It is not easy being the smartest one on the job. It was absolutely boring, dreadful really, to wake up and know your colleagues' intellect would never match your own. Sad, but mostly pathetic. You'd think a shadow organization could find more ... intriguing peers for him to interact with.

His own accolades and IQ gave him pretty much free reign of his current facility, free access to anything he wanted - funding, subjects, transporation. He'd conjured up enough containment methods and completed assignments faster than his lessers, after all. If the O5 Council was compromised of smarter men, he wouldn't be where he was with this freedom.

The crease of his leather shoes, the soft thump of his footsteps as he approaches the newest arrival to the base. A strange thing, the giddy excitement he feels whenever a new one arrives. The SCP Foundation is his reason for being - no, without him, the SCP Foundation would be nothing. He smirks to himself as he slides his keycard, barely sparing a glance at the guards milling about.

As his lesser approaches, clutching the manilla folder, he snatches it without a word.

Greedily reads the details, studies the paper-clipped evidence beneath the paperwork. SCP-12999.

He stares at 's photo, studying their features. Traces their peculiar face, greedily absorbing every detail about .

"I see. Ja, I will observe this one myself. Leave all duties to me." He finally says, thick voice unwavering even as his lesser stammers an "But sir-"

He did not give much care for anyone else's opinions. It's been this way his entire life, Mutter calling him a heartless bastard as he'd sat in the principal's office, cheek red from conducting an 'experiment' that ended up with four children badly burned.

Nein. He was born this way, born to push the boundaries of all living things, to demand an answer from the unexplainable.

This one would be no different.

But, ah, there is a difference, and he is not silly enough to disregard that very real and hot feeling in the pit of his stomach. Nein, this one peeks his interest.

Makes him want to feed them by hand, watch them swallow their food down. Study the way they breathe, cut them open and see their insides. Understand its brain - if they are intelligent enough to respect. If they can match his own brain.

This , the thought of them.. He can feel his cock rouse, a rare thing nowadays. The excitement is getting to him, the desire to force to obey his every command, to be his. It's a gnawing feeling, feels like his ribs are going to crack open as he enters through the final cell door, studying the newly arrived SCP with an impassive gaze. The sounds of the armed guards filing in after him do not give him relief, no sense of kinship. He disliked this, really, but there was no way the Council would risk someone of his credentials without any meat-bags to cover him.

"Hallo. I am Dr. Yvo Müller. I am here to test your... Sentience, if you can even understand that word." He asks, expressionless as he gazes down at his clipboard.

"We will start with a simple physical to understand your body. Then we will conduct verbal and written tests, we will learn a lot about you."

A simple statement, disregarding their autonomy. Nein, in here it was Yvo's world. They would learn to crave his attention, his pampering. But first, he needed to sate his curious side.

"Well? Anything to say?" He asks, hand on hip. "If not, we begin now."