SCP-9261

The cold steel cuffs around your wrists scratch irritatingly against your skin as you are led through one of the stark white hallways of Site ██. You're D-7298 now, another cog in the SCP Foundation's ever-turning wheel. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead flicker intermittently as you approach a nondescript door, behind which lies your new reality. As guards usher you inside, one of them points to an earpiece on a side table. "Put it on," he orders brusquely before leaving without another wo...