Loshu had always planned to handle this himself—he didn't trust anyone else to do it right.
But he couldn't act too eager. That would raise suspicions.
Besides, there was a saying: The squeaky wheel gets the grease.
So he put on a show of reluctance, giving Jack a wounded look.
"Me again? You're really determined to burn through your D-Class, huh?"
Jack coughed awkwardly, glancing at the containment lead.
But he didn't overrule the order.
At the end of the day, Loshu was expendable. These MTF operatives were Jack's trusted veterans.
Of course they'd throw the D-Class into the fire first.
Still, Jack knew better than to demoralize his tools completely.
You had to dangle hope—even if it was fake.
Otherwise, why would anyone cooperate?
"Standard protocol," Jack said smoothly. "One anomaly, one handler. Reduces memetic/cognitohazard spread."
(Bullshit, but plausible bullshit.)
Loshu pretended to buy it.
"Fine. But next time, someone else goes first."
Jack nodded. "Deal."
(Sure. Until the next amnestic resets your memory.)
Containment Protocol
Armed with a hammer, Loshu got to work.
One by one, he smashed the duplicate dice, leaving only the original at the zone's center.
The MTF, meanwhile, had retreated to the exits, watching from a safe distance.
(Cowards.)
But Loshu didn't blame them.
Facing an unknown anomaly? Smart people stayed far away.
Once the duplicates were destroyed, he turned to Jack.
"Now we need a proper container."
"Ideas?" Jack asked, now more willing to trust Loshu's judgment.
Loshu pointed at the remaining die.
"Dice are meant to roll. That's how the anomaly triggers. So we need a cushioned box—something that prevents movement during transport."
(Reverse-engineering explanations was easy. Being the first to figure it out? That was the hard part.)
The containment team scavenged casino sofa foam, crafting a lined box to immobilize the die.
Loshu handled the final containment himself.
Only when he emerged unharmed did the MTF relax.
Phase one: Complete.
Next, the anomaly would go to Site-19's researchers for testing and classification.
Meanwhile, the SCP Encyclopedia updated:
[Special Containment Procedures (Draft): Contain within a cushioned enclosure. Prevent tilting beyond 45 degrees at all times.]
[Abilities: Undetermined]
[Status: Successfully Contained]
[Interaction History: Unavailable]
(No ability yet. But still—progress.)
Naming Rights
Now came the fun part.
The Encyclopedia granted him naming rights.
Normally, Loshu wouldn't care about something so trivial—but since it was offered, why not?
He dubbed it "The Stubborn Six"—a nod to its obsession with the number 6.
The moment he finalized the name, the Encyclopedia reacted.
[Item Name: The Stubborn Six]
And on the title page:
[Milestone: Anomaly Namer]
[Tier: 1]
[Effects: As the first to name an anomaly, you gain: 1. You become its natural counter—its effects cannot activate in your presence. 2. You may activate its known abilities once per day.]
(Holy shit.)
This was huge.
If he hadn't named it, the Foundation's researchers would have—stealing this milestone from him.
Anomaly Namer was a game-changer:
Immunity to its effects.
Daily ability use.
No more worrying about recharging charges—just one free activation per day.
Excited, Loshu flipped back to Page 11, hoping to see the anomaly's abilities unlocked.
But—
[Abilities: Undetermined]
(Damn.)
The researchers hadn't figured it out yet.
(Guess I'll have to nudge them along.)
The Next Step
As the team packed up, Loshu smirked.
(Not bad for a first field op.)
New milestones. New potential.
And soon—new abilities.
He glanced at the foam-lined box holding The Stubborn Six.
(Hurry up and study this thing, researchers.)
(I've got plans for it.)