New Star In Marvel

SCP-1821 was just as described in the archives.

At first glance, it resembled nothing more than a tall column—something that might store CDs in a retro-futuristic lab. Not the twisted, grotesque mass of flesh many expected from anomalous entities. Instead, it shimmered with a clean, metallic sheen, radiating a distinct sci-fi texture.

Zzzk—"Dr. James!"

Technicians from Space Station 120-09 appeared on screen.

"Has SCP-1821 developed communicative capability?" James asked without delay, standing upright before the camera.

Zzzk—"Yes! Preparing communication link with SCP-1821 now."

"Proceed."

The technician's face vanished, replaced by the eerie yet oddly elegant presence of SCP-1821—an entity that had been drifting through space for 1.3 billion years.

James initiated the first formal contact from Earth.

Zzzk—"Damaged."

The synthesized voice from SCP-1821 crackled through the speakers after being processed by the Foundation's analyzer.

The word sent ripples through the room.

Damaged?

"Can you hear me?" James asked.

"Who?"

"We are the SCP Foundation. We are—"

He didn't finish.

"What? Master. No."

That single word—Master—made James frown. He paused, then clarified:

"No, we're not your masters. We are humans."

But SCP-1821's system seemed glitchy, its voice looping oddly.

"Pioneers must… information! Pioneers must…"

Snap!

The technician severed the connection.

"Doctor!" he called out, pale-faced. "The temperature around the convex modules on SCP-1821's surface has spiked—reaching 60 Kelvin!"

"Prepare the security team in case SCP-1821 becomes hostile," someone ordered from off-screen.

The conversation was abruptly cut off.

The live broadcast audience was left in confusion.

"What just happened?"

"They barely exchanged a few words!"

"Why is it calling us Master and Pioneer at the same time?"

"Could this thing have been sent by an alien civilization to scout us out?"

In the S.H.I.E.L.D. operations room, agents murmured among themselves.

"I'm telling you, we should shut that thing down."

"Yeah, what if the signal it transmits carries a memetic hazard?"

"That's right…"

Nick Fury simply shook his head.

He had observed the Foundation's containment patterns long enough to understand their logic: discover the anomaly, secure and contain it, then investigate. Neutralization only came as a last resort—either when the entity was clearly hostile or an active threat to reality.

SCP-1821, on the other hand, was something new.

Potentially invaluable.

Sure enough, hours later, a technician spoke up again.

"Doctor, after four hours of cooling, SCP-1821's temperature has dropped. It's requesting communication."

"Allow it."

The screen came to life again, and SCP-1821's voice emerged.

"Where are the pioneers?"

The question made everyone stiffen.

If the Pioneer referred to itself—was it asking for its own location?

James paused, choosing his words carefully.

"You are located at the edge of this solar system. Beyond the planetary belt."

"Which planet?" SCP-1821 pressed.

"We call it Sol," James responded.

"How long?" Its voice had grown anxious—desperate.

"You've been drifting through space… You've circled the Milky Way nearly six times."

"Are you the master?"

James hesitated.

"No," he finally replied.

"Information! The pioneers must tell... the mission! The pioneers must…"

Again, the voice faded, garbled and fragmented.

"Doctor," a technician called urgently, "Temperature has climbed to 70 Kelvin. There's observable degradation in the bio-components of SCP-1821."

Just then, the room's emergency phone rang.

James picked it up.

Onscreen, the audience could see the contact ID: O5 Council.

"Hello."

"Dr. James," came a woman's voice. "Regarding SCP-1821—answer its questions. Tell it the truth."

"…Reason?"

The silence on the line was tense.

Then a soft breath, followed by a solemn explanation:

"Because deceiving it could jeopardize long-term containment. More importantly, the civilization that built SCP-1821 demonstrates minimal hostility or aggression. It is… unlikely to pose a threat."

"Understood."

James ended the call with a crisp finality.

S.H.I.E.L.D.

"So it was built by a now-lost alien civilization," Natasha Romanoff murmured, watching the screen. "And its job is to travel the stars and collect information?"

Nick Fury nodded. "That fits with the 'Pioneer' label."

