New Star In Marvel

Inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, the once-buzzing atmosphere abruptly fell into stunned silence. All eyes were fixed on Maria Hill as she struggled to process the data projected in front of her.

"600 to 900 kilometers in size…" she mumbled, utterly confused.

Her thoughts mirrored those of everyone present.

"What the hell is this thing?"

Director Nick Fury's expression darkened, and a single question echoed in his mind: How the hell do we contain something that massive?

In the Land of Nothingness…

The Grandmaster, known in the cosmic realms as the Elder of the Universe, stared at the information dancing across the light curtain with a raised brow. "Anantashesha… I didn't expect the universes outside ours to harbor such colossal entities."

Despite his flamboyant personality and love for games, the Grandmaster was no fool. He wielded immense cosmic power, capable of manipulating time, space, and even crossing dimensional thresholds. Ever since he stumbled into the Foundation's world, he had been trying to locate a cosmic anchor point—any tether that connected their world to his own universe.

So far, he had failed.

Even with all his might and knowledge, this universe remained a mystery to him. He had to suppress his curiosity, observing events in secret.

Until now, everything he had seen—whether it was the infamous SCP-096 or the enigmatic SCP-1983—felt ordinary in his eyes. Only one anomaly ever piqued his true interest: SCP-343, also known as "God."

And now… this.

A living being stretching over 600 kilometers.

For reference, the planet Ego's diameter was just about 6,700,000 meters. Compared to that, this creature wasn't a planet, but a terrifying cosmic serpent.

His gaze flicked back to the screen. A silent question lingered in his thoughts:

"James… Could he be the key to finally discovering the anchor point between our universes?"

Meanwhile, in Asgard…

Loki stood frozen.

His sense of reality had already been shaken by the likes of SCP-239, a little girl capable of rewriting existence with mere thoughts. And now, this? Another being—this time a World Serpent?

He chuckled nervously to himself.

"At this rate, my title as the God of Mischief seems laughable."

Back on the screen, James turned another page of the SCP file, completely unaware that his actions were triggering cosmic ripples across other universes.

[SCP-3000 is generally a sedentary creature, moving its head only in response to certain stimuli or during feeding. Most of its body remains in the Ganges sector and is rarely observed in motion.]

[It is carnivorous. Though it rarely moves, SCP-3000 is capable of sudden bursts of speed to ambush prey. Despite its size, it is speculated that the entity may not require nutrients to sustain its biological functions.]

[During feeding, SCP-3000 excretes a dark, sticky substance from its skin, designated Y-909.]

The Marvel world audience, still reeling from the sheer size of the anomaly, collectively sighed in relief.

"At least it doesn't move often."

Still, it was terrifying to imagine. A creature of this magnitude, if stirred, could create tsunamis, level coastlines, and wipe out cities without lifting a finger.

But a new concern arose.

It's carnivorous? And what the hell is Y-909?

[SCP-3000 is classified as a Class VIII cognitohazard. Direct observation of the entity leads to severe psychological and cognitive impairments.]

[Symptoms include unexplained headaches, delirium, emotional instability, confusion, and memory loss.]

The moment that appeared on the screen, viewers gasped.

"It's not just huge… it's a cognitohazard?"

"It doesn't even need to move to be dangerous!"

"This thing messes with your mind just by existing?"

Chatrooms erupted in chaos.

And just as curiosity hit its peak—

The archive ended.

Some viewers were visibly disappointed they didn't get to see SCP-3000's full appearance. Others, however, felt relieved. Considering its cognitohazardous nature, viewing its true form might've been fatal.

In the scene, James sat with a calm but unreadable expression, fingers resting on the SCP file.

Across from him sat Dr. Kondraki, eyeing James carefully. "Did that file help?" he asked hesitantly.

James nodded and handed it back, preparing to leave.

But just as he stood, Kondraki stopped him.

"James…"

The older doctor's voice was laced with fatigue. His once-bright hair was now streaked with white, his frame a little more hunched. Time had not been kind.

