As per procedure, the containment cell for SCP-106 was fortified with lead-lined steel. A hollow quiet echoed off its walls, the silence broken only by the murmurs of the O5-Command discussing the impending containment.

The non-essential staff had been evacuated, the facility was as desolate as the cell itself. All operations were remotely controlled, minimizing the risk of casualties.

"Commencing containment of SCP-106," an operator announced. The tension was palpable, even in the absence of human presence.

SCP-106 was transferred into its containment cell. The room became a battleground for man and anomaly.

As expected, SCP-106 initiated an aggressive escape attempt. It lashed out at the container with a force that echoed through the facility.

The outer layers of the container started corroding under the onslaught. "Increase the electromagnetic field," the operator ordered.

The ELO-IID supports hummed as their power increased. The cell, despite the onslaught, remained suspended, the containment secure for now.

"Containment status?" enquired a member of the O5-Command. "Stable," came the operator’s response, “but we don't know for how long."

SCP-106's attempt seemed relentless and unending. Staff members watched nervously as the situation unfolded.

The hours passed, the containment swept in a dance of peril. Yet, the fear that once ruled the control room slowly started to fade.

The containment cell, having withstood SCP-106's assault, was now almost eerily calm. The creature within went unnaturally quiet.

"Did we just… contain SCP-106?" a staff member asked, his voice reflecting the disbelief that echoed in the room.

"It appears so," the operator replied, relief washing over him. "Containment status remains stable."

This small victory, however, was no cause for celebration. SCP-106's unpredictability was well known.

The facility remained on high alert. Every rustle and shadow now seemed a potential threat, a reminder of SCP-106's relentless nature.

Yet, through the hours that inched by, SCP-106 remained contained. The lead-lined steel cell proved its worth.

This was a moment of respite. A testament to the Foundation's ability to defy the odds.

As the air buzzed with a newfound hope, the O5-Command allowed themselves a moment of approval.

Yet amid the relief, a silent understanding was shared – This wasn't the end. It was but a cautious step towards a greater victory.

For now, the containment held. But as the operator watched the screens, he knew that the threat of SCP-106 loomed unabated.

Duty called and they would answer. The O5-Command retreated to deliberate their future, in the battle against the unexplainable.

They had won a battle, but the war was far from over. Their efforts were commendable, a sigh of relief echoed through the facility.

Yet, they knew their work was unending. SCP-106 was just one amongst many. For every anomaly contained, another emerged.

The success of the containment reassured them. The strength of their collective will was evident in the containment of SCP-106.

For the Foundation, this wasn't just a containment, but a pledge. A pledge to protect humanity, no matter what lurked in the shadows.

The screen flickered in the empty control room. The silent cell stood as a symbol, a symbol of their determination in facing the impossible.

The containment of SCP-106 was a testament to their resolve. The Foundation's mission carried on.