Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Special Containment Procedures Foundation

Site-17

Junior Researcher Maka Albarn’s Personal Journal

 ██/██/████

Today, I examined again the documents regarding SCP-127’s recovery and containment. Since I first saw it, I knew the Living Gun is one of the most amazing objects subjects we've found. According to my mother’s investigations, it could be one of the beings she called the “Demon Weapons”: humans with the ability to shapeshift into weapons of different kinds at will, stronger and more powerful than any forged one.

SCP-127 would be one unfortunate case, where something went wrong, and the process got stuck between the physical appearance of a weapon and a biological organism. Even regarding SCP-127’s intriguing mechanisms, her theory sounds quite insane. Sometimes I think her colleagues were right when they said that, though she was brilliant, she was slowly losing her mind, and there has never been such thing as the Demon Weapons. It would not be rare for someone working in this place to start failing to distinguish what is real and what is not.

(I was her only daughter, and she raised me by herself. It's weird, but, even so, I feel I never truly knew her. She was excentric, she had all these odd quirks.)

(But then, I remember her, the last day I saw her. She was not crazy.)

Then again, I might be. Today I felt it again, a warming sensation and a strange glow that appeared in my vision. Pulsating lights on those that surrounded me. The sight always makes me feel disoriented and dizzy. I tried to breath and relax, until they slowly disappeared, as some of my colleagues came closer, believing I was about to faint. I am afraid of speaking about this with Dr. Glass, even though I already had a couple of therapy sessions with him; I am worried he would consider I am not sane enough qualified to continue working here, and I can’t let that happen. Not until I have some answers.

I was planning on re-reading my mother’s journals, especially the parts where she describes the weapon she said she found, and lost: a young man who could turn into a scythe. But this will have to wait, as I was earlier informed that Dr. Stein and our team have been assigned the study of a new SCP. They told us he is a boy, or at least he looks like one, who came willingly to Site-17 a week ago, requesting to be contained. What is he really, what are his true intentions, and no less importantly, how he knew about the Foundation, are the things we must find out. Dr. Stein will be interviewing him tomorrow in the Gesell chamber, while I and the other junior researchers will be behind the mirror. I would say I am disappointed for my own investigations having to wait, but I am not. It is always fascinating to encounter a new SCP, especially if it is arriving under such unusual circumstances.

Chapter Text

Item #: SCP-8842

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Due to his own willingness to stay in Site-17, minimum containment procedures are to be applied to SCP-8842. He has been assigned a standard room for humanoid with minimal decorations; it is worth noting that every object or furniture in the room must be maintained in an ordered and symmetrical fashion. Surveillance is to be constant during all movement outside of his quarters.

Description: SCP-8842 is a male teenager of 16 years old, with pale skin,  black hair with three white stripes in one side and yellow eyes. SCP-8842 typically wears black and white clothes. The subject has not shared his name, and insists in being called simply “Kid”. Besides the fact that his hair and eyes show atypical colorations, the rest of his exterior physiognomy is that of a normal human being of his age. Nevertheless, a computed tomography revealed that [DATA EXPUNGED].

The subject exhibits a variety of anomalous properties and capabilities. Tests have shown enhanced senses, especially when it comes to hearing and night vision. His physical endurance and strength are beyond that of a normal human being, tests have also confirmed his claim of having an accelerated healing, managing to fix superficial wounds almost immediately; partial thickness wounds within seconds; full thickness wounds, even affecting vital organs, in a matter of minutes and [REDACTED] to the head in 2-3 hours. Investigations about how this processes works are still ongoing. It has been demonstrated too that the subject can survive prolonged lack of oxygen and [REDACTED]. The subject assures to be immune to infections of any kind, further research on this must be effected. He also seems to be unaffected by various known poisons, toxins and other chemicals, including anesthetics and analgesics.

The subject is capable of manifesting a dark substance, that would seem initially as a shadow, but is able to affect solid objects, apparently by the control of a variable density. The subject can manipulate these projections at will, it has been proven these are strong enough to lift a maximum weight of  ██████

It is remarkable that the subject has been willing to demonstrate and cooperate as much as possible when evaluating the extents and limitations of his abilities, but it has been reported he is not as willing to share details about his origin and upbringing, and he seems prone to anxious episodes when pushed. Researchers are encouraged to be cautious when exploring such topics.

Interview 8842-S

██/██/████

[REDACTED]

Dr. Stein: How did you find out about the Foundation?

SCP-8842: My father… he mentioned it once.

Dr. Stein: Who is your father?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: Where is he now?

SCP-8842: He is dead.

Dr. Stein: What happened to him?

SCP-8842: Someone killed him.

Dr. Stein: Do you know who did it?

SCP-8842: …

(The subject started showing symptoms of a panic attack, requiring a brief intervention by Dr. Simon Glass. Dr. Frank N. Stein continued the interview after a few minutes)

Dr. Stein: Why did you come to the Foundation?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: Are you afraid of the other guys? The Insurgency, the Coalition? You told the agents you wanted protection.

SCP-8842: …yes, but, not for me.

Dr. Stein: For who?

SCP-8842: For you, for humans.

Dr. Stein: Are you that dangerous?

SCP-8842: No… yes, I mean… There is something coming.

Dr. Stein: What is it?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: What is coming?

SCP-8842: I am not sure...

Dr. Stein: What do you think we can do about it?

SCP-8842: You can study me.

Dr. Stein: What do you mean by that? How would that help us?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: Listen, I know you even agreed to be vivisected. Not that I am against that but… why would you subject yourself to these experiences?

SCP-8842: The more you learn about me, the more and better prepared you will be to face him.

Dr. Stein: Who is he?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: Kid, who is he?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: Kid?

SCP-8842: …all I know, is that he is like me.

(The subject refused to answer more questions. The interview was suspended by indication of Dr. Glass)

Addendum 8842-00 “The subject exhibits symptoms of anxiety, as well as compulsive behaviors. As we can be sure that antidepressants, even at high doses, would not have the desired effect of alleviating the subject’s symptoms, I suggest a cognitive-behavioral therapy to begin as soon as possible” – Dr. Simon Glass

██ / ██ / ████

Addendum 8842-01 “We understand that, though being an Euclid, SCP-8842 has been given special considerations and freedom, but that does not mean we can forget to take important precautions. Given the incident occurred last night, in which SCP-8842 almost managed to destroy SCP-158, from now on SCP-8842 shall not be left to get close to other SCPs without strict supervision” – Site 17 Director Dr. ███████

Addendum 8842-02 “That THING should be [DATA EXPUNGED] and then [REDACTED] into the trash can!” – SCP-8842, about SCP-158.

Chapter Text

Maka Albarn walked hurriedly through the white, endless hallways, until she reached Frank N. Stein’s office. She was about to knock, but instead, she chose to simply open the door and storm inside.

Dr. Stein raised his head from his book. Maka would not say he was the strangest of the scientists working in this place, especially when she remembered the monkey, but with his stitched lab coat and the giant screw protruding from his head, he was very close.

“Albarn,” he said calmy, “what is wrong?”

“Dr. Stein, I…” she felt a nervousness creeping up, but she steeled herself. “I’ve been reading the documents regarding the experiments effected on Ki… SCP-8842.”

“And?”

“And?! Dr. Stein, this is unacceptable!”

“Maka…”

“We are torturing him!”

 “We need to learn as much as we can-”

“Please…” she interrupted him. “Stop using science as an excuse. This isn’t for science!”

Dr. Stein’s expression darkened. “You are right, Maka, this isn’t for science. And we must not believe it is…” He put the book down and got up, towering over the girl. “Don’t you remember there are bigger things at stake here? You were there, you heard the SCP: there is, at least, another one like him. One that won’t be in our side.”

“If we keep on doing this, he won’t be in ‘our side’ anymore.”

“Maka…” he said with an exhalation. “This is not mentioned in the reports, but… some of the experiments, he suggested them himself.”

Maka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Stein continued:

“You and I both know this isn’t, by far, the worst thing the Foundation has done to some of the poor souls in this place. Why do you care so much about him?”

Maka bit her lip. He was not wrong. But after seeing the boy crumble when asked about his father’s death, she couldn’t deny she was reminded of that day, five years ago, when she learnt that her mother had disappeared; something that, in her line of work, most probably meant death. Or something even worse.

“If this is affecting you that much, you should talk to Dr. Glass about it,” he said, as she looked away in resignation. “And if it’s still too hard for you, we can consider a reassignment…”

“No! Dr. Stein… I can do this. I am sure I can.”

Maka’s level of clearance was high enough to enter both the Safe and Euclid sections of containment. As she was assigned to SCP-8842, the guards did not question her. The hallways were quite dark, with just a faint illumination, as she passed through them that night. The different numbers in the doors were apparently random, chaotic and disordered, but nothing could be further from the truth. She stopped when she saw the number 8842.

Maka gave a tentative knock, and paused. The sound had been minimal, but then, before she could doubt again, the door opened.

Despite her being two years older, they were the same height. She stayed unmoving, face to face with the boy.

“Kid… I need to ask you some questions.”

“I did not know I had another interview appointed,” he answered in a monotone.

“This isn’t… official,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you. Privately.”

He looked in the direction where, they both knew, a camera was.

“My understanding was, that such thing was not possible in this place,” he said.

“Their recordings will be in a loop for the next half an hour, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” he said, as he looked at her again, with glowing yellow eyes. “Aren't you?”

In that moment, Maka was stricken by the reminder that he was an SCP. An inhuman, anomalous being. That Euclid stands for incomprehensible, intelligent, and most importantly, unpredictable. If this thing chose to attack, she was screwed. She hoped her thoughts were not showing on her face…

“I remember you,” he suddenly said. “You were there. Behind the mirror.”

Curiosity quickly surpassed her incipient fears.

“How do you know that?”

“Behind its reflection, I could see your soul.”

She was about to say she did not believe those things existed, but this wasn’t the time nor the place for a metaphysical discussion.

“Why did you come here?” she asked.

“I’ve already told you,” he said, walking away from her, inside his room. “You need to prepare. Something is coming.”

“Something…you mean someone, like you?” she asked, mindlessly following him into the room.

He nodded, slowly.

“Your organization might have the means to stop him,” he spoke, as his eyes focused on the symbol stitched in her lab coat, a double circle with arrows pointing inward.

“But… we are not the only ones!” Maka exclaimed. “I get why you came to us, but why do you stay here when we, when we are just…” She interrupted herself, unable to continue. One thing was to read about the procedures performed on SCPs; another one was to witness them. And another one, was to talk with the subjects about it.

“Who else could I go to?” he almost whispered, “I’m well aware there are other groups, most of them too small and disorganized to achieve their own ends. The Coalition might have a chance, but they fail at understanding their enemies, something that has already had fatal consequences for them.”

“How do you know all this?” she asked. “Who are you really?”

“The Foundation’s objective is to maintain Order. To keep humanity’s minds sane. So is mine.”

Maka thought about those words. His answers were too vague, he wasn’t willing, or maybe he wasn’t ready, to share more information now. There was no point in continuing to bother him.

“I am sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“For everything, for… what we are doing to you.”

“I am not,” he said sincerely. “I just hope it’s worth it.”

Maka looked down and turned to leave the room.

“Wait,” he said, as she stood in the threshold. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

After a pause, she spoke:

“It’s Maka… Maka Albarn.”

Maka would be lying if she said she didn’t saw a spark of recognition in his face as she said her name. But maybe it was just the penumbra, the stalking fears and anxieties, her overactive imagination…

“Goodnight, Maka Albarn.”

“Goodnight, Kid.”

Chapter Text

Solomon “Soul” Evans could not sleep last night. Again, he had nightmares where they would find him, where they would murder his family, as he watched, unable to save them. The fear, the powerlessness and the pain were still too real, even though he knew that it would not happen now, it would never happen, as he left his family and home so long ago.

So they would follow him, and leave his family alone.

His eyelids felt so heavy. That was the reason why he could barely pay attention to whatever the enthusiastic artist in front of him was saying…

“This guy, they say he made a fuuuugly sculpture. And get this, it remains static while you are looking at it, but… if you blink or look away… CRACK! It breaks your neck in a millisecond!”

“Dude, not cool,” Soul said.

“What happened to it?” Vincent asked.

“Last thing I knew…” Turner replied, “the Hoarders took it.”

The Hoarders. The Jailors. The Mad Scientists. Also known as the Foundation. One of the many groups that would appear in Soul’s nightmares, and probably the worst. It was after joining this tribe of peculiar, traveling artists, all of them as unusual as himself, that he realized that “they”, were more than just one group:

There was the Coalition, which would simply kill him, quick and clean. The Chaos Insurgency would try to use him as a weapon (what else could he be, after all?). The richies, Marshall, Carter & Dark, they would sell him to some millionaire as an expensive curiosity. But the Foundation… they would trap him and take him to the darkest of rooms, where he would never see the sky again. They would only take him out to perform all kind of terrible, painful experiments. For as long as he lived…

“So… Soul?”

“What?”

“I was asking you, if you are going to the exhibition next Saturday.”

“I’m not sure…” he answered.

“Come on! There will be music too, you could participate, play something…”

“I’m… not that good,” Soul said.

“Don’t be so modest!” Vincent exclaimed. “You all should hear him playing, it touches your soul!”

“Will you go, Soul? It would be so cool!” Mona said.

“I… I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Text

Unknown dangers lurk in the dark. Terrifying monsters are stalking in the shadows, waiting to prey on innocent lives, but we are not afraid, never will be. The Old Gods want to taste again the fear of humanity, but we are stronger than they are.

We declare endless war against the forces of night and darkness, on its monsters and creatures, on the Gods themselves, and on those who create chaos and defy nature.

We put human lives first and above all, unlike those willing to sacrifice human beings for a deity they call Science.

Our greatest enemy: the paranormal terrorist group known as the Serpent's Hand, bringers of destruction, always planning and thinking of new ways to bring harm. Our objective, to find and destroy the anomalous horrors and threats. Humanity relies on us. The Gods will tremble at our sight.

I am Agent Blackstar. We are the Global Occult Coalition.

They say that we should not exist. They say that we are reality’s mistakes. They call their ignorance “normalcy” and demonize what they don’t understand. They would not let us live free.

Some of them come to us with their lab coats and needles, to observe us closely, wondering what are we made of, like it was something other than flesh and bone. Others want to buy us, sell us, use us…

But our worst enemies, they would rather see us extinct. They hunt us down, destroy our families and burn the places where we try to hide. When they are not slaying us, they are planning and thinking of new ways to bring harm.

I’ve seen them murder countless, those I could not save, their screams weighing in my soul. Because many can’t defend themselves. But I can.

My duty: protect and defend those who cannot. Like my family has done for generations before me. I will be their Weapon.

I am Tsubaki, of the Serpent’s Hand.

Chapter Text

Marshall, Carter & Dark, LTD.

