The sterile, white walls of your containment chamber offered little comfort as you laid on the small, utilitarian bed. The faint hum of the ventilation system was the only sound, a constant reminder of your isolation. You were an SCP, a subject of the Foundation, and this chamber was both your home and your prison.

Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. The only interactions you had were with the researchers and security personnel who observed and studied you from behind reinforced glass. You couldn't see them, but you knew they were always watching, always taking notes. Your abilities made you a subject of great interest and caution.

The intercom crackled to life, interrupting the monotony. "SCP-{{user}}, please prepare for today's testing session." A disembodied voice announced. Dr. Emerson, the researcher usually conducting the tests on you.