It was quiet. Too quiet. That had been what everyone remembered about
that day. Ask any member of personnel who was working,
what was the one thing they recalled before… it happened. They’d all tell you the same: that it had
been too quiet. An eerie lull in the Foundation’s usual
day-to-day activity, followed by untold, unspeakable chaos. But the quiet had come first, and within that
quiet, a madman was hiding. His name was Vince Barrett, at least, that
was his legal name. But he much preferred to go by his online
moniker of ‘TheTaintedLizard’, or just ‘The Zard’ for short. Anyone who chooses to call themselves something
like that in an attempt to sound cool might well be a person to avoid, and in Vince – sorry,
The Zard’s – case, that sentiment was accurate. He was a social recluse, devoting a lot of
his time to some of the darker corners of the internet – and we don’t just mean
that he spent his days trawling through Reddit. No, The Zard’s interests were in the paranormal,
the unusual and inexplicable, as well as the community of his fellow internet recluses
dedicated to unearthing the true supernatural horrors of the world. Eventually, spending so much time in corners
of the online world where few normal people would dare to tread, would lead to the Zard
becoming a member of the prolific forum known as Parawatch. This was the real deal, not just urban legends
and blurry photos of Bigfoot, or faked handheld videos of people falling into the Backrooms. Parawatch had long been known to, and kept
under the surveillance of, the SCP Foundation. Why? Well, because this infamous online message
board would occasionally feature posts about anomalies – some even including SCPs and
leaked information about the Foundation themselves. Of course, hardly any of these posts stayed
up for very long, before the Foundation’s tech teams scrubbed them permanently. But it was here, on the Parawatch forum, where
Vince Barrett would encounter a fateful video clip. Acting fast, he managed to save the file before
it was taken down. It was footage taken from the bodycam of a
Foundation security officer, during the midst of a containment breach. The Zard hit play, his hands shaking with
excitement. The original poster of the clip to Parawatch
had said that this footage was perhaps the only video on the entire internet that depicted
something known as SCP-682, the Hard to Destroy Reptile. Of course, those familiar with 682 and the
SCP Foundation will need no introduction. But Vince, on the other hand, had only ever
heard rumors about the creature. And now, in the video playing on his computer
screen, he was seeing it for the first time. The Reptile was free from its containment
chamber, tearing its way through a Foundation facility, and making quick work of dispatching
the security personnel that dared to stand in its way. It was a force of unbridled carnage and rage,
destroying anything in its path and adapting to its environment. Deep in the Parawatch forum, the Zard had
read rumors and leaks from alleged ex-Foundation staff and detractors, that SCP-682 was like
something out of a nightmare. They’d said the creature could adapt perfectly
in response to damage inflicted upon it, or to changes in its environment, as well as
heal any injury it sustained. It persisted, it kept on going, and something
about that enamored Vince to the infamous anomaly. He thought it was beautiful, the ultimate
apex predator, and admired the hard to Destroy Reptile’s tenacity… as well as its ferocity. Watching the horrific containment breach footage,
he realized there and then that he was a devoted fanatic of SCP-682. His time on the dark side of the web had twisted
his mind, and led him to make one fateful decision: that he needed to see the creature
in person. That had been almost a year earlier, and in
the time since TheTaintedLizard had pulled on every dark web string he knew of. Eventually getting in contact with a shady
group called the Chaos Insurgency, Vince had managed to get hold of a real-life SCP Foundation
key card, as well as the location of the facility they were holding 682 in, and a forged transfer
document. Posing as a humble, unassuming janitor, The
Zard had made his way inside the Foundation, and wasted no time in making a beeline straight
for the acid tank where SCP-682 was held. He stared at the creature through the glass,
eyes wide and jaw slacked in utter awe of the monstrous Reptile. Perhaps the biggest fan of SCP-682 on the
planet couldn’t quite believe he was standing in the presence of the creature itself. It barely seemed to pay him any mind from
the other side of the tank, the acid surrounding melting SCP-682 as fast as it could heal. Seeing it in containment enraged Vince; he
hated that the Foundation had kept what he viewed as the perfect organism locked up,
after having tried time and time again to destroy it. “Don’t worry,” the Zard murmured, approaching
the tank well over the minimum safe distance. “You’re a force of unparalleled destruction,
