Julius had no idea when the exit would be opened or when the government would even arrive.

All he knew was that in two hours, the only thing separating the monsters from the researchers would be empty air.

Did he want to see them die?

Truthfully, Julius did not care what happened to the researchers here. "You reap what you sow." The phrase fit perfectly. They had touched research they were never meant to touch, and now they were paying the price for it.

Yet the question remained.

What was different in this run?

In the future he remembered, Zima-12 had burned down nine years from now. That meant it had survived this catastrophe, at least for the time being.

So did that mean Zima-12 would endure this incident as well?

Or was this something unique to this life alone?

"...."

Julius rushed ahead of Zima-12's bloody halls.

"Professor Mikhailovna…"

Standing in his path was a professor who used to hand him a cup of coffee every morning.

His guts hung from his torn abdomen, yet he was still moving. His eyes were bloodshot. His forehead had split open, and along the edges, teeth slowly elongated out of flesh and bone.

"SCP-342…"

One of the most taboo Glasshearts they had ever experimented on.

SCP-342 had the ability to affect and reshape flesh, twisting it into grotesque forms while linking its victims into a single hive mind.

This professor was already dead. There was no doubt about it. He had no pupils left in his eyes, and yet his body continued to advance.

What made these creatures, these anomalies, truly dangerous was that modern technology could not deal with them.

Much like Glasshearts, one had to return to an older era, to the age of chivalry.

A single piece of metal slipped from Julius's coat. It elongated in his grip, reshaping itself into a blunt steel weapon.

Swoosh——!

Julius struck.

The professor's body burst apart on impact. Flesh explode, blood spraying outward before pooling and spreading across the floor.

The trails stretched along the ground like bloody veins, as if trying to lead back to a central body.

If this Glassheart managed to infect the remaining researchers, its numbers would multiply even further, until the entire facility became a single organism.

Indeed, SCP-342 would become a national calamity if it were allowed to develop further and escape Zima-12.

From what Julius remembered from the future, SCP-342 was most likely the entity later known as the Crimson Nest, a grotesque anomaly that surfaced somewhere in China.

It had grown into such an overwhelming threat that the Chinese government lost more than 500,000 soldiers simply trying to subjugate it.

It had to be killed here.

While it was still incomplete. While it was still immature. While it had only breached its containment, not the entirety of Zima-12 itself.

…While he could still kill it legally without the need to initiate containment procedures. No need to tiptoe around regulations. No need to worry about offending researchers who had spent months developing SCP-342 as if it were something precious.

"Tsk."

There it was, gruesomely devouring what remained of a researcher. Julius could no longer tell who it was.

Around the creature were several professors, their bodies mutilated beyond recognition, yet still standing, watching.

The moment Julius stepped forward, every infected researcher turned toward him at once.

"...."

Like corpses that refused to stay dead, gazes locked onto him in unison.

Julius moved at once.

Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!

The reason China had struggled to eliminate SCP-342, the Crimson Nest, was simple.

Its main body was notoriously difficult to locate, nearly impossible to pin down after spreading far and wide across East Asia. But Zima-12's restricted access zone was small.

And here, the core was right in front of him.

SCP-342 wasn't anything powerful.

Just slippery.

Squelch——!

Julius's blade came down.

The creature split apart. In the same instant, the professors surrounding him lost all cohesion. Their bodies burst apart in violent sprays that splattered across the floor and stained Julius's white coat in a deep, ugly red.

The hive was gone.

After cutting down escaped anomalies one after another, killing them while they were still in their infancy phase, Julius finally reached the testing facility.

"...."

"Professor Mikhailov?"

He stopped.

Arriving from the opposite end of the room was Professor Abramov.

Or rather, Joachim Pascal Beißwenger.

"Your timing couldn't be any more perfect," Joachim said. "Quickly, help me into the suit, Mikhailov!"

His gaze briefly fell to the blunt weapon in Julius's hand, but he paid it no further attention as he rushed toward the console.

Julius followed, stopping just behind him.

"You know how to pilot it, Professor?"

"Of course," Joachim replied. "It's German tech. More specifically, Dream Tech. Most of it follows similar principles."

"I didn't know you were proficient with German technology."

"Ah."

Joachim paused, realizing he had made a slip of the tongue.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he said. "German tech sits at the top of the world. Any researcher aiming higher has to acknowledge that fact, even if it bruises their pride."

"Is that so?" Julius raised a brow. "I understand some manuals have been translated into Russian or English. But the newer ones are still written only in German."

Joachim's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say, Mikhailov?"

"Just wondering if you knew German as well, Professor."

"I won't deny it," Joachim replied. "I know the language. I translated quite a few manuals myself. That's how I secured my position in the first place."

That much was true.

If one looked into Abramov's public achievements, translations of German technical manuals into Russian were among them.

In truth, if the USSR wished to encroach upon German technology, they needed someone fluent enough to break it down it word by word.

"Now, enough talking," Joachim said. "Help me activate the suit."

"What do you need it for?"

"To secure my safety," Joachim replied. "Don't worry. There's a compartment inside large enough to fit you as well. Your safety will be guaranteed."

"Was it worth it?"

"What was?"

Click——

With a single sound, steam burst from the suit standing at the center of the testing facility. Pistons hissed as pressure equalized.

The German mech suit, the Knightframe, began to glow blue.

"Your research," Julius continued. "With how it's ending up, was it worth it?"

Joachim turned toward him, his brows furrowing.

"Hey. Are you questioning me now? You participated in the research as well, so don't start playing the morality police on me—wait."

Julius met his gaze from the corner of his eye.

Joachim's throat tightened. He swallowed hard as realization dawned.

"You… German…"

Only then did it click.

Julius had been speaking in German for a while now. No, the past several minutes had passed entirely in German, without either of them switching tongues.

Joachim took a step back.

Slash——!

With no hesitation, Julius's blade flashed forward. Joachim barely managed to evade, but not enough.

"Akh…!"

His arm was severed mid-motion, blood spraying as it hit the floor.

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