The audience was still whispering curiously about the mysterious "Olympus Agreement" when the live feed abruptly went dark.
Then—the screen flickered back to life, revealing James, Lois, and Zyn seated inside a sleek Foundation conference room.
For a moment, the viewers were silent. Then realization struck like thunder—James had brought both Lois and Zyn directly into the Olympus Protocol plan!
But this time, it wasn't James speaking. It was Lois.
She stood tall, cleared her throat, and adjusted her coat. James gave a small nod from the side, his expression calm and unreadable. Encouraged, Lois marched up to the podium, full of confidence.
"Ahem! Dear Supervisors, Site Directors, and Containment Research Leaders of Site-81, good day. On behalf of Dr. James, I'm here to present a report on the Mount Olympus Protocol."
The conference room was packed to the brim with senior officials. Every face was serious, every pen poised. Lois, trying to keep her voice steady, stole one more glance at James—his eyes were cold but steady.
Taking a deep breath, she continued.
"This memo is being issued because, as you've noticed, we rescinded this morning's order for additional containment procedures."
A few old doctors nodded cautiously. Lois caught it and smiled. "Normally, we'd never hold back when it comes to reality benders—especially Level 8 ones. Standard protocol says we use real firepower. But this time," she raised a brow, "we don't need to worry."
Some of the older researchers frowned, raising their hands to question her, but Lois cut them off smoothly.
"You might be thinking, 'Dr. Lois, why on earth would we remove all restraints from an entity capable of blowing the roof off Site-81? Isn't this reckless?'"
The raised hands froze midair.
Lois smirked. "The answer is yes—it's reckless. But we got lucky. Sometimes, reality bends in your favor. And this time, that curveball came gift-wrapped."
Her voice turned serious. "Here's the thing—SCP-3740 is the most gullible being we have ever encountered. He's not just harmless—he's downright stupid."
The room went dead silent. A few scientists exchanged disbelieving looks. Lois added with a straight face, "I'm not joking."
She went on, clearly enjoying the moment. "One of our agents rubbed static electricity on his hands, told 3740 his name was Bliss, the God of Pure Energy. Guess what? The entity still calls him Lord Bliss to this day."
The audience was frozen.
Lois chuckled. "Another agent—Jim Oppenheimer—told him he had slain a thousand men and betrayed his brothers. Now 3740 calls him Aldous Manhattan the Enemy Slayer. Ridiculous? Absolutely."
The conference room burst into quiet laughter, but the live broadcast audience lost control entirely.
"HAHAHA, no way!"
"James is a genius! A Level 8 reality bender fooled by bedtime stories?"
"'Enemy Slayer'? I can't breathe!"
"For once, SCPs aren't terrifying—they're just dumb!"
Meanwhile, at S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters, agents stared at the screen, speechless.
Natasha Romanoff finally broke into laughter. "God, I haven't laughed this hard in years."
Nick Fury sighed and rubbed his temples. "I thought we were dealing with a planet-ending threat… and this man solved it with roleplay?"
Even the Ancient One in Kamar-Taj looked stunned. A Level 8 reality bender could rewrite Earth's fate, yet James had tricked him into submission? "Utterly absurd," she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched in disbelief.
Across the cosmos, in the Observer Dimension, Uatu himself blinked in confusion. He had expected another K-Class end-of-the-world scenario. Instead—humans outsmarted a godlike being through pure bluffing.
"Unbelievable…"
Back in the conference room, Lois leaned forward with a proud grin.
"So, to summarize, we've been manipulating this entity long enough to convince him that it's critically important not to destroy the containment area. He's completely content just… throwing drunken parties with our staff."
The researchers could barely contain their laughter now. Lois concluded with mock solemnity, "SCP-3740 believes Dr. James to be a supernatural deity known as Dread Mathers of Hadrian Prison—because he knows how to turn lights on and off."
The entire room exploded.
"God help me, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"Does he even understand what he's capable of?"
"This is either brilliant or insane!"
Lois gave a playful bow and strutted off the stage, satisfied.
"How was that?" she asked with a smirk. "I held my ground perfectly before the Supervisors, didn't I?"
Zyn rolled her eyes. "If it weren't for James, you'd be mopping floors, not giving speeches."
Lois chuckled. "Respect your betters, Unbroken Angma."
Zyn raised her chin dramatically. "Hmph! I, Eleanora Thunder, Witch of the High Clouds, bow to no one."
Then both of them glanced at James, who had remained silent through the entire exchange. The two locked eyes, and in the next second—both burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Hahaha! This is the best mission we've ever had at the Foundation!"
"I swear, I'm crying—'Dread Mathers of Hadrian Prison'? Genius!"
Their laughter filled the room until a familiar sound of high heels clicking echoed from behind.
O5-10 had arrived.
Everyone instantly composed themselves. The elegant overseer looked at James with her usual composed yet curious expression.
"There's no issue with your Olympus Protocol," she said calmly. "But I need a progress report."
Lois straightened up again, producing a document from her coat.
"Here it is, ma'am. SCP-3740 currently believes he resides in a fortress called Anglo Castle, which he took over during his… 'heroic drunken blackout.'"
O5-10 frowned slightly. "Go on."
"There are three personnel classes permitted to interact with him," Lois continued.
"First—Servants. He believes they're Elamites or Chaldeans. They must not speak or look him in the eye. As long as they perform their roles, he ignores them completely."
O5-10 nodded thoughtfully.
"Second—Castle Guards. Site-81's security wears medieval armor. He considers them fellow warriors but knows they rank below him. Occasionally, he challenges them to duels—purely physical combat, no powers allowed."
O5-10 arched an eyebrow. Lois grinned. "He's obsessed with not damaging his 'castle.'"
"Third—Gods and Heroes." Lois smiled proudly. "Those are us—the researchers and containment officers. SCP-3740 believes we are fellow gods. He hosts constant feasts, drinks impossible amounts of alcohol, and tells tales of his imaginary conquests."
O5-10 looked between Lois and James, speechless. Her expression silently said: You've got to be kidding me.
The audience in the livestream went wild again.
"Oh my God! He's literally playing Dungeons & Dragons!"
"Servants, Guards, and Gods? He's running a whole fantasy roleplay!"
"Now I understand why they call him the 'Stupid God.'"
James finally spoke, his voice calm and steady.
"As you can see, SCP-3740 is… a foolish god."
O5-10's lips twitched. "So that's why you requested to rename the file to 'Stupid God.'"
Lois jumped in eagerly, raising her hand. "That was my idea!"
Zyn groaned and took a step back.
O5-10 sighed and composed herself. "Take me to him. I need to assess the containment chamber personally."
So the group—James, Lois, Zyn, and several guards—marched toward the containment site. As they walked, James briefed her quietly.
"To date, more than a dozen agents and researchers have convinced SCP-3740 of their divine status by performing small 'miracles.' He has given each of them titles of gods or heroes."
Then, on the live feed, the SCP-3740 project file appeared.
[Item #: SCP-3740]
[Object Class: Keter]
[Threat Level: EKHI]
[Risk Level: 2 (Caution Required)]
[Project Name: "Stupid God"]
The audience erupted with disbelief.
A Level 8 reality bender, tricked into thinking he lived in a medieval castle surrounded by gods and servants—contained not through power, but through imagination.
And at the center of it all stood James—'Dread Mathers of Hadrian Prison,' the god who could turn lights on and off.
For the first time, the world saw that wit could be mightier than godhood.
And the Foundation, once again, survived—
not by fear… but by laughter.
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