MacDonald was a liability.
Luo Shu couldn't watch him 24/7, nor could he stop the "God" from abducting him again.
Solution: Make MacDonald disappear.
But first—one last talk.
Luo Shu activated his throat mic: "Return to your office. I'm waiting."
The door creaked open.
MacDonald had never left, lurking outside for safety.
He peered around, sweating. "Luo Shu? Say something! This is creepy!"
A voice behind him: "What's your plan now?"
MacDonald jumped, wrenching his neck. "Stop vanishing! It's terrifying!"
"No. Officially, I was never here. We met once—at San Quentin."
"Right! I'm trained for this!"
Trained?
Like those New World soldiers who surrendered at the first sign of trouble?
Luo Shu pressed: "The 'God' suspects you. What next?"
MacDonald stammered: "I'd never talk! Never!"
"Under torture? Facing death?"
Silence.
Then—a whimper: "Tell me what to do!"
Luo Shu sighed. "You need to vanish. Permanently."
MacDonald collapsed, scrambling for invisible legs to cling to. "No! I'm loyal! Spare me!"
A kick sent him yelping.
"Not you. Your identity."
MacDonald blinked. "Huh?"
"No more 'MacDonald.' Just SCP-126."
Relief flooded the man's face. "Yes! Genius!"
Luo Shu rolled his eyes. "But 'MacDonald' can't just vanish. Arrange a plausible death."
MacDonald grabbed his phone, dialing a Chaos Insurgency blackline.
Luo Shu eavesdropped as a distorted voice answered:
"Understood. MacDonald dies tonight."
No hesitation.
Luo Shu wasn't surprised.
Chaos had always kept a body double—some poor soul playing "MacDonald" at home while IR1901 lurked in Site-19 as SCP-126.
Now, the double would die for the cause.
One life vs. millions in an XK scenario.
A fair trade?
Perhaps.
But losing MacDonald meant losing easy access to SCP-126's powers.
No more borrowing perception filter on demand.
"IR1901," Luo Shu said finally, "No more contact after this. Stay hidden."