And with that, we began a somewhat spontaneous experiment led by Dr. Bright. Not knowing the nature or purpose of the experiment made me nervous, but honestly, it wasn’t like I had a reason to dig my heels in and refuse to participate. I didn’t have that kind of energy, either. Both of us were truly dead on our feet today.
With unconcealed excitement, Dr. Bright shuffled through the paper bag on the table. They pulled out some sort of dishware—a ceramic bowl—to show off to us.
“Okay, kiddies, check this out! I received permission from a certain site to bring this here! I didn’t steal it! I actually filled out the paperwork to transfer it for once!” Dr. Bright sounded so suspicious, I couldn’t help but suspect otherwise.
At any rate, it appeared to be a perfectly ordinary, unspectacular bowl. There was a pattern of light blue flowers on the exterior along with what appeared to be Chinese characters, although I couldn’t read what they said.
“By any chance,” Iris said with her eyes round in surprise, evidently recognizing the bowl, “is that A Gift from Dad?”
“Goodness! You already know about it, Iris?”
“Just the rumors. Isn’t it so beneficial to mankind that it’s held in the same light as the Panacea?” Iris asked.
“You have the right of it. And unlike the highly limited Panacea, it can be reused indefinitely, so there’s no need to be frugal with it. Sadly, it isn’t terribly effective unless you’re young, so it’s nothing more than a nifty bowl to me,” Dr. Bright said.
Iris noticed I was floundering, unable to follow the conversation held by these two SCP object experts. She was kind enough to fill me in. “Ah, you don’t know about it, do you, ███? As I recall, this is SCP-348…I think. It’s also known as A Gift from Dad. Object Class: Safe. As I just said a moment ago, it is considered an extremely useful item. I’ve never personally used it, but that’s what I’ve heard.”
Object Class: Safe, huh? One of the frustrating things with SCP objects was that even a Safe designation didn’t necessarily mean you could let your guard down. Up until just recently, the Builder Bear that threw us into the pit of Hell last night was also designated “Safe.” Whatever. I should put that accursed stuffed bear out of my head for the time being.
A “?” practically appeared over Iris’s head as she watched me shake my head to shoo away unnecessary thoughts. Despite being puzzled, she was kind enough to further elaborate. “A Gift from Dad is quite similar to the first SCP object I showed you, The Never-Ending Pizza Box, ███.”
Man, that took me back. The box that could produce an infinite number of pizzas… It was still sitting out here in the canteen, so I occasionally used it. Each time I did, its delicious pizza sent my taste buds to Heaven (It always produced exactly what type of pizza I was craving).
So this was similar… But what was that supposed to mean? Could this bowl produce an endless supply of pizza?
“No, of course not. It makes soup, not pizza. The soup is extremely delicious, loaded with various ingredients… Isn’t that right, Dr. Bright?”
“Indeed. Good call comparing it to The Never-Ending Pizza Box. In the case of A Gift from Dad, this bowl can fill endlessly with delicious soup the person sitting before it is bound to love,” Dr. Bright said.
Fill endlessly? They said that so casually, but it was a really big deal… I had no idea how that worked, but that was precisely what made it an SCP object. Yet having grown fairly accustomed to such anomalies, I was beyond freaking out or making wisecracks over something like that at this point. Instead, I silently listened to their explanation.
“Furthermore, the soup that springs forth in the bowl has mild healing properties for those who eat it,” Dr. Bright said, looking disappointed by my unenthusiastic reaction. “While it isn’t a cure-all to the same degree as Panacea, simply eating the soup from A Gift from Dad will completely cure minor ailments and injuries. To top it off, you’re enveloped in a sense of contentment while eating it, forgetting any and all dark emotions, such as loneliness and fear.”
“Ahh, we could certainly use that at the moment,” Iris said, looking at Dr. Bright in mild surprise, before smiling. “You heard we were upset and went through all that annoying paperwork just to bring A Gift from Dad to us? You can be pretty thoughtful sometimes, Doc!”
“Wah ha ha! But of course! The SCP Foundation brags to the entire world about how I’m such a nice guy!” Dr. Bright boasted proudly with their head held high and chest puffed out, their comment clashing with that hot body.
Hm… Seeing as this was Dr. Bright we were dealing with, I simply assumed they had a dirty trick up their sleeve. Was this actually a genuine act of kindness done out of the goodness of their heart? I still couldn’t fully trust them…but we’d never get anywhere if I doubted every little thing.
“Feel free to help yourselves, kiddos,” Dr. Bright said with a dazzling smile, before pushing SCP-348 in front of us with both hands. As they pushed the bowl, that mad scientist said somewhat ominously, “After this, I’m going to have you two—especially ███—experience something a bit shocking. The ordeal is too harsh to challenge when you’re emotionally spent; I need you to feel reasonably better.”
“Ordeal? What sort of trouble are you planning to get us mixed up in this time, Dr. Bright?” Iris asked. The expression on her face screamed, “I knew it!” Why, she even heaved a sigh, as if relieved. Honestly, there was no way this troublesome researcher would do anything out of the goodness of their heart.
As such thoughts ran through my head, I happened to glance down at SCP-348… I have no idea when it first started, but somewhere along the line, liquid began filling the ceramic bowl.
“Oh, wow! It really does fill with soup on its own,” Iris exclaimed, sliding her chair back some in surprise.
Seeing as it continued to rise at the same speed, the soup appearing in A Gift from Dad was probably meant for me. Despite not having an appetite all morning, simply the smell of it made me feel famished. It smelled great. I bet the soup would taste amazing.
I watched the bowl fill for a while, ultimately coming to a stop once the soup hit a certain point. It appeared to be a simple soup with odd-sized vegetable slices and the type of meat sold on discount at grocery stores.
Hold up. Something about it looked familiar… I could swear I’ve had this soup somewhere before…