Barbie left Area-14 that same day with all her Achilles' Heel operatives in tow. Given the awkward tension between them, Jianjia didn't dare bid Luo Shu farewell in person—she only sent a brief goodbye message through her tactical terminal.
Yet what Luo Shu regretted wasn't the loss of her company, but the missed opportunity to acquire abilities from the other Achilles' Heel members.
Not that it mattered much. This world had no shortage of anomalies—there would always be more SCPs to exploit. Besides, among the known abilities of Achilles' Heel, neither "White-Eyes" nor "Oil" held much appeal for him.
"Oil" was self-explanatory—his ability to phase through obstacles paled in comparison to "God's" spatial teleportation. As for "White-Eyes," while useful, his power was better suited for team operations. Once activated, his vision locked onto a target, leaving him blind to his immediate surroundings—a fatal flaw for a lone operative like Luo Shu.
Besides, Luo Shu's network of animated mechanical spies could already replicate much of "White-Eyes'" functionality.
And so, the matter of Achilles' Heel came to a temporary close.
But Luo Shu knew—he would cross paths with Barbie again.
That woman had made her stance clear before leaving: This wasn't over.
To say that Area-14's Security Director trusted Luo Shu more than Barbie wouldn't be entirely accurate. The real issue was attitude.
Barbie's arrogance had rubbed the Director the wrong way.
Though both held Level-4 clearance, their status differed. Area-14 and Area-13 were major sites—their Security Directors commanded multiple Mobile Task Forces and wielded substantial military power. As B-Class personnel, they were prioritized for evacuation during emergencies.
Barbie, despite her Level-4 credentials, was merely a C-Class field operative—the kind thrown at SCP breaches as frontline fodder.
The hierarchy was obvious.
So when she waltzed into his domain and started giving orders, did she really expect him to take it lying down?
If there's a problem, I'll investigate it myself. Who are you to tell me how to do my job?
After expelling Barbie and making his displeasure known, the Director cooled down and turned his attention back to Luo Shu.
Was Luo Shu really clean?
Thanks to the memetic effects of Self-Deception, the Director didn't believe Luo Shu had betrayed the Foundation. But suspicions kept piling up—first from O5 Command during the Greedy Sand and Puppet Spider incidents, now from Achilles' Heel.
If both the O5s and Barbie think he's trouble, maybe there's something to it.
This wasn't about trust anymore—it was about risk mitigation.
As Area-14's Security Director, he wasn't one to act on emotion. He ordered surveillance intensified—every move Luo Shu made would now be tracked via facial recognition.
The moment this directive was implemented, Luo Shu knew.
His "little brother"—the Area-14 mainframe—alerted him immediately.
Damn it, Barbie. I just wanted to lay low and fill out the Anomalous Item Compendium. Now I'm a marked man.
It was like Werewolf—once you became the center of attention, you were first on the chopping block.
See what happens when you poke the hornet's nest?
At least the mainframe was on his side. Any orders targeting him would reach him first, giving him time to prepare.
The benefits didn't stop there. Through the mainframe, Luo Shu could:
Monitor the Director's actions in real time.
Access every camera in Area-14 and Site-51.
Override electronic locks.
Even requisition vehicles—Humvees, tanks, helicopters—if he dared. (Not that he knew how to operate them.)
With time on his hands, Luo Shu spent nights browsing Area-14's archives and live feeds. Soon, he confirmed his earlier suspicion—deep within Area-14's containment sector lay SCP-682's unit.
A shame the Director had reneged on his word. Despite Achilles' Heel's departure, Luo Shu remained barred from the containment zone—cut off from the Hard-to-Destroy Reptile.
At 300 kilometers from Site-51, even with a Humvee, he couldn't make the round trip within Unobservability's time limit.
And so, Luo Shu found himself with nothing to do.
For days, he loitered around Site-51, careful not to draw suspicion. He could only hope the Director would eventually relax, just like last time.
But fate had other plans.
A week later, Lieutenant Peter brought "good news":
SCP-006—"The Stubborn Die"—had breached again!
The actual good news? The Die Room Luo Shu designed had worked flawlessly. Within minutes of the die teleporting away, the room retrieved it and re-contained it.
Post-breach analysis revealed the die had manifested in a mahjong parlor across the ocean—in a Chinese province. Four elderly aunties had unwittingly triggered its transfer mechanism mid-game.
They hadn't survived.
But thanks to the Die Room, the damage was contained—no additional casualties.
Luo Shu didn't know whether to laugh or cry.