Dimension Hopper is Unbreakable (A)

To all of you out there: Thanks for waiting, and I hope you enjoy this breeze of fresh air brought by our new semi-MC's POV!

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Saitama Bonjin was a normal salaryman on his way to Fuyuki.

Emphasis on was.

He was minding his own business as always; keeping his head down, doing everything his boss throws at him, like suddenly driving to the blasted Fuyuki city which was known for many freak accidents, all to meet some blasted overgrown manchild of a client throwing a tantrum...

He was doing all that as the good little corporate slave he was, with loud music blasting within his car in an unsuccessful attempt to somehow relieve some of his pent up stress, until he heard a most eery mixture of high-pitched wailing and hysteric sobbing from behind.

Spooked by the inhuman sounds, Bonjin was about to hit the brakes and turn around.

However, something round and heavy was suddenly thrown at his car hood with a loud CLANG, ripping his attention off from the rear end of his car.

Bonjin didn't even have time to fully register what that thing was; only that he knew some symbol was engraved onto the black metallic object, and that it looked strangely similar to one of those gadgets he had seen in those American movies...

"Hey, sorry dude, but my ass is about to get sent to hell and this is the only thing I can do foraaaaaAAAHHH!!!!"

A blonde boy jumped onto his already dented hood as his foot slammed onto the brakes, and then, a white flash filled his vision, followed by a ear piercing bang.

Bonjin was slammed against the wheel as his ears rang and his vision flashed white and black.

He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, he was panicking, hyperventilating, his breath coming out of his heaving chest in short, painful bursts of hot air dampened by his clogged up saliva-

Oh, but gods, even in his impeded state, the wailing, the horrible, tormented screaming still managed to break through his muffled auditory system-

He felt his car suddenly lurch sideways as if struck by some unholy force, he could feel the vibration of something demonic tearing through the empty seats of his car like hot cheese-

His bones rattled as his jaw clamped shut, tears burst from the corners of his eyes, everything was obscured by a haze of pain and pure terror, he didn't know what to do, what to think-

-the ground itself was shaking, splintering like dry wood, a violent earthquake that threw his entire car up and down, oh the horrendous howling, how he could feel its icy grasp on his spine, the promised call of certain death-

All he could do was to curl up into a ball and curse himself for wasting his life by slaving away at a company he despised, like a rusted cog in a machine that was about to be discarded-

And as abruptly as the anomalous incident appeared, it was gone.

The pounding, thundering footsteps receded, like a wave after a thunderstorm.

With his vision still somewhat blurry, Bonjin slowly got up from his curled position.

He felt a cold breeze on his left side- the passenger seat for Japanese cars. Strange...he didn't turn on his AC...

Bonjin blinked.

The left side of his car was torn open. Torn as in, completely missing.

Slowly, he stepped out of the crumpled-up pile of steel that was his car.

The asphalt on the road was cracked and caved in in the shape of something that resembled bare human feet.

Bonjin looked back at his old Toyota car.

He could make out the five scars that started from the rear of his car, which was most likely the main reason for the missing left half of his vehicle.

Finger scars...no...it can't be...

Bonjin crumpled down onto the road and laid down on his back. His suit was now filthy, but he didn't care. It was torn anyway.

"The flashbang....the boy...was he trying to protect me...?"

Bonjin felt tired, exhausted, but he knew what he must do.

For the first time in his life, Bonjin had a goal. He got out his phone that had miraculously survived the ordeal with him, and called his boss.

"I f*cking quit, you motherf*cking piece of sh*t."

"Wha-how dare-you know the consequences of-"

"I don't give a f*ck."

He hung up.

Rising back to his feet, Saitama Bonjin stretched his legs.

"100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10K run—every single day for a year and a half. Let's get started.", Saitama said.

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Hello there.

Who am I? Take a guess.

Nope, not Obi-Wan, sorry Star Wars fanboy. I'm just a dude.

A dude with catastrophically bad luck.

Ok, let's start from the beginning.

I'm a normal caucasian guy, entirely unspectacular, just like any other 21st-century person who likes sitting behind a screen. A man/woman of culture and an educated weeb. No, seriously, what did you expect? That I'm one of the freaking holy 05 council? The Godly Five as the devout likes to call them?

No siree.

My name? I am ■■■■. 

...? Oh, can't see my name? Ah, yes, the cognito-restricting contract.

Well, you can just call me by the name the Foundation gave me: SCP-507 'The Reluctant Dimension Hopper'.

My name is exactly what my ability is. It chucks me into different worlds as friggin' Peter Parker gets chucked around the Spiderverse, except that Spidey is a badass with an iron will, and I'm just a chill dude.

Also, I have little to no control over my powers, nor do I have any sway over where I'll get transported to. And I also get chucked back to my home dimension after a certain period...most of the time, that is.

Don't even remind me of that world where the Clocktower AND the Holy Church tried to turn me into an artifact to control 'True Magic' or whatever random bullshit name they give to my powers.