"We stand on the same level now. I don't have the authority to lead you anymore," he said with a heavy sigh.

James remained quiet.

Kondraki took a deep breath. "But before you go, answer me this…"

The question silenced the live broadcast room.

"Are you really verifying what Clef said during the argument?"

Every viewer held their breath. Those words from Dr. Clef—a madman in many eyes—came rushing back:

"This world is doomed."

James blinked, his face unreadable. "Why do you say that?"

Kondraki stood. "Because since you became a senior researcher three years ago, you've applied to meet SCP-343 over 460 times."

He took a step forward.

"Two hundred and eighty-four of those times, your conversation logs don't match the surveillance recordings."

"What did you say to God?"

SCP-343.

That name alone caused a jolt through everyone watching.

At S.H.I.E.L.D., Fury immediately recalled the cryptic conversation between James and SCP-343. The warning echoed in his mind again:

"This world is irreversibly heading toward destruction."

And now, it seemed, James had been trying to validate that claim for years.

James didn't reply, his gaze unwavering.

Kondraki softened. "You don't know Clef like I do. But remember this…"

He leaned in slightly, eyes sharp.

"Don't believe a single word that lunatic says."

James gave a final nod.

"Goodbye, Doctor Kondraki."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving behind a sea of speculation.

Was James really chasing down the truth behind the Doomsday theory? Was Clef right all along?

Before the viewers could process it all, the scene shifted.

James, now walking briskly through the corridor, bumped into a breathless researcher.

"James! King Bo!"

The researcher wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "There's… an update… about the Pioneer project. The object—it's trying to communicate!"

The moment the word "Pioneer" was uttered, the livestream exploded with excitement.

"New SCP?"

"Don't tell me it's another world-ending threat…"

As James sprinted toward the observation deck, the feed changed again.

Project Name: Pioneer

Item #: SCP-1281

Object Class: Safe

The term Safe immediately brought relief to viewers.

Natasha Romanoff quirked a brow. "Didn't SCP-343 also have a Safe classification?"

Fury glanced at her. "Safe doesn't mean harmless. It just means it's easy to contain."

Natasha smirked. "Sure, but I'll take 'easy to contain' over 600 kilometers of cognitohazard any day."

[SCP-1281 is a biological entity discovered in the Kuiper Belt during a containment operation of SCP-I■.]

[It is approximately 12 meters long, with a circumference of 11 meters, shaped like a smooth column. The bulge near its upper end is believed to house analytical systems.]

The description left people puzzled.

Biological… with analytical systems?

[Disc-shaped structures cover parts of its surface, functioning as radiation receivers. Prism-like capsules adorn various regions, though many appear damaged.]

[SCP-1281's organic material seems grown on top of a mechanical frame, designed for long-term existence in space. It performs best in cold environments—around 50 Kelvin.]

A fusion of flesh and machine? A techno-organic hybrid?

At S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha muttered, "It's like a cyborg… in deep space."

But the next line made Fury's blood run cold.

[SCP-1281 once had the ability for interstellar travel. Damaged by an unknown event, it has remained dormant for approximately 1.3 billion years.]

"Interstellar travel?"

"1.3 billion years?"

That timeframe was staggering. Even the most advanced human tech couldn't come close to that.

[Initially dormant, the only activity was a dim glow. It began responding to radio signals, eventually cracking Foundation codes within an hour and replying with binary.]

[After Earth received its messages, the entity paused for days, its bulge heating up by 5 Kelvin—likely processing data.]

The livestream chat exploded again.

"It cracked codes that fast?"

"It's not just a relic—it's alive, and it learns."

As James approached the observation station, the screen finally showed visuals from the 120-09 space station.

Every viewer leaned forward.

What is SCP-1281? And more importantly… who built it?

------------------------------------------------------

Get membership in patreon to read more chapters

Extra chapters available in patreon

patreon.com/Dragonscribe31

-------------------------------------------------------