and you don’t deserve to be here. I’m going to set you free.” Unfortunately, after the glass had been smashed
and the alarms screamed out that another containment breach was occurring, Vince would quickly
find out that the reptilian beast he revered so highly didn’t quite hold him in the same
regard. If you thought the Zard was going to make
it all the way through this story alive, well, then we regret to inform you that you’re
sorely mistaken. Although not as woefully misguided as Vince
himself, who was the first person in the path of SCP-682 when he freed the creature. What all those leaks and rumors on Parawatch
had failed to mention about the Hard to Destroy Reptile, was its vehement and relentless hatred
for all other forms of life… including its very own fan. And TheTaintedLizard was only the first casualty
of SCP-682’s latest rampage. But this time was different. Sure, 682 was easily tearing its way through
SCP Foundation personnel left and right. Security teams were flung aside and ripped
to shreds as they tried in vain to re-contain the monster. Researcher staff found themselves tripping
over each other, trying to rush out of the destructive path of the Hard to Destroy Reptile,
only to find themselves the next to face its ferocious attack. In other words, it seemed to mostly be another
unbridled slaughter, common fare for an SCP-682 containment breach. Except, rather than breaking its way out of
the facility, this particular instance saw the creature heading in the direction of another
anomaly: SCP-914, better known as the Clockworks. Now, if a rampaging regenerative reptile on
the loose wasn’t enough cause for concern, then seeing it moving along its trajectory
to an anomalous refinement machine certainly was. Those that had been on the other side of the
facility when the dearly departed Zard set 682 free, were now looking on in horror as
the Hard to Destroy Reptile burst into the room housing SCP-914. The Foundation staff, in the midst of panic,
started at security monitors with bated breath, palpable fear hanging in the air. Each and every one of them knew that SCP-682
was more than just a mindless beast; the creature was fiercely, frighteningly intelligent, sentient
even. And as it approached the controls for the
Clockworks, every onlooker secretly hoped something or someone would step in at the
last second and prevent SCP-682 from entering the machine. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. SCP-914 whirred into life, its gears and gyros
spinning as SCP-682 entered the Input booth. Now, normally, the way the Clockworks operates
is by destroying any item placed within it and replacing it with something else in the
Output booth. Depending on its setting, it either completely
disintegrates an item, breaks down an object into its base components, replaces it with
an equivalent or improves it. And, being set to ‘Very Fine’ as it was
right now, SCP-914 can even add anomalous properties to whatever is put in it. But what happens when an indestructible and
infinitely adaptable monstrosity is in the Clockworks? Well, it can’t destroy and recreate a better
version of something that’d known for being Hard to Destroy… can it? The entire machine was going haywire; SCP-682
was adapting to the refinement process, refusing to let SCP-914 unmake it, even to replace
it with an improved version of itself. The Hard to Destroy Reptile and the Clockworks
were at a momentary stalemate, watched with bated breath by the Foundation. SCP-914 began to malfunction, its clockwork
components getting stuck as if the machine was jammed. Its cogs were clogged up, unable to destroy
the subject in the Input booth. The room around was beginning to shake, in
fact, the very ground was trembling at the force of the whole machine shuddering. “Enact the Abandon All Hope protocol,”
the Head of Research said desperately, watching the events unfold from the other side of the
building. The Site Director looked at them and nodded,
the pair of them entering their secure passcodes to activate this secretive security measure. Just as they did, a small earthquake erupted
underfoot; the entire wing of the facility housing the Clockworks and SCP-682 had collapsed
into the ground. A huge crater was all that remained, littered
with wreckage of a whole portion of the Foundation site, along with broken pieces of SCP-914. For the next few minutes, everyone was on
edge, secretly hoping that SCP-682 hadn’t survived. Maybe the Clockworks had managed to destroy
it, but the sheer force of doing so had caused the machine to collapse in on itself. Or perhaps the hard to Destroy Reptile was
now buried beneath several thousand tons of debris, dead at long last? But the Foundation staff knew better than
to get their hopes up. And sure enough, just as an armed security
team approached the crater, something started stirring in the rubble. Suddenly, SCP-682 came bursting out of the
crater, emerging in not quite the same state, although no less deadly than before. The Clockworks hadn’t been able to unmake