New York Club

Central Office

In the highest floor of the building, the group of men in dark suits guided the two blonde girls thought the hallways they had already memorized for years, and then, inside the spacious, elegant office.

“Take a seat, please,” said the man looking at the city lights through an enormous window. A man both girls were hoping to never see again.

“I can’t believe it,” he spoke. “After everything I have done for you both.”

As he turned to face them, the tallest of the girls looked away, fiddling with the furry lining of her jacket, while the youngest looked at him, pleadingly.

“I took you from the streets, I‘ve provided you with food and shelter, I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for.” He got close to them, his robust frame clad in a expensive suit, with golden rings on his short fingers. “All I wanted in exchange was, some loyalty…”

“I swear it, we were just..!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME AGAIN, BITCH!”

Both girls lowered their heads, used to his outbursts since long. He took his hand to his head and exhaled.

“You know? I could have saved me all your troubles. I could have sold you both a long time ago. As separate pieces, so you would never see each other again…”

“Marshall, please…”

“I don’t understand, then, why are you so eager to… escape. Especially when you can’t. You already know I have the means to find you, wherever you go, wherever you hide…”

The youngest girl sobbed. Liz silently cursed the day they tried to steal from Marshall.

“But, if this doesn’t make you happy, maybe we can reach an agreement. You would have to pay, of course,” he continued. Even with his back towards both girls, Liz could hear his smile. He walked to his desk and took a beige envelope. “There is this… thing. It’s worth millions, more even. Enough to pay your debt to me, and not worry for the rest of your lives. A last job goodbye!”

He laughed. Liz still wouldn’t look at him.

“I just need you to retrieve it, nothing you haven’t done before,” he said. “It won’t be easy, though. The place that houses it, specializes in high security containment of anomalies.”

“…the Foundation,” Liz realized, as a shiver went through her entire body. A bunch of mad scientists, always excited about cutting down to pieces whatever they could get their hands on. Until now, Marshall had protected them from that, and other groups. She hated the idea of putting Patty in such danger, but she knew Marshall wouldn’t let them go for less. As long as they were together, she could protect Patty.

“What is it?” she finally said, looking at Marshall in the eyes.

“Rather, who is it?” said Marshall, opening the beige envelope and showing both sisters a picture.

Chapter Text

“Incident 353-8842 is a reminder that we must prioritize our safety and reinforce security measures in all of our Sites. This breach in our security will require a full investigation in order to prevent something like this from happening again.” O5-██

Security Camera 23-34G Log

1900 (Uneventful)

1905 (Uneventful)

1908 An unknown woman (later identified as Elizabeth Thompson), wearing glasses and a lab coat, is seen walking from the west entrance.

1912 The woman uses a card (later discovered to be a Level 4 clearance card, which had belonged to ██████). It immediately opens the doors to hallway number 3.

Security Camera 34-53G Log

1913 There is no sign of the previously seen woman. Instead, a shorter woman, also wearing a lab coat, is seen entering hallway number 3 (the woman is later identified as Patricia Thompson)

1915 The subject walks into the main hall, towards the cafeteria. 

1915 The subject seems to stop momentarily, as an instance of SCP-368 flies next to her, and then hoovers in front of her face, before flying into the cafeteria.

1916 The woman continues walking. There is a sudden bright light as she crosses the door.

Liz crossed the wide doors, with Patty in weapon form hidden behind the white coat. According to Marshall’s information, she would be entering the Site’s cafeteria and common area now. Working for Marshall, she had seen really weird stuff in her life. But nothing could have prepared her for what was in here.

She believed this place was some kind of jail, but being inside, a circus would be a more appropriate comparison. There was a monkey wearing a lab coat, walking with a book in one hand, and a coffee in the other. There was a dog with glasses talking with some of the personnel. Not too far from her, a smoking cigarrete hung midair. Something passed flying in front her, she could have sworn it was a… origami bird?

There were a couple guards in the area, but all of them seemed focused in a group of three people (prisoners, she realized) conversing around a table. Liz couldn’t decide which of the three people was the weirdest. One of them, short and dark-skinned, talking with a deep, animated voice, had some kind of golden mane around his face that reminded her of a lion, his hairy body barely covered by a short tunic. Next to him, a blond man was listening with a fascinated expression. There was nothing remarkable about the blond guy’s physiognomy, but it surprised Liz to see the large quantity of things the guy was carrying: a backpack with a hanging pan, a sleeping bag and a shovel, from his neck hung googles, a snorkel, and binoculars, on his belt she saw a gun (were they allowed to carry those in here?!). But the third individual, a boy wearing black, with white marks on his hair, and an unreadable expression on his face, was the one Liz couldn’t make herself turn her sight away from, not even when his golden eyes moved and stared right into her blue ones.

The personnel walked and chatted around, as if the sight the place offered was nothing unusual, and she understood she had to act, not stop and stare. She broke eye contact and kept walking towards the northern wing.

Post incident interview (extract)

Dr. Stein: Where were you yesterday evening, from 19:10 to 19:30

████: I was at the cafeteria, sir.

Dr. Stein: Can you tell us again what your assigned duty was?

████: I was supposed to watch over Bes and Ste… sorry, 208 and 507’s interactions with 8842.

Dr. Stein: But you saw her.

████: Well, it was difficult not to see her, she was… you know…

Dr. Stein: To the point, please.

████: Right… I saw her walking towards the northern wing. She had this look on her face, the one all the newbies have… I hadn’t seen her before, but, I did not think she was an intruder, I just assumed it had to be one of her first days.

Dr. Stein: Did you… notice anything else?

████: No, nothing… I’m sorry, Doc.

Security Camera 56-46H Log

1926 There is no sign of Elizabeth Thompson in the northern hallway, again it’s the subject identified as Patricia Thompson the one who is seen walking towards the Keter containment area

1928 Two guards stop and interrogate the subject. One of the guards takes a radio communicator. The woman pulls out a gun and shots him before any transmission is sent. The weapon shots a bright light that hits the guard in the chest. She shots the second guard before he can stop her, and the same phenomenon is observed. With both guards down, she starts running through the hallway.

Post incident interview (extract)

Dr. Stein: And there was no wound?

Dr. ███: We checked thoroughly, Dr. Stein. Even made some further analysis.

Dr. Stein: What hit them, then?

Dr. ███: Whatever that weapon used, wasn’t even a bullet.

Dr. Stein: What did they… say they feel?

Dr. ████: Something certainly painful, and strong, blowing the air from their lungs. Stein…

Dr. Stein: Yes..?

Dr. ████: We asked Bes to check on them. He said that, whatever that was, it hit their souls.

Dr. Stein: I see…

Security Camera 42-34H Log

1933 The woman identified as Patricia Thompson arrives to underground containment unit.

1935 Subject is seen stopping in front of SCP-353's door. She uses the same card seen before, to make the doors open.

1936 The doors are open. SCP-353 exits the room. They have a short dialogue. Both subjects run away from the area.

SCP-353 "VECTOR", KETER LEVEL OF THREAT, HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT.

“We will take care of their security measures. Just use this, and it will open any of their doors,” Marshall said, giving Liz a card. “Our agents will be waiting outside to retrieve the subject and pick you up”

Liz took the card, color orange and white, “LEVEL 4” written on it, with a symbol made of three arrows pointing inward. She placed it above the map on the table.

“Marshall…” Liz said, looking again at the picture of a young, dark-haired woman. “This girl… what does she do?”

Marshall just smiled.

“You don’t need to know.”

Site-17's Security Team

Audio LOG

“Start protocol 353-Q! Send in the Mobile Task Force…”

“Sir, the emergency lockdown is not working!”

“WHAT?!”

“The system is not responding…”

“FIND THEM! Terminate the subjects, if you have to! That THING can’t get outside!”

Soon, Patty and Vector reached the hallway right towards the last door. The final exit.

“Come on!” Patty said, Liz in her hands on weapon form.

She did not have to say it twice; the woman was following close, eager to be free again.

“You know… where I’ll go first?” the dark haired woman said, between breaths, “Japan… then the rest of Asia… then Africa…”

“Hey not so quick, you are coming with us!” Patty said as they stopped, pointing the gun at Vector. “You are doing what I say.”

“No, I don’t think so, cutie,” she laughed, bold for someone held at gunpoint. “I think you’ll be doing what I say.”

Patty felt a stabbing pain in her stomach, a sudden dizziness made her unable to remain in her two feet and she fell down. A bright light, and suddenly, a second, taller girl, was next to her.

“Patty!” she held her as she turned to face the smiling woman in front of them. “What did you do to her?!”

“She is infected, lethally so.”

The smaller girl started coughing, red drops staining the floor.

“She is only got a couple minutes left, I’d say…” Vector continued.

“What have you done?!” shouted Liz.

“Give me the key, that card, and I will spare her…”

Liz desperately took her fainting little sister’s hand in hers.

“Patty where is the key? Give it to me.”

Patty weakly pointed at her pocket, Liz took the key and extended it towards Vector.

“Thank you, princess.”

Patti started coughing again, and her sister saw even more blood come out.

“Wait!” Liz yelled. “You said you would spare her!

“I lied,” Vector answered, in a singsong voice.

“YOU BITCH!” Liz tried to get up, but a sudden pain in all of her body made her fall. Her breaths were feeling short and she struggled to inhale.

Marshall… He knew this. He didn’t tell them.

She realized he never expected them to survive this. She had made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and now they would die…

Patty would die.

From the floor, she turned to see her little sister, laying now unconscious behind her, and then, in front of her, the woman walking to the door. She could distinguish someone appearing from the shadows, and placing himself between Vector and the exit. Liz saw the bright, golden eyes, and recognized the boy from before. She wanted to scream at him to run, that he shouldn’t try to stop her, he couldn’t, no one could…

But she could barely breath.

“Move it, brat!” yelled Vector.

“No,” he answered.

Vector smiled, but as the seconds ticked, nothing happened.

“What you are trying to do won’t work on me,” the yellow-eyed boy said, and tilted his head to look behind the woman, towards the two girls in the floor. “They gave you what you wanted. Why didn’t you release them?”

She laughed.

“It’s… more fun this way.”

His face darkened.

“I can’t stand those who kill for fun.”

“Really? How bad!” she said, walking towards him. With or without germs, she was bigger than the kid. “That doesn’t sound like my fucking proble-“

The darkness around her sprang to life, as it grabbed her wrists, her ankles, and her neck. Suddenly, her whole body was crashing into one of the walls, then the other, and finally, the floor.

“How..?!” she shrieked.

“Release them.”

“I can’t!”

“I know you can” the boy said.

“Who are YOU?!”

She tried to scream, but it was cut short when the same darkness covered her mouth. The boy sat on his knees next to her, as she trembled, muffled sounds escaping her.

“I can feel every single life you are carrying within your veins. I can make them all disappear, along with yours.”

Vector looked at him, her eyes filled with tears of fear. She could sense the microscopic lives inside her agitate, in something close to horror. As if, they could hide from him. As if she could protect them from him. She could feel now who he was, what he was, he was the end, he was…

“Release them. Now.”

Liz felt the air filling her lungs again, as the pain quickly faded, leaving her exhausted. She looked at her sister, so pale just a moment ago, now slowly regaining her color. The sound of running made her look towards the people coming towards them, wearing biohazard protection, the three arrows symbol on their uniforms. She closed her eyes and fainted.

Addendum 535-8842-01: “Proposition for reclassification of SCP-8842 submitted to the O5 Council” -Dr. Stein

Addendum 535-8842-02: “Proposition for reclassification denied” -O5 ██

Addendum 535-8842-03: “Come on! You all saw the videotapes, he was swinging around that Keter like she was a ragdoll!” -Agent [REDACTED]

Addendum 535-8842-04: “Oh send me a copy of the video, please!!” -Dr. Bright

Addendum 535-8842-05: “SCP-353 has started showing psychotic symptoms, showing agitation, apparently hallucinating, mumbling things about “the End”, and Death coming for her. A daily dose of [REDACTED] will be added to her food” -Dr. Glass

Chapter Text

The gray van entered the small city that sunny summer morning. Unlike in most of their missions, this time the people inside were wearing civilian clothing. After a few turns, the van stopped.

“Ok, team,” the oldest among them instructad, a muscular dark skinned man with black tattoos on his arms. “There has been anomalous activity on this city, all we have to do is a standard recognition, and some interviews on witnesses…”

“So boring! When will the action start?” agent Blackstar exclaimed, as the doors opened and he jumped out of the van.

“Blackstar,” agent Sid Barret replied, getting down behind him. “Given your, unfortunate mistakes in our last mission, I have agreed that you need to learn an important lesson in quietness and stealth, and I have brought you to the perfect place for it.”

Sid pointed at an old, small building in front of them.

“Town’s library? Sid, are you kidding me?!”

“You will have to stay here for a couple of hours. We will be back to pick you up…”

“Sid, this is no fair!” the blue haired boy yelled.

“Sorry, Blackstar.”

“Take this as an opportunity, check old newspapers, see if something like this has occurred before,” Kilik told him.

“If he even knows how to read!” Ford laughed.

Blackstar clenched his fists and took a pair of steps towards the bespectacled agent.

“Ok Blackstar, relax! And Ford, stop that!” Sid said, and turned to address Blackstar again. “We will be back soon!”

Sid got on the vehicle again and closed the doors behind him. The boy saw the van head away, with his arms crossed and jaw set in anger. But it’s not like he wanted to listen to some boring interviews anyway!

Tsubaki walked through the wooden hallways of the Wanderer’s Library. The bookshelves extended for way longer than her eyes allowed, maybe infinitely. She had never met anyone who had seen where the Library began, or where it ended. The place was a secret treasure, a gift for whoever came in peace, open to learning and understanding, here they could find the collection of every book that had ever been, and will ever be written.

Walking around her, or resting with a book in one of the various chairs and sofas available, were all kinds of individuals, there was a silent monk with a brown habit searching for a special volume, a black cat was passing the pages of a novel, an old knight and his short, fat squire carried some books towards a table…

Those who knew the Ways in and out of the Wanderer’s Library, knew every library was One, and the eternal, omniscient Library could be accessed and exited from within any other.

Tsubaki had heard rumors about sightings of an anomalous entity in a small city. As a member of the Serpent’s Hand, protectors of those in danger, he made it her duty to investigate them. It could be just someone like her, but without a family or friends to take care of them, alone and scared, like so many she had found before. She had to be there before either the Jailors or the Bookburners arrived.

As she crossed the Way, she started hearing faint sounds around her, hushed voices, then the singing of birds, as the place around her started to distort. The wooden floor became gray tiles, then she was surrounded by sudden daylight illumination, and by shorter bookshelves. Young students came and went through two big doors in front of her, open into a small city.

Blackstar took the stack of newspapers to one of the table, and started to browse through the first. This was so not fair! With only 16 years old, he was the youngest agent ever in the Global Occult Coalition. He was not made for dusty books or old libraries, but for action, battle and winning.

