The Hero besides her (SCP x Super Scott SI)

[Im_just_a_Reader]

---

"I look like Lord Farquaad, but on creatine."

That was my first thought as soon as I caught sight of my reflection. Super Scott was a towering man, a physical masterpiece with dark brown hair styled into an immaculate long bob-cut. Though the hairstyle felt tacky at best, it was overshadowed by the sheer aura of his presence. Reviewing the memories of this disillusioned hero, I couldn't help but agree with his perspective. His world—bright, naive, and utterly cartoonish—felt more like a parody of my original reality.

Then again, that's exactly what it was; a cartoon world.

Still, being trapped inside a comic book felt dull. Monotonous. The dark void I currently occupied wasn't much better—a prison with nothing but endless torment.

A lesser person would've long succumb from the years of isolation and lack of stimulus, but not Super Scott; a person who gained true sentience and freedom of will, but I'm not exactly him am I?

"Well, let's just hope for the best and that Granny summon me as soon as possible.' I silently muse with determination.

With but a simple flex of my will, the horrid superhero costume I had been saddled with were overtaken with motes of light, replacing the looks of my my apparel with a sharp drip; with thick glasses perched on my nose. Beneath the tuxedo, a dark green patterned shirt contrasted against the purple pocket square as they were complimented with a gold watch that adorned my left wrist.

Of course, beneath my civilian guise hid something darker; a skin-tight blue superhero suit with white trunks, boots, that are adorned with gold accents. A disgustingly white cape hung over my shoulders, and a pair of bold golden "SC," that gleamed shamelessly on my chest.

Smirking, I admired my reflection. Even with the ridiculous hairstyle and glasses couldn't tarnish the aura of discipline and power I now exuded.

The pocket dimension began to tremble, snapping me out of my self-admiration. A summoning.

I grinned. My time here was over.

Having skimmed through the hero's memories, I felt confident in my upcoming battle. Those kids didn't stand a chance. Unlike him, I wouldn't falter.

"As if I'd give some geek a chance to pull off a last-minute power-up," I mused, adjusting my suit for the final time as the void around me began to dissolve.


---

In the blink of an eye, my incorporeal form was hurled through a vortex of light, my body reassembling piece by piece. Slowing to a halt mid-air, I then pivoted sharply and descended.

I landed—not on the concrete of the bridge, but on some cold, polished tiles.

Straightening my posture, I adjusted my collar with practiced precision. As grogginess faded, the power of imagination surged through me, restoring my physique to its peak perfection.

Looking around, I found myself in a derelict shopping mall. The air was thick with malice, and grotesque, mutated humanity of various sizes encircled me. Their warped forms twitched with agitation, their intentions clear.

A quick zooming from my eyes revealed that their twisted visage is nothing but multiple layers of skin.

Then my eyes fell on her.

My summoner.

A young girl, no older than seven, clutched the comic book tightly to her chest. Her face, streaked with tears and bruises, trembled with fear. Her ragged clothes and dirty appearance told a story of hardship and desperation.

Turning my gaze back to the grotesque figures, I noted their bright uniforms—and I don't recognize them, they neither bore the insignia of a villain or hero that I recognize so; it is safe to assume that they are... factory new, so to speak.

No matter.

One of them lunged, with his massive arm aimed for my head.

"I wasn't aware Scot dabbled in horror," I quipped with a trace of amusement after catching the appendage mid-swing. With nothing but a quick flick of my wrist, I dislocated his joint as I forced him to a knee, eliciting not a grunt of pain; but an warbled quote that grates my ears.

"The store is now closed, please exit the building," came a garbled, echoed response beneath me, something that the grotesque clones shared, with their voices overlapping in a nightmarish cacophony, they then slowly surround us without a hint of hesitation.

"That's for me to decide," I growled, my smile twisting into something darker as I slowly crumbled the limb, as slow and torturous as possible as I towered over the monster with its back molding into an arc just from the pressure I exerted. "And for you to die."

My eyes flared a deep, menacing red, casting eerie shadows across my visage. The power radiating from my body warped the air itself, sending nearby furnitures floating into the air as my aura cracked the wooden frames.

With no survival instincts whatsoever, the surrounding monsters immediately close in, only to get bisected in half by my laser while the one in my hold turned into a pancake with a quick shove of my arm.

---