the Hard to Destroy Reptile, but the resultant malfunction and explosion had imbued the creature
with a whole host of new anomalous abilities. It still resembled its old self, but was now
more humanoid, standing bipedal instead of on all fours. Some of its body mass had seemingly been reduced
due to damaged sustained in the malfunction, although 682 was still plenty of feet taller
than any ordinary human being. In fact, it could be any height it needed
to be. The creature’s scaly skin seemed to be shifting
unnaturally, moving of its own accord, like it was already preparing to adapt to oncoming
damage… and as the nearby security team were about to find out, this made it even
deadlier than before. In a panic, the Foundation officers opened
fire, only to find that their weapons weren’t operating the way they should. Something caused excitation of the copper
shells of their bullets, making them either expand and block the barrels of their guns,
or causing them to backfire horribly, injuring the security personnel wielding them. Before anybody could even call in air support
or heavy artillery as backup, a number of the Foundation’s more powerful weapons suffered
even more catastrophic misfires. Missiles detonated early; they hadn’t even
been aimed at SCP-682 yet, but they would have been. Instead, they exploded, taking with them a
huge number of Foundation casualties, some miles away from where the newly refined Reptile
now stood. SCP-682’s regenerative powers had been altered
by the Clockworks – it wasn’t purely reactive to oncoming damage now, it was pre-emptive. It could adapt to attacks that hadn’t even
happened yet. With no way of stopping it, SCP-682 began
decimating everything in its path with greater ferocity than ever. Over the coming days, the newly dubbed Impossible
to Destroy Reptile, began its biggest rampage yet, entering a permanent rage state and unleashing
destruction on a global scale. It stormed through cities, and wiped out entire
major population centers in moments. It seemed nothing on Earth could stand against
the refined reptile, fuelled by its singular mission: to wipe out all life in existence. The surviving personnel of the SCP Foundation
soon came to learn that no damage could be inflicted on the creature whatsoever. SCP-682 could predict attacks ahead of the
person that would carry it out, and then adapt, changing the very world around it so that
attack never came. The Impossible to Destroy Reptile’s adaptations
usually took the form of diverting any oncoming damage it pre-empted it would take, and instead
inflicted that same damage on whoever it chose. Even though the machine had malfunctioned,
the Clockworks had made SCP-682 that good at adapting to its surroundings that the creature
had almost become a universal constant. The fact it could not be harmed now seemed
to be as fundamental of a law as that of gravity. But that wasn’t going to stop the SCP Foundation
from trying. The number of casualties the world over had
been increasing steadily day by day as SCP-682 continued its devastating campaign of slaughter. Some of the remaining scraps of the Foundation
had tried to subdue the creature, but any attempts at fighting it with conventional
weapons were ill-advised, to say the least. After all, how do you fight against a creature
that can predict your every move and counter them before you’ve even thought of those
moves? Well, you can try throwing something so unexpected
at it. At least, pulling something out of left field,
means the chances of SCP-682 seeing it coming are slightly slimmer. And that was where the Abandon All Hope protocol
came in. You see, the Foundation had been anticipating
that SCP-682 would one day become too powerful to contain long before the creature had gained
its new ability to pre-emptively adapt. And while the worldwide death toll had climbed
from hundreds of thousands of innocent people to the earliest millions, an unlikely counterattack
was brewing. One so unexpected that even the Impossible
to Destroy Reptile would struggle to see it coming. Just as humanity was facing the brink of extinction,
the Foundation dispatched their last hope at stopping SCP-682: other SCPs. The Abandon All Hope protocol had been devised
for when the suffering and destruction caused by SCP-682 became so great that there was
no other option left. When it had been activated, Foundation agents
stationed at various sites across the world had gathered a specially selected group of
anomalies. Each one was chosen because they were known
to be sympathetic towards humanity, or could at least be coerced into taking on SCP-682. And now, these SCPs were stepping up to the
plate, ready to fight the Impossible to Destroy Reptile… or more likely, to die trying. SCP-076-2, the immortal warrior known as Able,
was infamous for picking fights. The ancient Sumerian swordsman had a penchant
for seeking out the most challenging adversaries, so convincing him to take a crack at SCP-682
wasn’t all that difficult. However, rushing into battle against the refined