He looked at the clock again. Only five minutes since he arrived here!

He looked around. People in this place mostly seemed to be students, some focused in their books, others talking and laughing in hushed voices, some wearing headphones, others sleeping above their homework.

He looked at the clock again. Six minutes. Too much research for now! Time go get something to eat. Maybe he could do some recognizance around, too.

Tsubaki walked from a busy avenue to a lonelier street, with dark alleys between buildings. Suddenly, she saw a boy come out from one of the alleys, screaming:

“HELP! Please somebody help us!”

No one seemed to be close, and Tsubaki did not think it twice. She ran towards the boy and into the alley, following him. She saw him approach another figure, taller than him, and probably of her same age.

“What is it? Who needs help?” she asked, trying to sound calm.

Pulling out a knife, the taller said:

“All the money, now!”

Tsubaki saw the small knife, she perceived the trembling in the hand holding it. The weapon was nothing compared to her own blades. Tsubaki considered that violence, while an option, had to be the absolute last resort. That did not mean she couldn’t give these two a good scare anyway, she wondered what expression would they make when she simply showed them, or when she suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

But with the possibility of other groups already in town, looking for something anomalous, such actions would be too risky…

Calmly, she opened her backpack and started searching for her wallet, when a yell startled the three of them:

“FEAR NOT! BLACKSTAR IS HERE! WHO IS IN DANGER?!”

The scene answered his question. Blackstar ran towards the armed boy, and before he could react, the blue haired boy disarmed him with one move, and then punched him on the nose, sending him to the floor. The second boy tried to hit him but Blackstar caught him and used his momentum to make him swing and fall above his friend.

“Let’s get out of here! Come on!” one of them said, as they both got up clumsily and ran.

“YEAH YOU BETTER RUN, DIRTY COWARDS!” Blackstar yelled, and then turned around towards the girl. She was tall, her long black hair held in a ponytail, her gentle eyes a deep purple.

“You ok, girl?” he asked.

“Yes… thank you.”

“Do you want some water?” he continued, concerned. “Somewhere to... sit down for a moment?”

She thought she really didn’t need any of that, but the sincere voice and caring expression of the stranger were something special.

“I’d be so grateful.”

“I think I saw a coffee shop very close. Come on! I invite you!”

Soon they were both sitting in the small cafe. She was eating a small salad, while the boy in front of her was somehow managing to bite a tower of a sandwich made with all the available ingredients.

“You are so lucky I was close!” Blackstar said, his mouth full. After a moment, he added: “I can’t stand to see bad guys hurting the weak!”

She wouldn’t agree with the “weak” part, and if this guy really knew her, she was sure that would be the last word he would use to describe her. She observed him carefully, with a nickname like “Blackstar”, that spiky hair and the star tattoo on his arm, Tsubaki wondered if the boy was a member of some local gang. But she knew better than most that looks could be deceiving.

“So… what do you do, you work or…?” he asked her.

“I work in a library.”

“Wow, Tsubaki! You must be so smart! In the Town’s Library?”

“No, I am… not from here…”

“This is a very boring place to come on vacation!” the boy commented.

“Oh no, I do some voluntary work too, that’s why I am here, really,” she explained. “I help people, reunite families, find them places to be safe.”

“That, that is something really nice!” exclaimed Blackstar; she was a hero, determined to make other people’s life safer and better, just like he was.

Tsubaki remembered then that she had come to look for someone who was probably in danger. She could try to see what a local knew about the incidents:

“Weird things are happening around here, right?”

“Yeah, I know!” the boy answered without thinking.

“What have you heard about it?”

“Not much!” Blackstar said hurriedly, realizing his mistake. Looking somewhere else, he said: “Just that there is something really scary around… and you?”

“Something like that. Do you know since when?”

“No idea,” he answered, and after finishing his can of soda, he looked at Tsubaki in the eyes, and asked her: “You gonna eat the rest of that salad?”

They left the coffee shop and walked back towards the small library.

“It's not safe to go around alone, Tsubaki,” he said, his voice suddenly very serious. “Those two could have hurt you, but they are nothing compared to… the kind of nasty things that are out there. Some people don’t believe, but I have seen them.”

His sudden dark expression surprised her. People who talked like that, they were often very superstitious, or they knew something more. Tsubaki thought for a moment, and then asked:

“I would really like us to talk more. Will I see you again?”

The boy almost stumbled.

“OF COURSE!” he said, with an enormous smile, any trace of the previous seriousness gone.

He and his team would be around for a couple days, anyway...

Chapter Text

Liz woke up on a cot. She was in a small, white room.

Four white walls, a white floor, and a high, white ceiling.

In front of her was a door.

“Patty…”

She jumped to her feet and tried to open it, but it was locked. She started hitting it.

“PATTY!! PATTY!! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Desperation invaded her mind and body as her heart started beating faster, her arms and legs quickly feeling weaker.

“HELP, PLEASE! PATTY!”

A voice spoke from above her

“Elizabeth Thompson…”

She was paralyzed for a second. She looked up, there was a camera and a speaker. The voice spoke in a monotone, mechanic voice:

“You were exposed to a dangerous, infectious hazard. You must remain in quarantine until we declare you are saf-“

“WHERE IS PATTY?!”

“Your sister is in a room just like yours. She will receive the same treatment.”

“BRING HER TO ME!!”

“That is not possible”

“PATTY! PATTY! LET US GO!”

Liz continued yelling, hitting and kicking the door until she couldn’t anymore. She let herself fall down, her back against the closed door, tears on her eyes.

The speaker remained silent.

“Who are you..? Where am I..?” asked Liz, almost in a whisper, though she already knew the answer:

“You are being held by the SCP Foundation.”

SCP Foundation

Site 17

Conference Room A-2

Meeting regarding Security Breach and Anomalies ████/01 and 02

“As we realized the anomalous weapon seen in the video was not found, and it isn’t seen at the same time as Elizabeth Thompson, we are considering the possibility that the older sister is actually a demon weapon, with the ability of shapeshifting into a pistol,” Dr. Stein explained. The Site’s Director made a grimace, clearly not buying into that theory, yet; but the rest of the presents seemed to be considering it seriously. Stein continued: “The moment of transformation is not seen in the audiovisual records, as it is obstructed from the angle.” The slide showed pictures from the video.

Then, the presentation ended, and the lights were turned on.

“About the risks,” Stein continued, “the sisters showed symptoms when exposed to 353, though in both cases the manifestations demonstrated remission at the same time, after 8842’s interactions with 353, so-“

“What was he doing there, anyway?” the Director interrupted.

“He told me that stopping the Keter would be within ‘the Foundation’s best interests’,” Dr. Stein replied.

“That is not what I…” the Director said, closing his tired eyes. “I mean, isn’t he supposed to be under constant surveillance?”

“Most of the guards were sent to find the intruders and the loose Keter,” Agent White rushed to explain. “The rest were divided in two groups, tasked with escorting the Safe skips to their respective rooms. Each group assumed 8842 was with the other…”

The director pinched between his eyebrows, and decided to change the subject:

“What do we know about the intellectual author of this?”

“We have reasons to believe the breach was orchestrated by Marshall, Carter & Dark, LTD,” Agent White spoke again. “If the sisters worked for them, they could have useful information. Unfortunately, they are far from cooperative.”

“That's because we’ve kept them locked and separated,” Dr. Glass interject. “The older of them is extremely distressed, constantly demanding to see her sister. The younger stubbornly refuses to either speak or eat…”

“What do you suggest?” asked him the Director.

“Put them together.”

After a moment of silence, the Director said with an exhalation:

“We are not doing whatever they wish. We might as well ask them what they want for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea, if that gets the younger to eat something,” Dr. Glass replied.

“Whatever they can do, they can only do it when they are together. All we have to do is reinforce security, maintain surveillance, and if they try something, we’ll have the chance to observe it,” Dr. Stein said. “Both were exposed to 353, at the same time, and both showed remission of symptoms. Even if they are still infected, I see no point in maintaining them separated.”

The director seemed to reflect about this. “Very well…” he finally said, “we’ll place the two together…”

“What if we place the three together?” said a young, feminine voice.

Everyone turned to see junior researcher Maka Albarn.

“What?” the Director asked her.

“8842 is isolated in quarantine, too. The older sister must remember he helped them. He has positive views on the Foundation and its objectives, that might have… an useful impact on both sisters.”

“Absolutely not,” said the Director.

“He hasn’t shown open hostility towards human…oids,” continued Maka.

“Until he cleaned the floor with 353!” someone exclaimed.

“Yes, but… I consider that an important motivation for such action was…” Maka replied firmly, trying to find the most appropriate words. “A true intent to protect those he saw in danger.”

She was of a short stature, and with the Director looking at her, she felt even smaller. He pressed his lips before speaking:

“Nonsen-”

“I agree with with researcher Albarn,” Dr. Glass spoke, his voice slightly louder than what everyone was used to hear on him. “The interviews have shown he considers human life valuable, and worth protecting.”

Leave it to the Head of Psychology, Maka thought. She just hoped they were not making a mistake.

After hours of meeting, Maka was exhausted. She walked past the cafeteria, not even stopping to get something to eat, wishing nothing but to crash in her bed.

“Maka!! Wait!!”

Oh, there he was again. Another junior researcher of her same age who seemed to be frequently and “casually” finding her.

“What?” she answered, maybe a bit too harshly.

“Look at this!” he said, waving a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

“An underground theater program!”

Was he inviting her? That… definitely wasn’t her style. She tried not to sound too exasperated:

“Sorry, I… I am not that interested in that.”

“This will interest you! See this!” he said, pointing at one of the titles in the list of plays.

“Janus and Death, a play by the independent theater company ‘The Anatomical Variations’. Hiro, do you realize this was… two weeks ago?“ she said, pointing at the rehearsal’s date.

Hiro smiled and hushed his voice:

“We have heard that the actors display anomalous traits. One shows a second face, another is cut in half in one scene. Most in the audience believe they are watching an exhibition of amazing makeup skills and illusionism…”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Maka replied, without enthusiasm, preparing to turn around and leave.

“They say that, in one scene, one of the actors shapeshifts into a scythe…”

Maka siffened. “What?”

“What you heard. They have been difficult to follow, they are constantly moving and changing their group’s name. We believe they are actually an-artists, members of ‘Are We Cool Yet?’”

Maka could not believe it. Was that true? Could… could that be, the man her mother met?

“There will be an art exhibition, tomorrow. Apparently planned by AWCY. We believe their group will be there.”

“Are there...” Maka’s hushed voice was barely a whisper. “Any plans?”

“The Foundation will send a couple of undercover agents to investigate if there really is something anomalous in there, but, they are not planning anything bigger," Hiro explained, in a hushed voice. "At least not for now.”

Chapter Text

Maka arrived early to the exhibition. She was wearing a short skirt, a yellow sweater and a dark coat. She was worried one the Foundation’s agents would recognize her, but she could always claim that she was interested on independent secret art conventions, and argue that had no idea that AWCY was involved with this particular exhibition.

The place was big, with glass walls and marble floors. She could see, in the center of the room, a group of musicians, each of them with an instrument, but strangely immobile. Was that one of those modern, silent pieces?

She was really no fan of modern art. She walked around, watching paintings that looked as if someone had merely thrown some colors there, without shape or sense; also some sculptures that would make SCP-173 look handsome in comparison. One of the “musicians” started playing a dissonant, non-melodic, repetitive noise, and Maka thought she preferred the silent piece.

There was nothing anomalous in here, besides the prices, that is.

Soul and his friends arrived to the exhibition

“Last time we saw some Jailors around,” one of the organizers told them. “They thought we wouldn’t notice, but we spotted them really quick. For example, those two tall dudes over there, you can be sure they come from that place.”

A couple of Soul’s friends tried to look carefully, but he didn’t dare turn his head around.

“Don’t worry,” their new friend told him. “They always leave early. During the first couple of hours, this will all seem just as any other modern art exhibition. The cool stuff will become… visible later.”

In the center of the room, there was a small band and some instruments. They had just finished playing an original piece.

“Come on Soul, I know them,” exclaimed Turner. “They will let you play something!”

“Maybe later, I am…”

“We all want to listen!” said Mona.

Soul did not like being the center of attention, but maybe the only way for this to pass as quickly as possible, was to simply let them win.

Maka thought this might end up being just a terrible waste of time. But at least, it seemed that someone who actually knew what to do with a piano had finally taken the seat.

The song was dark and enigmatic, and she thought she really liked its rhythm.

She closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the music without distractions. When she opened her them again, she saw once more the small lights within the people around her. But for the first time, the sight wasn’t disquieting or vertiginous, but rather, it was like she could control it. Like opening and closing a second pair of eyelids. No more dizziness, no more headaches, just a carnival of light.

She looked around. Every and each of those present had a unique, special light, like a small flickering flame. A teenage girl with green eyes and pink hair had a purplish, whimsical light. A short man in a suit with golden rings, who was discussing prices with one of the artists, had something quite unnerving about his… she quickly turned around to look at another, and saw the boy who was playing the piano. She thought that he had the most beautiful of the lights she had ever seen; like the music, his was so mysterious, a riddle for her curious mind, and filled with contradictory feelings, deeply sad and and brightly hopeful at the same time.

She approached the boy and the growing group of people surrounding him. She blinked, seeing the lights disappear and the real world’s colors appear, and noticed the boy’s white hair, his bright red eyes. When the piece ended, she joined an enthusiasthic applause. The boy seemed to blush and look down. Most of those around started to walk away, others approached and congratulated the musician.

When he got up from the seat, accompanied by a small group who seemed to be his friends, Maka got closer to them.

“That was beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“Thank you…” he replied. Next to him, one his friends hit another with his elbow, and a long haired girl eyed her with mistrust, but Maka didn’t mind.

“Where did you learn to play like that?”

“My family, they… are musicians.”

Maka smiled at him. He seemed interesting, and maybe he knew something about the mysterious theater company she wanted to investigate.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Solomon… But my friends call me Soul. And you?”

“My name is Maka.”

“Ok Soul, we will be around!” said Vincent, taking Turner and a protesting Mona with him.

Maka and Soul stood in front of a chaotic array of colors and textures.

“What do you think the painter wanted to express?” asked her Soul.

“I think that if this person knew what they were intending to express, they would have written an essay,” Maka said with a sneer.

Soul thought about that for a moment.

“Maybe it's not about defining a thought, but sharing a feeling,” he said. “There are experiences you can’t put into words. That’s why we need not only words, but sounds and color as well.”

Maka seemed to consider that, observing the painting again.

“Well, I still think there is a difference between music and noise,” she said, as they turned and continued walking. She stopped in front of another paining: a quite surreal, but more or less definite portrait of a woman.

“I like this better” she said. Soul thought she didn’t seem to be an artist, or too enthusiast about it. 

“So… how did you know about the exhibition?” he asked her.

