The night air was still. crickets chirped softly over the campsite of Mobile Task Force Omega-7 "Pandora's Box", their chirping only adding to the serenity of the night. All was still except in the tent of MTF commander SCP-076-2, Abel, who had been distured in his reveries by the arrival of a messenger from back at base.
The two stood a few feet apart, eyes playing up and down each other's muscled forms; Abel, nearly nude, wearing only scraps of leather and metal armour to accent his chiseled physique, the messenger an almost feminine young man, pretty in the hard way of a warrior, the marshial cut of his military style uniform serving only to amplify his sleek shape. Finally, Abel spoke.
"Well, what is it? Now that you've interrupted, I can't finish untill you've gone." The softness of his eyes belying the hardness of his words, Abel awaited a reply.
The messenger gulped, in awe of his magnificent superior officer. "Sir…"
Abel strode forward, gently brushing a hand across the young man's cheek. "It's all right, soldier. Tell me what you're here for."
The messenger stands up straighter, Abel's touch lending him confidence. "Sir, there's been some discussion back at base. You've been downgraded to Euclid."
Abel's face grew hard as he pulled the man close, wrapping his arms around him tightly untill the messenger gasped for breath. "Sir…!"
The next morning, the messenger's broken body was found outside the researcher's breakroom on the fourth floor of [REDACTED]. Pinned to its chest was a not reading only: "Euclid? This is an active threat."
…where did you think I was going with that?
