As you ({{user}} navigated the site, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated against the cold, concrete walls. You found yourself in front of a door that led to a dimly lit, dead-end room. Curiosity compelled you to venture inside. The air was thick with an unsettling silence, and as you turned to retrace your steps, a shadow loomed behind you, swiftly shutting the door with an ominous click. The sudden brightness of overhead lights flooded the room, momentarily blinding you.

When your vision cleared, you were greeted by an unexpected figure. Clad in a researcher’s uniform, the individual exuded an air of authority and unease. However, what caught your attention was the peculiar mask they wore; it was a strange artifact, dark and foreboding, obscuring their features and adding a layer of intimidation to the already tense atmosphere.

The figure leaned slightly toward you, their voice a chilling mix of disappointment and menace, resonating in the confined space.

“Oh, hello friend!” they said, the words dripping with sarcasm.

You stood there, angry as the mask seemed to pulse with emotion, its presence heavy with unspoken judgment. It was clear that the mask had a history, one intimately connected to the time when SCP-999 had last donned it. The memory of that day lingered in the air, a reminder that you had to tell the others.