“A friend told me the Anatomical Variations would be here, I wanted to meet them, you know?”

“Really?” he said, surprised. Maka saw him blush and look down again. "It… it’s us”

“What? I can’t believe it, I’ve heard so much about you!”

“Good things, I hope,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

“Yes, actually!” she smiled, but did not elaborate. After a pause, she asked him in a hushed voice. “Is it true… that one of you can shapeshift?”

Again, he seemed to blush and look away…

“Oh my God! It is you, right!”

“…yeah”

“That’s amazing” she smiled, and Soul thought her enthusiasm was kind of strange. But maybe it was just that he did not like being the center of attention…

The portrait of the woman in front of them blinked. Suddenly, all the art pieces around them started to change. One of the sculptures danced slowly on its place; in a couple of paintings, the colors started to change, Maka thought she could see there shades of colors she had never seen before.

“It’s starting… the true exhibition is starting”

Chapter Text

Anomalies ████ /01 and 02 have been assigned the number 6613, Euclid class, and will be distinguished as subjects “E” and “P”. As they have already spent two days in isolated containment, the directives suggest at least 12 more days in quarantine before deeming them safe from infectious hazards. Since now, the three SCPs will continue the assigned time in shared containment.

Day 03

Liz walked through the long hallways towards a door. She could not see the faces of the armed people transporting her, as they were wearing biohazard suits with gas masks. She remembered walking towards Marshall’s office, it felt like that happened so long ago, but it could not be more than a few days ago. In front of her, the door opened, leading to a small hallway, where another pair of doors remained closed. As she entered the hallway, his captors stayed behind and closed the doors. Only when those where closed, the pair in front of her opened. She entered a room way bigger than the previous, closed space where she had been before. She could see a dining table in one side, a small living room in the other, as well as doors leading to small bedrooms.

Not even more than one minute later, the doors opened again.

“PATTY!”

They both rushed to hug each other.

“Are you OK? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine, sis,” the younger said.

“You look so pale! Were they feeding you?”

“I did not eat the food,” she said, in a hushed voice. “What if they placed microchips in the food to find us when we tried to escape? I saw that on a movie!”

“I don’t think… I didn’t think about that,” her older sister said. “You need to eat. We will worry about that later.”

She noticed there were three bedrooms, but she was not going to be away from her sister again, not even a couple meters.

“We’ll take one of the rooms, we will be there together, Patty. We won’t let them separate us again.”

The doors opened again.

Liz instinctively placed her little sister behind her with her arms, as the boy with golden eyes and dark hair came inside the room. He had helped them before, but after seeing what the boy could do, she did not want him anywhere near Patty.

“Sis, who's that?” she asked her sister.

“He is the one who… helped us, when that woman almost killed us.”

He approached them, and as he did, Liz brought her sister closer to herself. The boy seemed to notice this and stopped suddenly, maintaining a respectful distance. If he was going to say something Liz never knew, as in that moment the speaker above the door activated:

“The three of you were exposed to a dangerous biohazard. You will remain in shared containment for the next 12 days.”

Then it became silent.

“What will they do with us, sis? Are they going to dissect us?!”

“I can’t assure you they won’t," the strange boy interjected before Liz could reply. "Some people here are more eager to do that than others." Liz could feel her blood run cold at the monotone statement.  “It will be better if you just answer their questions,” he continued.

Liz eyed him with skepticism. She knew better than to trust in the first guy that showed up to “save” them. But… he was a prisoner here, too, wasn’t he?

“What’s your advice?” she asked dryly.

He got closer to them. His voice was hushed as he spoke, but Liz doubted the microphones, that without a doubt were in this place, wouldn’t catch it.

“Think well what you will tell them and what you won’t.”

Liz did not answer, and the boy spoke again.

“What are your names?”

“I am Patty, and this is my sister Liz,” the younger sister exclaimed, before Liz could stop her.

“And you are…?” Liz asked.

“Kid…“

“Kid?”

“Yes. Just Kid”

Maybe his name was one of the things he was choosing not to share.

The voice above spoke again.

“Your dinner is ready.”

The doors opened, and they saw a person, with the same type of suit and gas mask as the people before, transporting their trays and leaving them on the table, then walking out. Liz watched the individual stand in the space between the two stes of of doors, as a shower rained above, cleaning the suit for some seconds. Then they left.

Liz sighed and took two trays from the table.

“Patty and I will be eating in our room.”

Day 04

Interview SCP-6613-E/1

(Through digital media)

Dr. Stein: We already know you are both guns. We need to examinate your effects separatedly, with different wielders and various test subjects.

SCP-6613-E: Only we can wield each other. Marshall… he tried to make other people wield us, but it never worked.

(…)

Dr. Stein: In front of you is a picture. We believe this building belongs to Marshall, Carter & Dark, LTD.

SCP-6613-E: Yes, Marshall is often in there.

Dr. Stein: What did you do for him?

SCP-6613-E: Most of the time, he sent us to retrieve objects, or be part of his… security team.

Dr. Stein: What kind of objects were you sent to retrieve?

SCP-6613-E: All kinds of them.

Dr. Stein: Including anomalous items?

SCP-6613-E: I don’t now. Most of the time, we didn’t know much about the things... or, the people, we took. Marshall said we didn't need to know, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Addendum: The subject confirmed our guess that they are both the same kind of weapon. So far, she appears to be telling the truth, as the known MC&D base was openly recognized by her. It is still necessary to corroborate her claim about them not being able to be wielded by another person. I suggest tests to begin as soon as their quarantine time is over. –Dr. Stein.

Day 6

“Sis, are we going to stay here forever?”

“No Patty. We will find a way out. I promise.”

She noticed Kid had approached their door, his food tray on his hands. Now he thinks he can join us? she thought.

“Elizabeth. I’ve seen you give most of your food to your sister. I do not need to eat much.”

She would have rejected it, but to be honest, she was really hungry. She got up and brusquely took it.

“Thank you, Kido!” Patty said, with a smile.

Day 8

Liz remembered very well the map Marshall had showed them before. She was already imagining a plan to escape. The first phase involved being as cooperative as they could. If the boy was right, that came with some benefits, including to be allowed to roam around the place and interact with other prisoners, or “skips”, as they liked to call them. For her plan to work, they would need all possible help. If the kid was as powerful as he seemed to be, it would be advantageous to have him on their side.

Kid was on his room, reading one of the many books junior researcher Albarn had sent him. It was the eighteenth time he was reading the short story “Death and the compass”. Once more, the intrepid, cunning detective arrived to the perfectly symmetrical house, where mysteries would be revealed…

Liz approached and stood on his door.

“They've just brought dinner;” she said. “Maybe… we could dine together.”

Day 12

NOTE: The interaction between the three SCPs has proven to be beneficial for them, as well as significant for the cooperativeness of the two instances of SCP-6613. There are still two more days left to complete two weeks, however, so far none of the subjects has presented more symptoms. Dr. Stein has proposed both instances of SCP-6613 to be allowed limited freedom within the facility, for brief periods, proportionally related to their cooperation with the institution.

Chapter Text

Nothing was going to be the same after that day at the exhibition. Maka had already seen the unbelievable, and perceived the anomalous as both dangerous and interesting, intriguing and challenging. But she had never seen it as something so beautiful.  

It wasn’t only that. The second sight, she could call upon it now, and the lights would appear. It felt real, but she knew hallucinations felt real. But if that was not her imagination, what was she even looking at? The memory of the red eyed boy’s face appeared.

Soul…

Maka was looking at their souls. Was she? She didn’t even believe in souls. Not only she doubted what she couldn’t see or measure, but she also questioned what appeared to be evident, too.

Any present evidence should be profoundly examinated, as the lack thereof cannot be. She decided to experiment with that second sight, and discovered it could show her the presence of other people, even behind walls and beyond closed doors. She tried to take a glance at a couple SCPs: she found she could pinpoint the invisible woman’s precise location; behind his door, Bes’ light radiated like a warm sun; the permanently sedated, dreaming “witch child”, showed a purple aura…

Was she like them? An anomaly? If she told her fellows or superiors, would they mark her as an SCP and assign her a number?

Maka walked inside a dark room, with a floor like a chessboard of black and red squares. She vaguely knew she was dreaming.

Then she saw white hair. The boy was there, playing his piano, the same dark and emotive song. As he turned around, she saw his red eyes, the sharp teeth behind the smile…

They found each other again the next night, in the same room. They danced together to the music of an old gramophone. Maka thought his eyes looked sad as he spoke to her:

“Is this real? Are you real?”

She smiled, what a weird question to ask!

The dream repeated a couple of times. Sometimes they would dance together, other times they would talk. Unlike a regular dream, where the details were slowly forgotten during the day, this seemed to be searing even more strongly in the memory with every passing hour, and it became clearer each time it repeated.

Soul noticed that, since it began, there hadn’t been any more nightmares.

Chapter Text

The cafe was small, there were warm lamps in the walls and fairy lights on the windows. Blackstar and Tsubaki shared a pizza.

“Then, we took that family to a new house,” Tsubaki explained. “Of course, they miss a lot their old home and lifestyle, but they don’t have to worry anymore about… those who tried to hurt them.”

“I still think somebody should go get the bastards.”

“They are too many, and too powerful.”

“I don’t care how many are they! I would go right there, and punch them all in the face!”

“Blackstar, violence doesn’t solve everything.”

“But you admit it solves some things. And I’m sure THAT would teach them to leave people alone.”

His localizer started beeping, and he hurried to read the message. His face paled, and his fists closed.

“Blackstar? What is wrong?”

“I have to go, it is urgent!” he got up quickly, ready to run. “I’m sorry, I’ll explain everything later.”

He looked at Tsubaki again before leaving, and saw the worriedness etched in her face.

“Tsubaki, please be careful!”

“You too!”

With that, he ran outside.

Tsubaki knew Blackstar had some job in private security, she hoped that whatever was happening, would turn out alright. She paid their food and walked outside. The hotel where she was staying with her friend Kim was not far from here. Tsubaki had asked for her help after she had not been able to find any clue on what was going on. They both investigated the sightings, and after these couple of weeks, they concluded that maybe, what had been here was already gone.

As she walked near a bar, a bright blue star of neon light reminded her of spiky blue hair and she couldn’t help but smile. She thought of his easy laugh, his honest will to help others, and the way he worried about her...

Suddenly, she remembered a blue pentacle was the emblem of the Bookburners, those who called themselves the Coalition.

Such a despised symbol now had a completely new meaning.

A young woman ran through the dark alleys, screaming for help. She could hear the heavy steps, the breaths of the monster following her. She fell when her shoe’s heel broke. In a blink, the creature was above her. Paralyzed of fear, she could distinguish in the penumbra the hollow eyes, the many teeth, and the sharp blades the creature had for hands. The thing raised its monstrous arm and she screamed.

When Blackstar and the rest of the Coalition arrived, it was too late.

Chapter Text

“Attacks by multiple unknown hostile anomalies have been reported to the Foundation. Data leaked from the Global Occult Coalition tells us that their group has been investigating sightings of such anomalies in the city of [REDACTED] since at least two weeks, without being able to find them. The Foundation must make it its priority to capture these specimens for research.” O5-██

Interview SCP-8842, 17.

(…)

SCP-8842: His madness, it awakens and strengthens them.

Dr. Stein: Whose madness?

SCP-8842: I’ve already told you. He is coming.

Dr. Stein: What does this mean?

SCP-8842: I have seen them before. They were human once, but not anymore.

Dr. Stein: What are they?

SCP-8842: We call them kishin.

Dr. Stein: Kishin?

SCP-8842: They devour souls. We used to fight against them every now and then, but I had never felt so many before.

Dr. Stein: How did you fight them?

(SCP-8842 doesn’t seem to hear, looking around the room, he stops suddenly, looking at the mirror)

Dr. Stein: Kid, how did you fight them?

SCP-8842: …

Dr. Stein: How can we fight them?

SCP-8842: The most effective weapon against them, are the ones made of soul.

Maka tried it again. The lights appeared within everybody around. In front of her, across the one-way mirror, the boy’s light was like no other, enormous, powerful and golden. But she found herself not only amazed by the sight, but also by the fact that she knew he was looking at her too, she was sure then that he could see her own light, the same way. She saw him, seeing her, seeing him, seeing her… she felt like she was between two mirrors, inside a labyrinth of lights, the dizziness made her head spin, and she felt she was falling.

It was only minutes later that she woke up and realized she had fainted. Some of the other junior researchers caught her and took her outside, accompanying her as she recovered. She didn’t have to wait long before Dr. Stein finished and left the interview room.

She had to tell him.

Camera and Audio Log from Cafeteria, Table 5.

(Fragment 1707)

(SCP-208, SCP-507 and SCP-347 are sharing the table)

SCP-208: I am so happy you are finally back, man, I missed you!

SCP-507: Like you didn’t have your other friends at the medical wing.

SCP-208: It’s not the same, you know it.

(SCP-8842, SCP-6613-E and SCP-6613-P arrive to the table)

SCP-208: And look who is back, too!

SCP-507: Hi, Kido!

SCP-8842: Hello. Let me introduce you to Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson. Liz, Patty, these are…

SCP-507: No, wait! You have to give me a name.

SCP-6613-E: What?

SCP-507: You, choose a name for me!

SCP-8842: Just call him Steve.

SCP-507: Kido you ruin all the fun.

SCP-208: These guys will never give you their real names. I am Bes.

SCP-347: And I’m Claudia!

SCP-6613-E: Who said that!?

SCP-347: Me! I am right here.

SCP-6613-P: Ouch… you, you poked my nose!

SCP-6613-E: Are you… invisible?

SCP-208: Only smart people can see her… (SCP-208 suddenly jumps, like something hit him) Hey, just joking!

After Dr. Stein paused all the cameras and tapes in his office by Maka’s petition, she explained him the strange feeling that had been haunting her.

“And today… I could see him, seeing me...” finished Maka.

He kept quiet for a moment, taking his hand to his head and turning his screw.

“Dr Stein, am I going mad?”

He did not answer. Trying to keep her fears at bay, she addressed him again:

“Dr. Stein?”

“Maka…” he finally said. “As you have probably imagined, most of us scientists here have the most unconventional projects and interests. Some of them secret even to the Foundation itself.”

“What are you talking about, Dr. Stein?”

“Since long, I have been studying the inner properties of souls. I almost thought you would never develop the ability both your mother and I shared. The same ability 8842 displayed today.”

Maka’s eyes were wide open as she listened to him.

“We called it Soul Perception.”

“Soul… Perception?”

“The ability to perceive another being’s soul. With enough training, that could become a profound and precise source of information about other individuals.”

“So… we have this ability, and so does Kid? Dr. Stein, what does this mean? Are we… anomalous, too?”

“I think ‘normal’ is an elusive, relative term,” he said, walking towards his dark desk. “But your mother never agreed with me.”

Maka saw him open a cabinet with a small key.