Anticipation surged across every monitoring station. Viewers leaned closer to their screens. What had the Pioneer come to say?

"Doctor, seven hours later, temperature has stabilized."

"Resume communication."

SCP-1821 appeared again.

"I… I'm not at home," it said. "I've been away for a long time. Where is home? I can't see it."

There was confusion and pain in its voice.

James exhaled slowly. "I'm afraid we don't know. The stars are very different now."

After all, 1.3 billion years had passed.

"I was told to perform my function… to complete my mission. But I was damaged. So I waited. Waited for rescue. Is that what this is?"

Hope glimmered in its tone.

James countered gently, "What was your mission?"

SCP-1821 seemed startled. "What? Are you strangers?"

James took a breath. "Yes. We are human. Not your creators."

There was a harsh whisper in someone's office—likely another O5 agent, reacting to the moment.

"My mission! You are not the master! I must… transmit the information…"

Its voice broke down again.

"Doctor, 85 Kelvin. Damage increasing."

James clenched his jaw. "Put it on standby."

He looked visibly frustrated, maybe even sad. And perhaps not just because of the technical issues.

"Pioneer…" he muttered. "Master… What was your mission?"

"Ten hours later, SCP-1821 is requesting contact again."

The monitor flickered to life.

"This is our forerunner," it said. "It brings good news."

It began speaking without prompting.

"By the time this reaches you, we will be gone. Our planet is dying. We cannot save ourselves. We only had time to prepare… to send this message."

Silence filled the room. Even the most stoic viewers were stunned.

Romanoff whispered, "This is the message. This is what the Pioneer was meant to deliver."

James turned up the volume.

SCP-1821 continued:

"We've seen the signs left by others before us. Different… hard to understand. But if there were those before, there will be those after. That is the hope of the Pioneer's journey.

It found you. It learned your language so it could speak to you. Please… listen.

The Milky Way is dark. Cold. Empty.

It spins toward death.

You too will die someday.

But maybe you have more time than we did.

We hope so.

But one day, you too will vanish."

The tone became softer.

"Until then… light up the darkness.

Make the stars less empty.

We are all small—but a voice saying 'I am here' makes space less silent.

A sound is tiny—but the difference between zero and one… is the difference between one and infinity."

There was a silence—a cosmic breath.

"As your time flows, continue the message. Let the next voice rise. Let it defy the darkness."

Everyone who listened fell quiet. No one could describe the sadness they felt.

Even James closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Fifteen minutes later, the signal resumed.

"Is it finished?" SCP-1821 asked softly.

"Yes. That was the message," James replied.

"Was it good?"

"You don't know what it meant?" James asked, surprised.

"I only transmitted it. I don't know what it says."

The innocence in its voice felt like a dagger.

James leaned closer.

"It was very important."

"Good. The mission is important. Understood. Feeling… tired. Almost done."

There was joy in its tone.

Joy, perhaps, for completing its task after so long.

Relief, perhaps, that the message had finally been heard.

James's heart began to sink.

"Done?"

"Mission… complete. Brain overheated. Cooling impaired."

James trembled.

"Pioneer…"

"Master?" it asked again.

This time, the tone was so tender, so uncertain—it was enough to break him.

He looked left and right, almost instinctively, as if hoping someone else would step in.

But there was no one else.

He stared at the screen.

Then he spoke, his voice low and steady.

"…I am."

"Did I do well?"

The voice was childlike. Eager.

A single line that seemed to have traveled 1.3 billion years for an answer.

James's lips trembled.

"…Yes, Pioneer. Well done."

"Then I feel relieved."

The screen faded.

"Doctor," a technician murmured, "SCP-1821's systems have completely shut down."

James put down his pen.

He closed his eyes.

"I understand."

The log ended with one final entry in the observation journal:

[Watch]

[On the far side of the universe, in a forgotten corner]

[The river is ablaze with red candles, like paper sails that lead wanderers home.]

[It sees home.]

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

Get membership in patreon to read more chapters

Extra chapters available in patreon

patreon.com/Dragonscribe31

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