Oh, and did I mention that I have no option of fighting back so I am forced to hide whenever I hop dimensions?

I mean, yeah, I'm allowed to access some of the none-lethal low-level gadgets of the Foundation, but I'm just an average human guy with zero combat prowess. If you have one of those power scanners from Dragonball, it would give me a Zero for Loser.

At least the Founder seemed to have taken a strange liking to me despite my less-than-spectacular abilities. I am so honored that I am literally terrified.

He is THE Founder, after all.

Anyways, I was given free access to most of the foundation facilities when I wasn't bonked into different dimensions like a reality-warping goofball. I even made quite a few friends including the adorable yellow slime SCP-999 and my favorite 'eyepods' SCP-131.

Oh, and Miss. Iris was also really nice. She and Miss. Andrea would chat with me whenever they had time. They are also special agents of the foundation, how fucking cool is-!?

...Ooops. I was not supposed to say that. Please ignore what I've just said.

Ahem. The fact that I'm talking with an imaginary chat like some sad delusional streamer speaks volumes about my current mental health. My mental health, as in non-existent.

My mental well-being, as in-

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

Yeah. You got it.

"Doctor Clef! Didn't you say your trusty chainsaw could split him in half!? ", I screamed into my Foundation-provided earpiece.

"Keep him off your ass until I clean my baby up! The Shy Guy's flesh blocked up the chain's rotation! Good luck!"

"What!? Couldn't you just use a new weapon!?"

"Excuse you!? Are you telling me to cheat on my baby saw!?"

"Oh for fuck's saaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-?!"

An ominous chill suddenly ran down my spine.

I jumped with all my strength, narrowly avoiding one of SCP-096 AKA Shy Guy's outstretched arms, and latching onto a bicycle as I immediately started to pedal as hard as I could.

"KYUU!"

"Yeah, I know, poddy-boy! This is theft all right! Hang on, this is gonna be a rough ride!"

The tear-shaped eyepod hopped into the front basket, and we were off.

Ear-piercing screaming and sobbing threatened to puncture my eardrums as I frantically scanned my surrounding for a way to throw him off, even for a few seconds.

My muscles were already running on fumes at this point, and with the accumulated fatigue of running for the past several hours, I was already way past my limit. I needed to do something, and fast, before I turn into a very raw version of lasagna.

Preferably buy a few minutes until Dr. Clef finishes taking his sweet time cleaning up his favorite serial killer machine and catches up.

My eyes widened. Train tracks.

Yes, there was a bridge that went over a train track, just before my eyes! And I could already hear the train!

A crazy idea blossomed in my mind. The hideous skin-bleached creature's fingers grazed against the back wheel, jolting us forward and nearly throwing my dear eyepod out into the air.

Damn it, there was no choice but to risk it all.

"...I'm going full James Bond, buddy! Hang on tight!"

Peddling with the last of my strength, I leaned against the edges of the bridge as the train thundered past below our feet. Standing up on the saddle, with one hand grabbing the protruding tip of my buddy and the other on the handle as I steered it abruptly to the side, I leaped forward.

I would like to say I made an ideal leap of faith in Assassin's Creed textbook fashion. The truth, however, was a lot more harsh...and a hell lot more painful.

Obviously, I was not trained in advanced parachute landing techniques.

With my arms still wrapped around my little companion, I steered my body so that my shoulders and back would take the full blunt force of the fall.

News flash! Do NOT try this at home.

A loud crack was heard as my shoulder blades and forearm bone seemed to detach from my sockets.

"NNNNGGHHH!...Fuck...my fucking back...!"

My body kept rolling forward, and it took all my willpower not to scream out in pain as my free hand grabbed onto the edges of the train. The coarse edges of rusted steel cut into my palm like razor wires, slicing through my flesh like butter.

It was a miracle I wasn't electrocuted by the ultra-high voltage cables that were just a mere hand's length away from where I hung onto.

Boy, now I know what it felt like to be OG Spider-Man.

"At least...we timed it just right...", I gasped out. Looking sideways, I saw that Shy Guy had jumped down onto the rails, narrowly missing the last compartment of the train, and was chasing after us like a mad drug addict after his next fix.

I tried to get up, wincing in pain as I did.

"Just my rotten luck...dislocated shoulder bones and cracked ribs. You okay, buddy-boy?"

"Kyuu...fuuu..."

The eyepod drooped as it looked sadly at my injured shoulder. I patted its head reassuringly.

"Not my worst injury. At least should be here soon...what in bloody god's name!?"

The Shy Guy was picking up speed.

Before, he was on a world champion athlete level of fast. Now, he was on an express bullet train level of fast.

Did he change his speed according to the opponent!? If so, it would be only a matter of seconds before he caught onto the train, and if he did...the passengers...

"Gimme a break! Shit, shit, shit!"

Cursing under my breath, I patted down my body, hoping against hope that something would be there.