“The Demon Weapons were not the only thing she studied so dedicatedly,” he continued. He took out an old carpet, and showed Maka a carefully drawn graph. She could recognize there her mother’s neat handwriting. “This graph shows the dates of apparition of most documented anomalies. There is a sudden increase of them at this point, 800 years ago. Since then, anomalies have been growing more frequent, and more dangerous. Don’t get me wrong, what we call anomalies existed before, but they were rarer.”

“What happened 800 years ago?”

“Your mother and her colleague’s theory was that there was some kind of… disturbance in Order, like its continuity, its grip on reality had somehow faltered, never to be the same again. They believed some form of power, hostile and contrary to Order itself, raised against the world.”

Maka thought she had heard something like that before. What was he going to say next? That that this mysterious, failing Order was actually Mekhane? Were they secret believers of the Broken God dogma? Just what was he talking about..? And…

“Wait, you said… colleague?”

“Your mother was working with another researcher, a brilliant, expert thaumatologist.”

From another carpet, he took an old picture. Maka saw there two women clad in lab coats. One was her mother, with her dark blonde hair and green eyes. Next to her was a taller woman, with a lighter shade of blonde hair and an enigmatic smile.

“Her name was Medusa.”

Camera and Audio Log from Cafeteria, Table 5.

(Fragment 1730)

SCP-6613-E: So… why exactly are you all here?

SCP-208: You make it sound like we’ve commited some crime.

SCP-347: Maybe I did.

SCP-208: I am a healer. Steve here is a teleporter. You can see… or rather not see, what makes Claudia special. And you already know what Kid can do…

SCP-6613-E: You are a teleporter?

SCP-507: A kind of pseudo-teleporter, I can travel through different dimensions. Unfortunately, I can’t control it.

SCP-6613-E: But if you..? Why haven’t you (hushed unintelligible voice).

SCP-507: WHY would I escape?! Just look at this place, it’s fascinating! Out there, they thought I was insane, I almost got to believe that myself. They made me take all kind of medications I did not need, strapped me to beds hoping I would stay there… It was awful.

SCP-6613-E: I am... so sorry…

SCP-507: Being found by the Foundation is the best thing that ever happened to me!

SCP-8842: Steve sometimes ends up far away from this place. He just waits there until the agents go pick him up.

SCP-507: I just wish I could be of more help here, you know, be a researcher myself, do important things. Like Claudia, she’s been on missions!

SCP-347: Meh! You are not missing much.

SCP-507: Really, you think so?

SCP-347: … no, it's awesome!

SCP-6613-E: So… you are invisible, they have taken you outside… why are you still here?

SCP-347: (hushed laugh) I actually escaped once.

SCP-6613-P: What happened?

SCP-347: I had been living on the streets before this, and that’s what I went back to. It was then that I realized how much I missed having warm food and my comfy bed.

SCP-208: I thought you missed us!

SCP-347: Yeah, that too…

“Where is Medusa now?” Maka asked Stein.

“She betrayed the Foundation. Fifteen years ago, she left, taking with her a dangerous SCP, a sword named ‘Ragnarok’, believed by your mother to be a Demon Weapon. What was she planning to do with it, I have no idea. We believe she's joined the Chaos Insurgency now."

“Dr. Stein, this… this is too much.”

He remained quiet, as Maka tried to put some order in her thoughts.

“Do you think the Insurgency is responsible for… what happened to my mother?”

“As members of the Foundation, we gain way too many enemies.”

He didn’t have enough clues, not even to make a guess. She decided to ask him about the other important aspect that was bothering her:

“When they said Order, did they mean… some kind of, higher entity?”

“Like a divinity? Maybe, I am not sure.”

“Is this… what the Church of the Broken God talks about?” Maka asked. She really did not want to pry into some divine mess.

“No, no… this has nothing to do with that. At least not with that god.”

Directive’s Reunion Security Tape

(Fragment)

Director [REDACTED]: “Weapons made of soul”, what is that supposed to mean?

Agent White: Could it be, the “Demon Weapons”? We have two of those now. I say we take them in our next mission.

Dr. Stein: It is possible, but we shouldn’t risk them like that on a hypothesis. We should make some tests in laboratory conditions first.

Dr. Noah ███: Yeah, all we need a couple of this “kishin” specimens.

Dr. Stein: 8842, on the other hand, seems to know well this threat. Taking him to our next mission facing these "kishin" creatures would be a good opportunity for us to observe him.

Director [REDACTED]: Taking anomalies to the field is never a good idea. The risks are too high.

Dr. Stein: We have done it before, with 347 and 073…

Dr. Noah ███: Not to mention 963 here.

Dr. Bright: Call me that number again and you are dead.

Dr. Noah ███: Relax, Jack.

Agent White: I agree with Dr. Stein. Both Claudia and Cain might soon be part of MTF Alpha-9.

Agent ██████: MTF Alpha-9 is still on an experimental phase…

Director [REDACTED]: …that won’t get far.

Agent White: But it is an ambitious project that-

Director [REDACTED]: Has already proven it cannot work! Anomalies catching anomalies, it sounds good in theory today, just like it did 10 years ago. But we all remember what happened with Pand… MTF Omega-7.

Agent White: MTF Omega-7 had serious issues…

Director [REDACTED]: I think what happened was beyond a “serious issue”. You really think you can control this things?

Dr. Glass: That thought exactly is what led to its failure. We can’t control them, all we can do is ask for their help.

Dr. Noah ███: Ask the skips for their “help”? What are you talking about?

Dr. Glass: I'm talking about Omega-7. There were abyssal differences between Iris and Able. She wanted to help, and participated by choice. Able was an unstable, unpredictable being, that we tried to control.

Director [REDACTED]: And didn’t we learn from those mistakes?

Dr. Glass: The MTF Alpha-9 project proposes a different approach. Its current protocol requires every subject involved to have proven loyalty to the Foundation, and extensive psychological evaluations.

Agent White: Now, we are not saying that 8842 should be part of that, just to have the option of counting with his help in this. He has stayed here willingly and has demonstrated to be effective in helping re-contain a Keter…

Dr. Stein: I must point out, that he wants these “kishin” anomalies destroyed, not contained.

Dr. Bright: Well, if there are so many of them, I say we keep some of them for research, and let the kid have fun with the rest!

Director [REDACTED]: And who said you’ll be taking him?

Agent White: Sir, we will be risking our agents to a threat we barely know. If the boy really has fought these things before, he could be of great help.

Director [REDACTED]: It just sounds too easy, and things are never that easy. I mean, there is a new, unknown threat and we just happen to have acquired a very cooperative skip that can fight them?

Dr. Stein: Maybe our luck is turning, for a change…

Chapter Text

“I hate it when these things look like freaking children,” said one of the guards.

“Well…” the tall, bald agent next to him replied. “Sometimes they look like that, because they actually are frickin’ children.”

Kid was waiting in the ample, gray room the guards had brought him to. Suddenly, a red haired man wearing a shiny medallion and a big smile opened the door; Kid knew he was Dr. Jack Bright, Personnel’s Director. It was dizzying to see his soul in a different body each time, not to mention the deep, terrible sensation of disorder that provoked in him the certainty that the soul and the body he was seeing did not belong to each other. It was especially disquieting when he found the same soul animating a simian body.

It was different to observing Dr. Crow: the human soul inside a golden retriever’s physical shape was confusing, but Kid could perceive that it truly was the man’s body, strangely transformed. Dr. Bright, on the other hand… the man wasn’t to blame for the nasty, horrifying thing that had happened to him, but Kid couldn’t stand being close to him for too long.

Behind him, came Dr. Stein, Agent White and a tall, bald man that Kid hadn’t seen before.

“8842,” said the smiling, red haired doctor. Kid avoided looking at him. “This is Max Lombardi, he commands MTF Delta-8.”

“Hello Kid. I’d rather call ya that, I’ve heard ya prefer it.”

The boy shrugged.

“Agent Lombardi and his team will be in charge of capturing the anomalies we’ve recently found, the ones you’ve called ‘kishin’,” Dr. Stein told him.

Kid thought that, better than capturing them, a more direct, lethal approach would be preferable. But these people wanted to learn as much as possible about these things and that was, after all, exactly the reason he decided to look for the Foundation in the first place.

“You have fought them before. We think you could come with us, and help us in this mission,” Agent White said.

The words surprised Kid. There were things he did not understand very well about the Foundation, but he thought they would not be taking a member of their carefully ordinated collection beyond their walls that easily, outside of exceptional occasions. He guessed this was one of those.

He looked at the men in front of him, and gave a quick glance at their souls, Dr. Stein’s powerful soul irradiated curiosity, just like Dr. Bright’s, but Kid tried not to look at that one. White’s vibrated with something akin to hope, and finally, Kid looked into the soul of the man sitting in front him in that moment, Agent Lombardi. Behind the man’s big frame and stern face, there was a soul filled with fierce determination, a deep loyalty to those closest to him, and a special empathy for children. Kid thought the sight reminded him of someone else, and he felt his own soul constrict in pain.

“Whaddaya say, Kid?” Agent Lombardi asked.

Trying to hide any hint of his feelings, Kid answered:

“What do you want me to do?”

No less than 24 hours later, agent Max Lombardi and his team were heading to the place where Kid had pinpointed the location of a group of kishin. The team was divided in two vans with the logo Soaps and Care Products on the sides. Lombardi had read a heavily redacted version of SCP-8842’s experiments and interviews, but something there caught his attention more than any other fact: that the kid had lost his only family, apparently very recently. Anomalous or not, he was just a child, and he was grieving. Besides, no matter how willingly he had come to the Site, to be a skip in the Foundation was far from an easy experience.

He looked at the kid, sitting in front of him. The boy’s face betrayed no emotions, but Lombardi noticed the fidgeting fingers, his posture a bit too rigid.

“Kido, I’m sure yer stronger than all of us combined,” Lombardi said, “but the moment you need help, or find yerself overwhelmed, call us right there.”

The boy gave an almost imperceptible nod, but the agent could see his frame relax a bit.

“So, how do the docs treat ya?” Lombardi asked him.

Kid looked into his eyes, and the agent felt he was staring through him. Then he looked away and replied.

“Fine... I guess.”

“We all know how they are, they can be real pieces,” Lombardi told him. “If they're treatin’ you too badly, give us a word, Kido.”

 “Thank you…”

The space remained quiet until the vans stopped on their destination and the doors opened.

Chapter Text

Global Occult Coalition Casefiles

Excerpt from PHYSICS Division Threat Entity Database

Threat ID: KTE-1309 Blackwood

Authorized response level: 4 (Severe threat)

Description: According to information leaked from the Foundation, this creatures are former humans, suffering a transformation turning them beyond recognition, the cause of this is unknown, as it was not disclosed in the obtained files. Apparently, the process is irreversible, and the resulting creature is increased in size, enhanced in strength, and capable of great destruction.  

Rules of engagement: Objects are extremely hostile towards human beings. Lethal force must be applied as soon as possible, preferably by the use of high caliber weapons and explosives, as those have proven to be effective against similar parathreats.

Addendum: The Coalition must make it its priority to destroy this entities before the Foundation can capture them.

SCP Foundation

Mobile Task Force Delta-8, Radio Transmission

Lombardi: Agent White, what are the anomalies positions?

White: According to 8842, there are three behind the building, five inside the warehouse, and two outside, closer to our positions.

Lombardi: We’ll stick to the plan, contain a couple, take out the rest. White, send Kid behind the building.

White: Roger!

Lombardi: Remember. We’ll capture two, if possible three of’em. Team A will distract and separate those closer, team B and C, we will catch’em from the flanks.

Carter: Team A in position.

Lombardi: Team B?

López: We are ready.

Lombardi: Team C ready. Team A, proceed.

(…)

López: We’ve got it, don’t let it go.

White: Sir, unknown operatives approaching at five!

Lombardi: Who could..? Oh, wait, I can see’em!

Carter: Sir, they are the…

Lombardi: Goddamned Gocks!

Blackstar rushed to the place where the Foundation operatives were trying to restrain one of the KTEs, as it trashed and roared, caught in a metallic net, the agents not even resorting to their weapons when the creature managed to throw two of their operatives down with a powerful arm. The sight made his blood boil. He always hated to see how the Foundation cared more about its acquisitions, than about the lives of its own operatives. Just the same way they were ready to take dozens, if not hundreds, of human lives, only to experiment with a newly acquired monstrosity.

He and his team got there and shot the now immobilized monster with their machine guns, and Blackstar saw in relief how the creature vanished in dark smoke. He had heard the rumors. They would have taken the monster to one of their laboratories, and place a human being in its same room. Just to see how the thing killed.

Goddamned Skippers.

Global Occult Coalition

PHYSICS Division SB01-T, Radio Transmission

KL08: KTE-2 Neutralized

LU03: The Skippers still have one, they are retreating, Sid!

SB01: Ford! Go get it!

OF07: We are kind of busy here…

KL08: We can’t stop the KTEs, there are too many.

OF07: They are coming out of the warehouse, there are at least two more inside there!

BS10: KTE-3 Neutralized, I’m going in!

SB01: Wait Blackstar, don’t go alone!

SCP Foundation

Mobile Task Force Delta-8, Radio Transmission

Lombardi. Retreat, I repeat, retreat. The base will prepare the medical team.

Orange: Sir, but the mission…

Lombardi: The Gocks came to kill, let 'em deal with the rest. Where's Kid?

(…)

Lombardi: White, where's Kid?

White: …I can’t find him.

Carter: You don’t think the Gocks would…?

Lombardi: They totally would. Stay with me, White, we’ll find him. Carter and the rest, hurry and take the wounded back to Site 17.

Blackstar rushed inside the warehouse. There were three of them inside.

“PARTY IS OVER BASTARDS! THE GREAT BLACKSTAR IS HERE!”

He brought up the machine gun. The one closest to him used its claws to rip the weapon from his hands, and then broke it in two. The monsters curved its horrible mouths as they rushed against Blackstar. He fought with all the strength of his fists, but he was quickly sent crashing against a wall, dust and debris falling above him. Blackstar could hear the heavy steps and animalistic growls approaching slowly. He tried to get up, but pain erupted in all his body. He remembered the grenade on his belt. The creatures were approaching from different directions…

It would be risky, but he just had to wait until the three monsters were close enough to him, and then…

The face of Tsubaki came to his mind, reminding him of why they were fighting here. He was ready. Suddenly, the monsters rushed in completely different direction, as something else caught their attention, Blackstar heard again the sound of fighting, the monster’s horrifying roars.

Had his team arrived? Making an effort, he got up and looked at the scene.

There was a boy fighting the monsters. Without a weapon, only with his bare hands. On his uniform, Blackstar saw the unmistakable symbol of the Skippers, three arrows and two circles, in white over black. But there was something wrong, or rather, many things wrong with the boy. The glowing yellow eyes, the impossible strength of his arms, the way the shadows around him seemed to serve and obey him.