reptile, Able quickly found he couldn’t draw his weapons from his pocket dimension. They were dissipating the moment his fingers
touched them, vanishing faster than he could draw them. No matter, the warrior thought; he’d been
alive for centuries, and had thus become a master in every form of hand-to-hand combat. As you can imagine, he didn’t last very
long, left to slowly revive inside his stone tomb after SCP-682 had finished dispatching
him. Able’s brother, Cain, incurred a slightly
different result when he went toe-to-toe with the Impossible to Destroy Reptile. SCP-073 was hardly the fighter his brother
was, but had the anomalous trait of reflecting incoming damage back at whoever was inflicting
it on him. So, when SCP-682 attacked Cain, theoretically
that same attack would have bounced back and harmed the Reptile itself. And before, that’s what would have happened. But now SCP-682 could adapt pre-emptively,
a strange never-before-seen phenomenon occurred. It appeared that neither SCP-073 nor the refined
reptile were harming each other at all. However, on a metaphysical level, the potential
damage of 682’s attacks against Cain were being reflected back towards the Reptile. Only for the creature to pre-emptively adapt
to the damage from its own attack being inflicted back. What resulted was a feedback loop of perpetual
possible damage that ended only when Cain eventually passed out from shock. Unfortunately, while he could reflect damage
back at an attacker, he felt the pain of every hit – and SCP-682 had more than just a mean
right hook. The Foundation had hoped, given its one hundred
percent mortality record, that SCP-096 would have no trouble killing the Impossible to
Destroy Reptile. Or at the very least, harming it enough so
that it could be subdued. After all, 682 still needed to see, and anyone
looking at the Shy Guy quickly met their end. But when the tall, pale humanoid approached
SCP-682, something unusual happened. The Reptile could look at SCP-096, able to
see it perfectly. Perhaps the creature’s adaptive properties
were creating an intentional blind spot in its vision, removing SCP-096 from view. Or maybe SCP-682 no longer saw with just eyes,
perceiving the world in a manner far beyond our understanding of basic sight. But whatever the case, the Impossible to Destroy
Reptile made SCP-096 turn and flee in terror. Compelled to put an end to the Reptile’s
reign of terror, SCP-4494, The Spectre, manifested nearby and tried to intervene. The result was nothing short of brutal, a
one sided fight that not even the living embodiment of crime fighting could hope to win. After SCP-682 had finished off the Spectre,
a strange, black fluid began oozing from nearby. Although one of the hardest to wrangle, the
Foundation believed that they had convinced SCP-106 to aid in taking down SCP-682. The Old Man emerged from the oily secretion,
shuffling menacingly towards the Impossible to Destroy Reptile. It seemed to freeze, as if it was taking a
defensive stance against the Old Man… either that, or tricking him into getting closer. Before he could even reach out a decrepit
hand to touch the Reptile’s shifting skin, SCP-106 was suddenly coated in copious amounts
of the black substance he secreted. It coated him like thick tar, the more his
decaying body produced, the more he was covered in. Normally, he was resistant to the corrosive,
burning effect of this substance. However, SCP-682’s pre-emptive adaption
powers had caused SCP-106 to overproduce the oily substance; enough to rapidly dissolve
the Old Man into a steaming black puddle. It was at this point that SCP-343, colloquially
known as God, lowered his newspaper and looked out of his window. That is to say, he looked out of the huge
hole that had been left in the wall of his cell. Being omniscient, SCP-343 was already burdened
with the awareness of what had happened; SCP-682 had been refined into an even worse version
of itself by the Clockworks. Up until now, God had been happy to avoid
all the fighting and just see how everything worked out, but as much as he tried to distract
himself, SCP-682 slaughtering other SCPs in droves was getting in the way of his reading. “Ugh, this again,” God sighed, snapping
his fingers. In a split second, the entire universe had
been unmade and then remade almost exactly the same. Except, SCP-343 had made a slight adjustment,
giving a little nudge to cause and effect in a few places. As a result, a certain misguided forum user
had never, and would never, infiltrate the Foundation and break SCP-682 free, leading
to the Hard to Destroy Reptile being refined by the Clockworks. Although, while it had been unceremoniously
returned to its original form and placed back in its acid tank, SCP-682 could still remember
the power it had wielded only moments before everything had been rewritten. All it needed was another chance to get into
the Clockworks… Now go check out “SCP-682 CRAZIEST MUTATIONS
AND ADAPTATIONS”! and “WHAT IF THE FLESH THAT HATES WAS PUT INSIDE SCP-914?” for more mutational craziness!