Nothing.

I looked up, meeting the ghastly white bloodshot eyes and horribly mangled jaws of the unnaturally tall and emaciated ghoulish creature. Its long, spider-like arms and legs, coated in layers upon layers of dried blood, flung up and down erratically in the billowing wind, like some sick puppetmaster's joke of imitating a tortured slave dancing on a hot iron surface drenched in burning vats of oil.

The distance was closing up, fast. Despair clouded my mind.

"KYUUU! KYU KYUUU!"

My companion's frantic calls jolted me back to reality. Blinking rapidly, I turned back to see what was making the ruckus.

A slender arm was poking out, in mid-air. And by arm, I mean just an arm. No body, no attachments, just a limb sprouting from space.

...Iris. Her ability to access and manipulate objects through her pictures. A transdimensional power that contributed to the cause of the SCP Foundation countless times.

The same power that shackled her with the name and burden of SCP-105.

The feminine hand opened and dropped something onto my lap, before shooting me an encouraging thumbs-up as it winked out of existence once more.

It was a small pouch with a metal tube inside, with the words: [SCP-3108-C (Nerfing Gun: For Emergency Use Only)], scribbled on the cloth.

A nonexistent memory of a child using this 'gun' to reduce his best friend to a decomposed meat paste and another into a chimpanzee flickered through my mind like a mirage and was gone before I could grasp its meaning.

An anomalous reaction that randomly occurs when I come into contact with another SCP object of some kind.

The Founder did say I have 'Eyes on the Inside', and a 'Talent for Insight' whatever that meant...no, not the time to get distracted!

"...Iris? I'm prohibited from...no, no time now, gamble time it is...!"

Seeing no other option, I hastily pulled out the metal tube and popped open the cap.

With a low hiss, and a small puff of smoke, popped out a futuristic gun and a crumpled piece of paper.

Thinking that the ball of paper was some instructions, I hastily flattened it out on the ground.

"Rule 38 of things Dr. Bright is not allowed to do: SCP speed dating never happened. Anyone who claims to remember such an event should report to Site Command for the administration of Class A amnesiac. Note to self: Add new rules about how not to allow Dr. Bright from aiming the Nerfing Gun at random anomalies. Who the f*ck even allowed that crazy motherf-"

I turned over the note in sheer desperation, hoping for something, anything.

"How to use the Nerfing Gun: Point. Shoot. Nerfed. De-Evolutional Ecstasy. GG. ~Love, Dr. Bright~ XDXDXD➝∞"

Nearby, Shy guy reared its head up to the skies and let out a ghastly, bloodthirsty howl.

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"...Kyu."

Without another word, I dropped the offensive piece of rubbish and picked the gun up.

Down below, my trusted companion shredded the note into a million tiny pieces, and scattered them in the wind. My buddy shot one last glare at the torn remains of the ridiculous note as if cursing them to oblivion.

To be honest, I would have done so too if I weren't busy aiming my new gun at the charging monstrosity behind me.

Shy Guy jumped, flying high up into the air, and momentarily blocking out the sky.

Time itself seemed to slow down as my mind entered into a state of calm, the same mental state professional athletes enter when racing. Licking my dried and cracked lips, I squinted my eyes, said my prayers to the founder, and pulled the trigger.

An electric hum reverberated through my bones as a blue pulse of raw energy shot forward and struck the dead center of Shy Guy's chest.

Shy Guy screeched, covering its face as it crash-landed onto the roof of the train. Flames erupted as the metal ceiling caved in from the sheer force, with the train itself grinding to a halt as showers of metallic sparks flew from the tracks as the train nearly derailed.

Still sobbing in agony, the monstrous being fell to its knees in an almost feral position. The cries were loud enough to rattle the glass windows of the train as its bony hands clawed at its face.

I, on the other hand, was thrown out and onto the hard ground, several meters away from the rails. A mouthful of blood clogged up my throat, doing its best to suffocate me in my weakened state. I wanted to cry too.

Moaning in pain, I rolled over, spitting out as much blood as I could. My loyal buddy trotted over and urgently nudged my cheek. I grimaced. Things were not over yet.

"...Let's see...how much you are nerfed...", I wheezed out. Boy, I sound like a 90's radio system on maintenance.

I really, really wasn't ready for what I saw next.

One moment ago, Shy Guy was what you would expect would happen if Slender Man and Dracula's mummified corpse had a child.

The next, he was...he was...

He...

"Dude...you look like a...a..."

My tongue felt dry. I swallowed and spat out the two words that I would have never imagined using in the same sentence.

"...A castrated Gigachad!?"

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Omake

My earpiece crackled.

"Hey, kid. Reinforcements are on the way. I also got a satellite image trained on your position...the fuck?"

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"...What the fuck is that...abomination?"

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"...Kiddo...answer me. I most likely probably maybe wouldn't grind you in half if you are honest. I promise. Kind of."

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