Blackstar had met magic users, or thaumaturges, who worked for the Coalition. They were unnerving, but still human. Or at least, still very human. But this boy…

He had heard about the Foundation using some of their… specimens as assets on their missions. Blackstar believed that to be mere rumors and myths, like so many things that surrounded that uncanny organization. Now, he had no doubts about it. This boy… no, this creature, it belonged to the darkness. It was an anomaly.

A parathreat.

But it was fighting against the KTEs, and winning. Blackstar closed his fists, it certainly didn’t mean it was on their side. Nor the Foundation, nor any of their pets, would ever be true allies of humanity. He was just witnessing a fight between two different types of monsters… and it was very clear which was the most dangerous.

One after another, the three monsters disappeared completely in vortexes of black smoke. As the yellow-eyed creature recovered its breath, Blackstar took the grenade and threw it at it.

“TAKE THAT, DEMON!” Blackstar didn’t have time to see the boy’s expression of utter confusion as he hurried to cover behind the closer wall.

The explosion was deafening.

As the dust settled, and Black Star rushed to see the results, he could see the very annoyed teen standing up again, small wounds on his face quickly closing.

“What do you think you are doing?” it asked.

“You are strong, fiend! TAKE THIS!”

Blackstar jumped towards the boy and threw his best punches and kicks, but with its speed the creature easily avoided every hit.

“Stop it! Would you… please, stop DOING THAT!”

“STAND STILL!” Blackstar roared.

Tired of dodging, the boy catched Blackstar's fist, and the blue-haired teen felt sudden pain on his whole arm. It felt like punching a wall.

“Who are you?” the yellow-eyed boy said.

“I am Agent Blackstar! Remember me, for I’ll be the one to surpass the gods!” yelled Blackstar as he threw another punch with his free fist, using all the strength he had left. The creature easily took advantage of the momentum to make Blackstar stumble and fall.

“Will you?” it said, almost smiling, now from above him. “I’ll be waiting, then”

Still recovering, Blackstar got up from the ground to continue the fight.

But the boy was gone.

As his team got down of the vans and into the base, Blackstar headed straight to his room, feeling more exhausted from this mission than from any he could remember. Before he could get inside, Kilik caught him.

“Blackstar! Sid wants to talk to you!”

The young agent walked down the corridor. As soon as Sid Barret saw the blue haired boy, he took him inside an empty office and asked him to sit down for a moment.

“Blackstar,” he finally said. “You are aware we have a tense, difficult, toxic relation with the SCP Foundation?”

“Yeah… I know,” Blackstar said. He did not like where this was going.

“They said you attacked one of their operatives. The higher-ups are trying to fix the mess right now.”

“I did sir, but in my defense, such operative wasn’t even human. It was a dangerous parathreat…”

“Did the operative attack you?” Sid asked.

“No, but-“

“Blackstar. How many times have we explained this? Never engage with Foundation agents directly!”

“With all due respect, sir, since when do we care more about the Foundation’s whines than about our mission?”

“Blackstar, please. This… first of all, this doesn’t mean that I don’t trust your ins...” Sid Barret started, but quickly interrupted himself. Who was he kidding? Of course he didn’t trust Blackstar’s “instincts”, the boy didn’t have any of those! And he wasn’t the kind of man to be untruthful. So, he tried a different approach. “Listen, let’s suppose you were wrong, and you harmed a human being.”

“Sir, there is no bigger proof that it wasn’t human, it survived an attack by ME!”

Sid exhaled. Blackstar was determined, strong and brave, but sometimes he felt really worried about the boy.

“Fine! We'll see this your way. You rushed against a completely unknown, dangerous being, unaware of its capabilities, much less its weaknesses, without any info on how to confront it. Do you realize what could have happened to you? Don’t you know how many good agents have we lost to such mistake?”

Only that seemed to leave Blackstar without an answer. Maybe not because of the reasons, but because of the reminder of how much Sid cared about him.

“I’m sorry to inform you this, Agent Blackstar. You have been demoted.”

“What?! Sid are you kidding me?!”

“It’s not just this time, Blackstar. The superiors are worried about your… recklessness.”

“No! Sid, this… this is stupid!”

“I’m sorry, Blackstar.”

Chapter Text

Soul waited in a bench. Around him, he could hear children laughing and dogs barking. It was still summer, and the sun was burning hot, a perfect excuse for wearing those dark sunglasses. He was thankful for a cool breeze that would blow any now and then, reminding him that autumn was getting closer with each day.

He needed to know if those dreams were real, those where he saw the girl he had met not so long ago. He had never experienced something like that before, but… what if she was some kind of telepath, or an astral traveler? Soul had already seen all kinds of marvels.

In the dream the night before, he told her to meet him right here in this park, this afternoon, at this hour. But as the minutes passed, he felt this was ridiculous. The dreams had to be just a fantasy, an elaborated and detailed scenario created by his mind, to fulfill the wish to see her again, because he had been too timid to ask for her number. She said she would be in their next theater presentation but, what if she decided he was really… not that interesting?

He exhaled and closed his eyes. He was sure of it now. It had been just his imagination. But he couldn’t bring himself to get up and leave the park.

A gentle shade covered him from the sun, and he opened his eyes to find a short, blonde girl in front of him, the same yellow sweater and miniskirt from the day at the exhibition.

“You came!”

She smiled, just like in their dreams.

The small cafe, with warm lamps and fairy lights, was almost empty. She was drinking a hot american coffee, as she talked in excitement about making her career in biology, and her summer job in some small laboratories.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” she said suddenly.

“To be honest, I thought I had imagined it all,” Soul said, blushing slightly. After a moment, he hushed his voice and said: “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure!”

“How old were you… when you found out?”

“Find out what?”

“That you are… or are not, normal”

She looked away and stuttered:

“I… I don’t remember… wh-what about you?”

“Me? I was six. It’s not a good memory…”

Soul was so fortunate nobody got hurt, but he still remembered the horror on the other children’s faces. Then everything that happened next, his parents leaving their jobs, his family not being able to stay in one place for too long since then, moving to houses each time smaller, so they would not find him. Living in fear, the money spent on buying the silence of strangers, all the opportunities his talented brother lost…

Yes, they were definitely better off without him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. He shivered as he remembered he still wasn’t sure what this girl could do, had she seen the memories crossing his mind?

“How do you do that?” Soul asked her.

“What?”

“Entering my dreams, are you a…telepath?”

“No, I’m not…” she answered, and then asked, suddenly very curious: “Do you know any telepaths?”

“Not really, but, I have no doubt they are out there, somewhere,” he said, as she giggled. “So, how do you do it?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she spoke softly, her face turning serious with reflection. “I’m still trying to understand all this.”

Not far from their table, another young pair shared a meal, in what had become their favorite cafe.

“And then they, they demoted me! To do paperwork!” the blue haired boy growled.

“I am sure this will be temporary,” Tsubaki replied.

“Of course it will! They’ll realize what they’re missing!”

She smiled at him. Blackstar was so lucky that Tsubaki’s stay in the city would be longer that she had originally planned. Then, he thought about the dangerous evils that were lurking out there. It would have been best for her if she had already left.

The Coalition did not explicitly prohibit romantic relationships for their agents, but advised against them. Not only because they were a distraction, but also because they could be used against them by their numerous enemies. Before, Blackstar thought avoiding a relation would be easy for him; he wasn’t interested in having a girlfriend. But he had never met someone like Tsubaki before, someone with whom he could be himself.

Blackstar knew it wouldn’t be fair for her. If he had to choose…

“Tsubaki, please, listen to me. I know you have a job to do here, but, as soon as you can, pack your things and leave this place.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are bad things happening, in this city.”

“I have been in dangerous places before, I am not afraid-”

“Tsubaki,” he said firmly. She didn’t know he could actually make his normally loud voice sound as hushed as he did next. “I can’t talk too much about it, but, there are very bad, dangerous things in here.”

Tsubaki looked around for a moment. Night was already falling, and the streets would soon be quite dark.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “I should go back to the hotel”

Blackstar and Tsubaki walked the lonely streets together, he had insisted in accompanying her back to her hotel. After a few blocks in silence, she spoke:

“Blackstar I think-”

“Shhh…” he said, stopping suddenly, grabbing her arm with one hand and taking one finger to his lips. He then pointed towards a dark alley.

Then she heard it. Heavy steps, and a screeching sound getting closer. Then silence again. The pair looked intently towards the dark alley for a couple seconds, when the sounds resumed. A monstrous face, with large teeth and hollow eyes appeared between the buildings.

“Tsubaki, run!”

They could hear the crashing steps of the kishin rushing behind them, its angry roars, the screeching sound the sharp-bladed arms that it dragged over the concrete. They doubled a corner and hid behind a trash container.

“Go. I’ll distract it,” Blackstar whispered.

“I’m not leaving you here!” she answered.

“Tsubaki…” he said, his expression hard and determined, as they heard the creature getting closer. “You deserve to know the truth. There are evil, antinatural things in this world. I’m an agent of a worldwide organization dedicated to destroy them.”

Blackstar felt his heart constrict at the way her eyes opened, the utter horror in her face.

“Please, trust me in this…”

“No, please no…” she sobbed, between breaths.

“I know it is too much to swallow, especially in a moment like this,” Blackstar said. The tears that were filling her eyes made his heart break, but he remained firm. “You must run, Tsubaki. I’ve fought this things before. I’ll be able to hold it for long enough.”

“Blackstar…” her tears started falling.

“Don’t worry about me. Go, don’t look back! As an agent of the Global Occult Coalition, it is my duty to keep you safe!”

After hearing that, she covered her face with her hand. Blackstar saw in relief when she finally got up and ran away. Before the monster could spot her, Blackstar jumped from behind the container.

“HEY UGLY!” he yelled.  

The creature rushed against him, and he barely managed to evade the hit, jumping to the side. A few moments later, he was stumbling. A sharp, sword like arm fell only centimeters from his head. He rolled on the ground, got up with a jump and ran into an alley, while yelling and taunting, to maintain the attention on himself. How much time could he get?

As much as he could.

He felt an energy building inside of him, strengthening his body, filling his fist with power. He turned around to face the monster.

But before he could react, it raised its metallic arm and Black star saw in slow motion how it entered through his body, lifted him off the ground and pinned him to a wall.

Through fuzzy vision, he could distinguish a familiar shape running towards them. Tsubaki was coming back, a large blade on her hand. He couldn’t believe it, emotions crashed inside of him.

Horror, because now she would die, too. Such happiness, because she had come back for him. Then, he felt that was such a selfish feeling, and a terrible guilt fell over him… he had to be the worst person ever to feel happy because she returned for him.

“Tsubaki.. run…” he tried to scream, but his voice barely crossed his lips.

The girl threw the blade at the monster, as a long chain came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around the creatures neck. Between flashes of light, Blackstar watched in amazement how Tsubaki wielded the chain, no… she was the chain…

There was no doubt about it. His mind had chosen to spend his final moments in a fantasy created in his imagination. He felt the monster dropping him, painfully extracting its blade from his body. His eyes closed as he didn’t have the minimal energy to keep them open anymore. Blackstar heard the monster’s roars cut suddenly, and then lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

Experiment Log H-D4213-A/1

Cross-SCP Testing for Anomaly KHN92-1, SCP Number Pending (“Kishin”)

The Foundation has acquired an exemplar of the anomalies temporarily denominated KHN92, specimen number 1, SCP number pending. Testing has been ordered, with clearance from O5 Command.

Item: D-class 4579.

Test Hypothesis:
According to information provided by SCP-8842, the anomaly feeds from the human beings’ souls, a quite mystical and questionable explanation. We expect a measurable increment on size, weight or strength after "feeding".

Test Results Record:
D-Class 4579 exposed to Anomaly-KHN92-1. D-Class 4579 quickly attacked and killed by specimen. There was apparently no increment on size, neither a change of aspect, but a weight measurement demonstrated an increment of ██ gr.

Notes: The specimen didn’t seem to eat anything from its victim’s body, could it really be the consumption of an invisible or intangible substance what explains the gained weight?

Item: One dead human body.

Test Hypothesis:
No increment on weight expected.

Test Results Record:
The dead body is taken inside the containment chamber and exposed to Anomaly-KHN92-1. The creature showed little interest, approaching the body, but quickly distracting. No increment in weight, as predicted.

Notes: KHN92-1 feeds on something intangible that is in a living human being, but is not there anymore when they die. Could it really be their “souls”? Something equally abstract, like their fear, somehow? Their life itself?

Item: D-Class 3576, previously exposed to SCP-963.

Test Hypothesis:
D-class 3576 resulted with brain death due to previous exposure to SCP-963. We expect no increase in KHN92-1’s weight after exposition.

Test Results Record:
The body of D-8641 is taken inside the containment chamber and exposed to KHN92. The body remains in a vegetative state, as all who have been subject to SCP-963. KHN92 shows vigorous and violent response attacking and killing D-8641. But there is no increase in KHN92-1’s weight.

Notes: I recommend evaluating the reach of these creatures’ senses. Their eyesight seems to be deficient, but it is possible that they have enhanced senses of smell or hearing, making them able to perceive the sounds of a heartbeat or breathing, given the quick and completely different reactions displayed.

Item: D-Class 8641, who was previously exposed to SCP-158, this had resulted in the extraction of a gaseous, luminous substance from his body, which was contained in a glass jar separately.

Test Hypothesis:
D-Class 3576 resulted with brain death due to previous exposure to SCP-158. No increase in QHN92-1’s weight expected after exposition, in a similar way to what occurred in the previous test.

Test Results Record:
The body of D-8641 is exposed to KHN92-1. Similarly to the D-class exposed to 963, the body of D-8641 remains in a vegetative state. Again, the response by KHN92-1 is vigorous and violent, resulting in the death of the D-class. No increment in weight.

Notes: This creature feeds on whatever is in the body of a living, conscious human, but not in that of a dead or brain dead individual…

Item: One jar with the substance previously extracted from D-8641, via SCP-158.

Test Hypothesis:
The consumption of the glass jar content will result in an increase of weight in the specimen.

Test Results Record:
KHN92-1 shows special interest in the item, managing to quickly break it, the substance became invisible after the jar is broken. We assumed it was consumed by KHN92-1. Increase in weight of ██ gr.

Notes: We have called SCP-158 the “soul-extractor”, but we never really understood what is it that it takes from bodies, nor how exactly it does it. Whether or not we believe there is such thing as the “soul”, we can now conclude that whatever SCP-158 extracts, and what feeds these “kishin” beings, is the same thing.

Item: SCP-6613-E and SCP 6613-P.

Test Hypothesis:
The damage inflicted by the “demon weapons” (SCP-6613: The Twin Guns) will be significantly more important than that of a conventional gun.

Test Results Record:
The specimen was restrained and exposed to the SCPs, SCP-6613-P used SCP-6613-E to shoot it, resulting in significant damage, as measured by [DATA EXPUNGED].

