New Star In Marvel

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"What the hell were you thinking? She could've done anything, James! We wanted to keep her out of the experiment—and you just brought her straight into it! I swear, if—"

The man stopped mid-sentence. His rage faltered as he looked at James, his face filled with a blend of disbelief and frustration. After the chaos caused by the Four Doctors of the Apocalypse, now they had another wild card in the Foundation.

James met his glare calmly. His voice was quiet, almost soothing, as if trying to convey something deeply important rather than justify himself.

"I understand your concern," James began. "But I don't believe the situation is as disastrous as you think."

He held the man's gaze, his tone composed.

"Yes, I triggered a containment breach involving SCP-239. But it was done with intent. It wasn't to exploit her power—it was to stabilize her, to reinforce her current containment beliefs rather than challenge them."

James paused, letting his words sink in before continuing.

"SCP-239 still doesn't fully grasp the nature of her abilities. She only understands them through stories and metaphors. I simply refined the narrative. The idea of 'forbidden spellbooks' and 'necromancers' was already in place—I just gave it structure."

The man, a high-ranking supervisor from the Q5 Council, stared at him blankly for a second, completely thrown off. "…What exactly are you talking about?"

Even the viewers in the live stream were left speechless.

But some of them—those who were particularly observant—began to recall the earlier scene when SCP-239 had mimicked James, attempting to cast spells in the same whimsical way he did. Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place.

He wasn't just guiding SCP-239… James had turned the entire breach into a role-playing game.

And from the looks of it, the little girl had been absolutely delighted to play along.

Back on screen, James adopted a thoughtful expression, eyes distant as though remembering an old tale.

"Dr. Clef was corrupted by the Ultimate Darkness," James said solemnly. "A vast, invisible evil that seeped into our world."

The supervisor visibly cringed, clearly thinking James was mocking him. It sounded like a child's bedtime story. But James pressed on, ignoring the man's reaction.

"Darkness took control of Clef's mind, and only a handful of witches and wizards still retain their magic. I, as a High Necromancer of the Overcouncil, was sent to intervene, alongside Swordsman Kondraki, to purge the evil from Clef."

James raised a finger dramatically.

"Together with SCP-239, we summoned the Emergency Spellbook. A two-person incantation tome that can only be activated in times of dire magical imbalance—like now."

After a pause, the entire live chat exploded.

"WHAT DID I JUST READ?!"

"Bro really LARPED his way out of an SCP apocalypse!"

"Swordsman Kondraki? Clef corrupted by darkness?? I'm crying!!"

"James deadass played DnD with a nuclear bomb."

Even Natasha Romanoff in S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters had a delayed reaction.

"…Wait a minute," she muttered. "That explains why the whole thing felt so theatrical."

Nick Fury squinted at the screen, slowly nodding. "Now it makes sense… Still insane, but at least it makes sense."

Meanwhile, in Kamar-Taj, a few apprentices had already begun fighting over which role they wanted in the next "role-play exercise."

"I call Sorcerer Supreme!"

"You were Sorcerer Supreme last time! It's my turn!"

Watching them argue, the Ancient One rubbed her temple in silent frustration. "Children…" she murmured.

To her, this was no game. When magic and reality blurred, lines got crossed. Roles became identities. If the one playing the villain—Dr. Clef—wasn't pretending, but truly believing himself to be the enemy…?

She shook the thought away, her eyes narrowing at James's image on the screen.

Clever man.

Back at the Foundation, the supervisor was still trying to process what he'd heard. "And she believed all of this?"

James shrugged. "Sir, with all due respect—she's nine years old. Her only real question was whether she could also learn fencing."

The man didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

"…You're insane. This is dangerous beyond belief. What did you even let her use? Was it one of the—" He searched for the right word, his voice uneasy. "—'forbidden spells'?"

"We started with something simple," James replied casually. "The most basic spell everyone learns first."

"…What was it? Magic Missile?"

James's lips curled slightly. "Exactly."

The supervisor pointed at the scorched hallway shown on screen, the aftermath of a magical explosion that nearly took out half the corridor.

"THAT was a magic missile?!"

"She's just… extremely talented," James said innocently.

The live broadcast burst into laughter again.

At last, the supervisor sighed and straightened his coat. "Fine. You've got a psychological evaluation next. Don't miss it."

The scene transitioned again. This time, James sat across from a bald psychiatrist, who smiled politely as he queued up surveillance footage.

"You injected her with a sedative?" the doctor asked, pausing the video.

James nodded calmly.

"I practiced on myself several times before. Developed a talent for it."

The doctor blinked. "That's not what I meant."

James's gaze didn't waver. "I didn't enjoy it. But I had no better option. The risk was too great. She was becoming unstable."

"You're defending yourself."

"I'm stating facts."

The doctor watched him a moment longer. "What did you whisper to her when you picked her up?"

James looked at the paused screen. For the first time, something like emotion flickered in his expression. His voice dropped a little.

"…I told her, 'Good night. Have a sweet dream.'"

The doctor said nothing for a while. Then he reached into a folder and handed James a document.

"This was found later. Her diary."

James raised an eyebrow and accepted it.

"You never read it before?"

"No."

The doctor was surprised. "Then why were you so sure she'd become a threat?"

James didn't answer. He skimmed through the page. A few lines jumped out immediately.

[From the diary of SCP-239, discovered after Incident 239-B]

Date: [Three days before the incident]

Dear Diary,

I did something bad today. I saw a dead bird and some baby birds crying for their mom, so I used a life spell to bring her back.

But Supreme Necromancer Clef told me if I broke the rules again, he'd banish me to the underworld for a hundred years. I'm scared of him. I hope he won't find out. I don't want to die :(

James blinked. "…What?"

Everyone in the live broadcast was dead silent.

Nick Fury looked like someone had just slapped him. The implications settled over the room like a heavy fog.

James slowly turned to the psychiatrist, voice low. "So… Clef…"

The psychiatrist sighed. "She misunderstood him. She thought he was going to punish her. She created the whole story. She imagined he had been taken over by evil and came here to hurt her."

James closed his eyes, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"That's why this all happened…"

Viewers everywhere groaned in disbelief. All this chaos, all the deaths, all the near-apocalyptic moments…

Because of a dead bird and a little girl's overactive imagination.

Even Fury had to admit—this might've been the most ridiculous, frustrating, and heartbreaking thing he'd seen in a long time.

"Clef," he muttered, "is the most unlucky bastard in this whole situation."

Back in the footage, James sat in stunned silence. The psychiatrist quietly slid another document across the table.

"We found this in Dr. Clef's deleted files—dated two days before the incident."

James opened the file.

TO: All SCP Personnel

FROM: Dr. A. Clef, Site-19

SUBJECT: Stop me

Secure SCP-239 immediately. Put Site-17 on high alert. You must stop me, or someone will die.

Yesterday I had a sudden urge to kill SCP-239. It started small, but it's getting stronger. I think I've been compromised.

Damn. I should've known she'd misinterpret what I said. The child is smart—but still just a child. I was arrogant. This is my fault.

James closed the file, his lips drawn in a thin line.

The viewers read along, each line more chilling than the last. Clef had known something was wrong. He'd sensed the influence SCP-239 was unknowingly exerting on him. He hadn't gone rogue—he'd been a victim too.

And that changed everything.

Because in the end, this wasn't a battle of magic.

It was a child's nightmare turned real.

And the cost of that dream… was almost everyone's life.