Notes: I suggest we provide anomaly KHN92-1 with its food source before trying any more experiments.

Item: SCP-8842, SCP-6613-E and SCP 6613-P.

Test Hypothesis:
Multiple experiments were carried during the past few days, with various D-class subjects and even some of the personnel trying and failing to wield and fire the Twin Guns. Dr. Glass has suggested that a pre-existent, emotional connection could be necessary to facilitate the process. As both sisters have spent most of their time in the installations near SCP-8842 and seem to trust him, a cross testing has been approved. We consider that the damage inflicted by the “Demon Weapons” (SCP-6613: The Twin Guns) while wielded by SCP-8842: “Kid”, will be significantly greater than that of the Demon Weapons alone.

Test Results Record:
The specimen was restrained and exposed to the SCPs. SCP-8842 insisted in wielding both weapons at the same time, managing to fire them. Unfortunately, despite having the instruction of shooting the anomaly only once, and then let the research team evaluate the damage, SCP-8842 disregarded this indication and continued shooting ██ times despite anomaly KHN92-1 being completely neutralized during the first seconds, sustaining significant damage to the containment structure.

Notes: Though regrettable, the loss of our only contained “kishin” specimen is a small price in exchange of what we have learnt today. The destructive capabilities displayed by this combination of SCPs were way above our expectations.

Addendum: Dr. Noah E███ requested a test of the effects of this attack on human beings.

Item: D-Class 2344, SCP-8842, SCP-6613-E and SCP 6613-P.

Test Hypothesis:
The damage inflicted by these SCPs combined in a human being will be significantly more important than that of two conventional guns.

Test Results Record:
D-Class 2344 exposed to the SCPs. Even after coercion and direct threats by Dr. Noah E███, SCP-8842 refused to execute orders and remained uncooperative. Suspension of experiment requested by Dr. Stein.

Notes: Complaints by Dr. Glass and Dr. Stein about the actions of Dr. Noah E███ submitted to the Site’s Committee. Dr. Noah E███ reprimanded by Director [REDACTED].

At the cafeteria, the Thompson sisters and Kid shared a small table.

“No one ever had been able to wield us before,” said Liz.

“It was awesome!” yelled Patty.

“They said it might be because we have been close the last couple of weeks, but… that had never worked before,” continued the older sister.

The younger sister turned and saw a blonde girl she had recently met enter the cafeteria.

“Cousin!” Patty exclaimed, and got up to run towards Iris Thompson, who called her back by her name, smiling widely. Anyone who didn’t know better, would have totally believed that the two blue eyed blondes were real cousins.

While her younger sister was distracted and Liz was alone with Kid, she decided to make him a question.

“Why didn’t you do it? Shoot that guy, I mean.”

He looked into her deep blue eyes, with that stare that made her feel he was looking right through her. Liz wouldn’t say the boy was her friend, but they had grown kind of close during the last couple of weeks. Despite that, it was still disquieting for her to see such a weird color in someone’s eyes, and his quiet stare made her feel nervous. Eyes like his were those of feral predators, of wild felines and birds of prey. But at the same time, the more he looked at her, the more she felt the color was so warm, like made of gold, or honey, or pollen…

“I will fight alongside these people against our common enemies,” he replied. “But I won’t harm someone just because they tell me to do it.”

Liz thought that carefully. Were those words because of pride? Deeply held convictions? Rigidity and stubbornness? True concern about others? She thought there might be a little of all that, and at the same time, she did not think that was all of it. The memory of when he had saved them before came to her mind. She had tried to think of many possible explanations, that he just wanted to please the Foundation, or that helping them had not been his true intention, merely attacking Vector. Or that his objective had been gaining their trust, to take advantage of them later. Even, that it all had somehow been part of an elaborated plan by their captors. But when she looked at him now, all those explanations felt beyond improbable. Unreal.

“Those people, they are condemned,” Liz reflected aloud. “They will be killed, anyway...”

“They were condemned by the humans’ law. I won’t be their executioner.”

He sometimes gave weird answers like that. Did he really think that way? Or was that his way to evade some questions? And now he had opened that book again. God, it had to be like the thousandth time he was re-reading it.

Liz exhaled and remembered her main worry now: her plan to escape seemed more and more difficult each day. None of the other skips, at least those she had spoken to, were that eager to escape, and she doubted she and her sister alone could do it by themselves.

But she was learning some interesting things, and if only this kid at least decided to help them, it would be enough for her.

Chapter Text

That cool morning, Maka hurried through the white hallways until she reached the laboratory she was looking for. Some specimens of the SCP-423 colony were brought to Site-17, for some classified cross-testings. She arrived to the room holding them exactly at their feeding time, as she had since long wanted to see the process. Four emerald green beetles were inside their acrylic cage, when the personnel opened the lid and placed inside a couple of documents specially written for them. Maka saw in amazement how the insects approached the sheets and started feeding on the grammatical and orthographical errors in the texts.

She reflected about the Foundation’s mission. Though her group prided itself on having the most scientific approach to the anomalous, their investigations often focused more in simply learning enough about something to keep it contained, rather than truly understanding it. Maybe because sometimes, it seemed to be an impossible feat. She thought that the people in her field, the biologists, might be striving in that aspect a little bit more than others did. The Microbiology team, for example, might be very close to an explanation about how SCP-353’s abilities functioned. However, Maka doubted they would ever understand anything about how something like SCP-217, the Clockwork Virus, worked. After all, there was a shorter distance when it came to relations between different biological species, than when it came the superposition of the inorganic and the organic.

But as she saw the beetles munching above misplaced letters, she thought the distance between organic and inorganic was nothing when compared with other notions: how could these insects feed on something abstract, like a “mistake”? Did they understand what they were doing? As she saw the creatures walking on the paper, she remembered her last conversation with Dr. Stein.

“Are we going to contain everything we don’t understand?” Dr. Stein asked her. Before she could answer him, he continued: “There is this extended misconception: some say that bees shouldn’t be able to fly, and claim it is an aerodynamic impossibility. These formulas tell us this thing shouldn’t happen, but it does. I would ask them: Who is wrong then? Your formulas or reality?”

“So… about anomalies, you think they are not such? That it’s simply that we don’t know enough to be able to explain them?” Maka asked him.

“Yes, and no. We might say that a fever is the normal manifestation of an infection, but we wouldn’t say it is normal to have a fever.”

Maka reflected about the metaphor for a moment, before asking him:

“Would you say, then, that abnormality is like a disease, something we have to cure?”

“No, that's not what I mean. However, about that, I think it depends more in the way the subjects themselves experience it. Just look at 507, I am sure that what happens to him has a perfectly logical, scientific explanation, just way beyond our comprehension, that is. But, we all know he would prefer not to be constantly going through that. “

“I think I get it. His travels are as extraneous to him as they are to us.”

“My point is,” finished Dr. Stein, “they belong to reality as much as everything else. So, what should we call anomalous, to begin with?”

People’s fantasies, hopes, fears, dreams, obsessions, mistakes… One perceives those abstract things with imagination and intelligence, rather than with the senses. But if Maka herself had a sense that could look at that all, at their vey souls…

The beetles had finished eating their “food”, and the couple of sheets of paper, now with perfectly corrected texts, were taken out of their cage. As she exited the lab and walked away, she thought about telling Dr. Stein about what had happened to her, tell him that she had communicated with someone in a dream. Tell him it had been with some random person, he didn’t need to know more details. But she knew he would question her further, until she would have to admit she had found another Demon Weapon.

Maka had decided that she could not tell anyone in the Foundation about Soul, not even Dr. Stein, because, what would they do with him? Or rather… what wouldn’t they?

If this had occurred differently, if she had not talked to Soul, and shared dreams with him and seen his light, maybe this would not worry her like this. For so long, that had been one of her most important purposes, hadn’t it? To find and study these mysterious beings. Now, she was not so sure about it all anymore.

Again, she felt she had no one to talk. Some days ago, she almost jumped when Dr. Glass asked her about her dreams, in order to facilitate interpretations, and she had to say she did not remember any of her last dreams. Maka could say Glass knew she was lying, but she also knew he would attribute the lie to a multitude of possible causes and not to any of the things she was truly hiding.

Maka thought of Kid. He seemed to know a lot about souls, and apparently, he already knew she shared one of his abilities. Maybe he knew what was happening to her, what exactly she was experiencing. But Maka still wasn’t sure if she could really trust him.

Today, in the afternoon, she would see Soul, as it was the last presentation of their group. Then they would leave the city, and Maka would not see him again. Except maybe, in their dreams.

Chapter Text

Blackstar could feel his head pounding as he woke up. He wondered where he was, as he opened his eyes slowly to see a beige ceiling above, with an old wooden fan hanging. The sheets covering him were kind of rough, and smelled too much of bleach. He turned his head slowly; saw the walls with geometric designs in shades of brown, and a pair of open suitcases in the bed next to him. He sat down on his bed, the movement made him dizzy. No one else was in the room.

Suddenly, the memories came back, the fight in the alley, the pain of the wounds, Tsubaki!

Tsubaki.

Slowly, he lifted his shirt, one that, he was sure, wasn’t the one he was wearing, and saw there was no scratch on his skin, not even a scar.

Just what was going on?

He approached the closed door of the room carefully. He could hear voices in the other side, one of them was almost a yell:

“-and now you made me heal a… a goddamned bookburner!”

“Kim please, listen to me-"

It was Tsubaki's voice, definitely...

“Are you sure he didn’t see you?”

“…not really, but-“

“But nothing! Even if he didn’t, how will you explain him there are no wounds in there?”

“I wasn’t going to let him die!”

“At least you should have told me the truth before, before… you know what? Forget it!”

Steps walking away.

“Kim, wait!”

“Just… leave me alone for some minutes, ok?” Then steps even further away. Then silence.

Blackstar retreated from the door, and sat on the bed, his head spinning.

Bookburner.

Who called them bookburners?

Was Tsubaki..?

What he thought he saw… had it all been real? Suddenly, some things she had said acquired a new sense. The people they protected, and those who wanted to harm them…

Tsubaki did not know what to do. She could be sure of it, he had seen what happened, he had seen her. But, this couldn’t be a mistake. Blackstar would not hurt her…

Would he..?

Had he hunted and killed someone like her before? She thought of all those she could not save. Was he among their killers?

But he was willing to sacrifice himself so she could live…

Would he still be as willing to protect her, now that he knew the truth?

Blackstar thought it all again, it had to be the exhaustion, the headache, because she could not be one of them, anomalies were dangerous and evil. They would not come back to save someone, much less an enemy.

He let himself fall above the bed and closed his eyes.

He thought of horrifying reports he had read and stories he had heard, he thought of brave people they had lost after missions went wrong. He remembered monsters he had fought before, a group of terrifying creatures that he and his team had defeated some months ago, he thought of a mission in the Red Sea, from which they had barely come out alive. He reminded himself of the threat that loomed now, of monsters with sharp blades and empty eye sockets, he thought of the boy with yellow eyes, he thought of Tsubaki…

The last couple of days, doing paperwork, he had organized dozens of reports, describing anomalies considered to be threats, too dangerous to be left alive, many times with little evidence, all targeted for elimination as soon as they could be found.

Could Tsubaki be on that list?

Tsubaki sighed. Maybe Kim was right, and it would be better if they just left now. The things that haunted this city were of that kind, impossible to reason with. Even L. S. and other Hand leaders understood that there were cases like this. Those beings were left to be taken care of by other groups. She and Kim had nothing more to do here.

Tsubaki came back into the room, careful of not making much noise. Blackstar was still in bed, his eyes closed. He had uncovered, and the morning was cool. She took the sheets and covered him with them. He would be fine. He would wake up, and leave this place, probably confused for a while. Probably wondering what happened to her. A part of her wished he could understand what had happened, and would choose to change his ways.

Maybe they would see each other again. Tsubaki could only hope that would never happen, as it would not be in friendly terms.

She closed both her suitcase and Kim’s, and turned her face to see him for the last time. She almost jumped when she realized he was awake, his eyes looking intently at hers

Chapter Text

Soul was nervous. He wouldn’t admit it, but he always felt like this before a presentation, though he had learnt to hide it with a cool demeanor. But today, he felt like he hadn’t in years. Could he control his expressions as he always did, if he faced the crowd and did not see her among the spectators? Or worse, if he did see her?

Maka arrived to the theater. It was very close to the park where she had met Soul. The place was small, only a few dozens of red seats, mostly occupied by then, even though it was still early. She found an empty seat and waited.

The lights above were on and the red curtains in front were closed. The sound of piano music started, and even though she couldn’t see, Maka knew immediately Soul was playing. A quick peek with her soul perception confirmed her suspicion. People around her were chatting and laughing, some very loudly, and she just wanted them to keep quiet and let her listen better to the music. Soon, the song finished, the lights went out, and everyone grew quiet. The curtains opened and the play begun.

There were two actors on the stage, the first scene consisted in a dialogue between two ancient, primordial beings: the titular entities Janus and Death, the god of Beginnings and the personification of the End, the Sower and the Reaper. The actress playing Death had her face painted in white, with black on her eyes and nose, and intricate, floral designs in red, matching her dark dress. Suddenly, the actor playing Janus turned around, and everyone could see a second face. Maka’s jaw dropped, no amount of makeup could do that. People around her didn’t seem as impressed as they should probably be. Maybe, she thought, they were all anomalous, too. Or maybe, they were simply convinced that it was all illusionism, and wouldn’t feel like her, who had already accepted the possibility of its reality.

Now, Maka thought she might tolerate surrealism in a painting, maybe even in a book, but in theater… she wasn’t much of a fan. After some minutes of a conversation about the entities' common domains, Maka only wanted both actors to cut their pseudo poetical ramblings and let Soul play again.

The next scene, Soul Evans appeared on the stage. Unlike before, here he looked smiling and confident. She wondered how much of it belonged to the character he was playing, and how much it was he being himself. Other characters appeared on the stage, in apparently disconnected scenes. Then, there was the representation of a murder. A woman was cut in half on the stage, so violently that a couple people among the spectators screamed. Maka did not know if the blood was real or fake anymore. Then, the same woman appeared in the next scene, in one complete piece, and shared the scenario with Soul. Maka realized she was the same actress who had played Death before.  She asked Soul to be her “weapon”…

It was then when he was surrounded by light, like hit by lightning. In the bluish aura, Maka recognized his very soul. The light faded, and in the place where the boy had been standing, there was now an enormous scythe, the actress holding him strongly, the blade zigzagged by black and red, like jagged teeth. Maka saw into a wide open red eye, before the curtains closed.

As the first half of show the ended, an intermission began. The lights came on, and Maka realized more people had arrived to the place, there were not enough seats and they were either sitting on the stairs or standing on the sides. Maka went to a small bar in the hallway, where a variety of candies and snacks were sold. In a reflection on the ornamental mirrors, she saw them.

Very close to her, there was agent Lombardi. Behind him, he recognized Carter and White. She quickly walked away from them, so they wouldnt see her.

Soul had told her his nightmare. And right now, it was very close to becoming true.

The Foundation was here.

In the backstage, Soul was preparing for their next scene, while some of the other actors were quickly changing clothes, when suddenly, a blonde girl appeared, stumbling over props and almost crashing in her hurry with a couple people transporting scenography.

“Soul!” she screamed.

“Maka!” answered him, a soft smile appearing on his face.

“What are you doing here?” said Mona, who had just finished applying her calavera makeup again.

“Please, Soul,” she exclaimed. “All of you! You need to leave!”

“What? …why?”

“They are here....” Maka explained.

“Who…?” they asked.

After taking a moment to recover her breath, Maka answered:

“…The Jailors.”

Souls eyes widened, while his friends paled.

“How do know that?” Mona asked her.

“I… I…” Maka started, trying to think quickly. “There are… these guys out there, I remember them, from when they… almost caught me.”

The lie made her voice tremble, but she hoped they would attribute that to the angst of the memory. Soul spoke again:

“We must-”

“We must not leave unfinished,” Mona interrupted him. “They will probably wait until it's over, anyway.”

“You can’t be serious,” Maka told her.

“The people will see the end of the play, then we will escape through the back.”

“You're coming with us” Soul said, placing a hand on Maka’s shoulder.

“What?” Maka said.

“What?!” Mona said.

“They will search the whole place, they might find you too," Soul explained. "We’ll meet in the back alley, and we’ll leave”

Reluctantly, Maka went back to her seat.

Whatever revealing end, whatever connection of mysteries was happening in the scenario, Maka did not understand. Her mind was too busy with catastrophic and fearful thoughts, so much, that she almost did not recognize the moment the lights were changing and a applause started, as the actors thanked. But at least, she had got an idea. As the curtains closed for the last time, she watched the agents directing towards the backstage. She got up and went straight towards them.

As his friends quickly climbed into their tangerine kombie, Soul hesitated.

“Let’s go, Soul!”

“Where is Maka?”

“I’m sure she found another way, let's go!” Mona urged him.

Suddenly, Soul turned away and ran back inside the theater.

“I’ll meet you all at Jackie’s!” he yelled.

“Soul, WAIT!”

“Agent Lombardi!” called Maka.

The agent and his team stopped right there.

“Albarn? What are ya doing here?” the tall man asked her.

“I… They… I...”

Maka had thought of many things she could say. That they went that other way, or that they hid underground, or maybe that she had seen them disappear through a portal, but she suddenly felt she could not find the words.

“Albarn..?”

Should have think this through better.

“They... I saw them… going to the front!”

She could only hope it would be enough to buy Soul a few more seconds.

Soul found Maka in the backstage. They had her!

He jumped and stood in front of her, covering her from the big men in front of her. One of his arms shifted into a blade, looking at the agents with menacing red eyes.

“Don’t touch her,” he growled.

Lombardi and the rest of the agents seemed more confused than anything at his arrival. After a few seconds of stunned silence, White suddenly laughed:

“Boy, she is with us!”

Soul slowly turned to look at Maka’s face, incredulous. All he found there was her guilt and pain, and he knew he was lost. Her emerald green eyes filling with tears were the last thing he saw before an electrical current reached him and everything went black.

Chapter Text

There was fear in her eyes, he realized with sadness. She was afraid of him.

“Tsubaki,” Blackstar told her, as she watched him with hesitation. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you, nor I will tell anyone about you. But before you go, there is something I want you to know.”

He paused for a moment after saying that. Taking a deep breath, he continued:

“My family, they were members of the Star Clan.”

Upon hearing this, Tsubaki’s eyes widened. She knew about the infamous Star Clan, and she believed it to be extinct. She didn’t say anything, and he spoke again:

“Yeah, guess you have heard about them. They practiced the dark arts, and used them against innocent people. When the Coalition came for them, I was a baby. One of the agents decided to spare me, and he was the one to raise me.”

Tsubaki listened in quiet amazement. The bookburners sparing a life? She almost couldn’t believe him. Almost.

“He always said the Coalition’s mission is to fight parathreats… not every single anomaly. I know many people in that place don’t really share his opinion. I didn’t. But now, that I know who you are, and you know who I am…”

Her friends used to tell Tsubaki that she was too naïve, that she always believed in others, and trusted too quickly.

“There are real monsters out there, but we’ve kept fighting not only against them, but also against each other, too. Just imagine, what could we accomplish, together?”

But could it be? Could they still be friends, even after realizing a truth like this?

“We would be unstoppable!”

Chapter Text

Liz took some popcorn and returned the bowl to Patty. Right now, both Thompson sisters were watching a movie with Iris and a strange, cyborg girl. Apparently, the short, blonde researcher who worked with the scientist of the screw, had vouched for them to be allowed more time to interact with the rest of the skips, even though both sisters were not considered to be in the “safe” category.

Liz concluded that those gestures weren’t out of authentic caring, but rather, the way some people had to keep convincing themselves they weren’t so bad. Despite that, a part of her was grateful. Her younger sister seemed to enjoy spending time with other people, more that she did, and didn’t seem to mind how weird her new friends were. After all, she hadn’t had many, any friends before.

They would be free again, someday. Until then…

“Elizabeth.”

She turned around to see who had called her and saw Kid.

“Excuse me,” Liz said, getting up.

“Do you want us to pause it?” Iris asked her.

“Don’t worry, keep watching.”

She walked to the door, where he was waiting.

“What is it?”

“Come with me. Just a minute, please.”

She raised an eyebrow, but decided to follow him.

He took her to a darker hallway. She noticed he had something on his hands. As he opened them, she saw a floating, luminous sphere, glowing a deep shade of red.

“What is it? How did you..?”

“If you eat this,” he explained, “it will make your weapon form more powerful.”

“What is that?”

He stared at her. Liz remembered Marshall’s words: You don’t need to know.

“It’s the kishin’s soul,” he said.

“The kishin? You mean, that monster from the other day?”

“Yes.”

“This is, its soul?!”

“I have more. If you eat them, you’ll become more powerful than you could imagine…”

She looked at the strange, shining orb. Something about it attracted her to it, to grab it and…

“If I eat that, will I become what they are?” she asked, with a shiver.

“No, of course not. They became that way because they devoured human souls. The inverse process can rectify that. Release the essence of those devoured…”

What was he talking about?

“Cleanse them…” he continued

Was he insane?

“You need to be stronger,” he said. “Because, there are worse things coming.”

Maybe she was. Her fingers reached to the orb and took it to her mouth.

Chapter Text

Soul woke up in a cot. Unlike what he had imagined, a room where he would be surrounded by endless darkness, this place was completely illuminated and white, with aseptic walls, a high white ceiling, a closed white door. Soul couldn’t help but think this was infinitely worse.

After what could have been a couple minutes, or several hours, the door opened, and tall man with brown skin and dark eyes watched him with a smirk. He was clad in a lab coat, with the symbol made of three arrows on it. Behind him, a bunch of armed guards, their faces covered by helmets.

“Prepare him,” said Dr. Noah. “We are taking him to the lab, now.”

Maka waited anxiously outside Dr. Stein’s office, pacing around and checking her watch every few minutes. He was meeting with a pair of directives. Only after their reunion ended, and the directives exited the office, she entered quickly and approached Dr. Stein.

“Doctor, where is he?”

“The Demon Scythe? He was assigned to Dr. Noah.”

Maka felt her blood run cold. That man knew no limits. She still remembered the vampire brought to the Site not so long ago. Dr. Noah performed all kind of terrible experiments on him, until he crossed the line and killed the creature. Some protested, but the fact that the Site’s Director back then, Dr. Kondraki, was no fan of vampires, did not help. Maka though the only thing that bothered the ex-director about the whole situation was that he did not get to terminate the vampire himself, like he had done with another some years ago, at Site-19. Dr. Noah was reprimanded, but no further action was taken.

“This can’t be! Doctor, Noah is… he is insane!”

“I know, Maka. I tried to convince the Director that I had some better qualifications and experience for this specific subject, but he seemed very interested in the experiments Dr. Noah is proposing.”

Maka did not want to imagine what kind of experiments that wicked mind had ideated. She couldn’t leave Soul on his hands. She turned around, trying to hide a falling tear from his superior.

“Maka… this isn’t just because you are that interested in the Demon Weapons, is it?”

She remembered he could see souls, too. How much of her feelings were visible for him? She decided there was no point in lying.

“No… it isn’t.”

Maka explained Stein about the way she had met Soul, the connection they had found, and why she had kept it all secret, even to him. There was some relief in knowing she wasn’t going to get D-Classed because of hiding all that.

Unfortunately, Dr. Stein stated he had no immediate way of helping Soul. He even suggested they should wait until Noah screwed up somehow, so his SCPs could be reassigned. Maka understood that letting Soul be free wasn’t even in question for Dr. Stein. That only made her feel more angered, it seemed that, for the Foundation and for those loyal to it, their unfortunate test subjects would never be anything more than that.

Was she really on her way to becoming one of them?

Was she already one of them?

After she left Stein’s office, Maka went straight to the Site’s Library, in search for another junior researcher:

“Hiro!”

“Hi Maka!” said the young blond, closing the book he was consulting. “What is-“

“I need a favor,” she interrupted him, in a hushed voice. “Please…”

Soul feel exhausted, and he was covered in cold sweat by the time the guards took him back into his room. But no matter how tired he felt, he could not sleep. As long as his eyes drifted closed, he would jump awake again.

He tried to convince himself that he could not be that scared, that it had not been as bad as it could have been. They had taken some blood samples and took him to what seemed to be an X-Ray machine. There had not been any dissections, at least not for now.

But the truth is, he was terrified. It wasn’t only the pain, it wasn’t only the way he had been strapped to a table as the pair of people in white coats worked, just like in his nightmares. It was also the way they talked as if he wasn’t even there.

He did not know which word had been worse, “specimen” or “item”…

Suddenly, the door opened again. Soul flinched and instinctively tried to cover himself with his arms. He saw it was Maka at the door. He looked at her warily. Was it now her turn to perform her own experiments?

“Soul, come with me,” she said. “I’m taking you out.”

Chapter Text

A bunch of papers rested on the small desk, some of them with intricate draws of butterflies and other insects, others with different types of pyramids, or more abstract, fractal designs. Kid carefully detailed every line on his last draw, from the perfect eyebrows to her smile, her long hair…

It was late, but he did not need much sleep, anyway.

He suddenly stopped dead, as a strange feeling assaulted him, the perception of a powerful presence…

Something frightful was attacking, very close, just by a couple of kilometers to this place. Taking dozens of souls, all of them devoured in seconds, he could feel their anguish, their horror as they were consumed. Then, it was gone.

The pencil broke on his hand. He could remember he had felt that same sensation before, not so long ago. The day they came and attacked the small town in the middle of the desert, where he and his father had lived peacefully. The day they released the horror that lied below, the one his father had striven for so long to maintain contained. They, who called themselves the Chaos Insurgency.

Someone had come with them that day. Someone who had felt like this, and that snatched people’s souls that quickly.

He took a new piece of paper and started writing a note.

Maka took Soul along the endless hallways, almost running, and taking sudden turns here and there.

“Where are… the guards?” Soul asked.

“They are busy. Fernand became agitated.”

“Who?”

SCP-082. They would never know that she, and some missing stimulants, had something to do with that.

“Doesn’t matter. They will be occupied for a while. But their substitutes will arrive soon, so we need to hurry.”

Soul looked at the black spheres on the ceiling, with intermittent red lights.

“The cameras..?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be in a loop for half an hour.”

They were silent for some minutes. She took Soul through a gate that led into a subterranean way, where plumber gray walls surrounded them, a faint light coming from long, blinking halogen lamps.

“Hey, Maka… Do your colleagues know what you can do?”

His question only met silence.

“They don’t?”

She looked away.

“Are you really that concerned about me… or are you just worried that I could tell them more about you? “

“Listen!” Maka stopped suddenly, her voice harsh. “I am risking everything to take you out.”

“I think it’s the less you could do now,” he replied, his expression cold.

She closed her eyes in resignation.

“Let’s go, Soul.”

Kid walked the long, empty hallways in penumbra, his eyesight allowing him to see as if it was plain day. Strangely, he did not find even one guard on his way.

He could sense it all, all that was wrong, the chaos around, all the disorder…

There were so many things his father never got to explain him.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, he still had to grow, develop and learn, and only then, he would inherit his father’s responsibilities. It was supposed to happen when he was ready, but it all happened before its time, way before, and so quickly. Now, he was feeling the crushing weight of and endless duty, one he would have to learn how to carry alone. And fast, or the world would be lost.

He wasn’t ready, he was so far from ready. His lines were not even complete yet.

When his father sealed his adversary, eight centuries ago, he bound himself to the same spot. Chaos, madness and disorder started to pullulate all around the world, while he remained unable to move, without enough power to balance things. But then, humanity fought back against those terrible forces. The ancestors of what was now the Foundation. Then, the 108 groups that would later unite to become the Global Occult Coalition.

They could help, that is why he sought them, on the first place. But they were only human, after all.

This thing he had felt, could devour dozens of souls in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t like the ones he had fought along with the Mobile Task Force, some days ago. The GOC’s arrival back then, with all of its ineptitude and defects, had been a fortunate accident. But even then, two people got wounded. This thing, it was way stronger than the ones encountered that day.

He considered going for the sisters, to take them with him, but if anything happened to them…

No… It would be better if he investigated what was happening alone, and stopped it if he could, on his own.

As he walked, he perceived a couple of souls directing to an exit, and started following them. One he could recognize, but the other he didn’t.

“Maka Albarn!” he called when he saw them.

The girl almost jumped, and turned around quickly, her face white. “Kid! What, what are you doing here?” she exclaimed, as he approached them.

Soul felt a shiver when he saw the boy, and took a couple of steps back from him. Maybe it was this place, putting his nerves in edge; or maybe the boy’s weird, glowing golden eyes, or the fact that he could see clearly the number 8842 on his black clothing. He knew the Jailors liked to assign a number to everything in their collection, and he had heard some of those things were truly horrifying.

“I’ve got something to do,” said Kid, calmly. “I left a note in my room, explaining it. What about you?”

“We… we are…” she started.

“You are leaving,” Kid completed.

“...yes.”

“Fine,” he simply said. Kid then looked at Soul. The white haired boy felt scrutinized under his gaze. “What’s your name?”

“I’m… Soul. You, are..?” he spoke, his voice a whisper.

“Kid. We can go together.”

“We? Wait, you will go outside?!” Maka exclaimed. Was he thinking sanely now? Enough to actually want to escape?

“Something big and dangerous is getting very close,” the boy replied, without stopping. “I have to investigate.”

“Wait, if it’s so dangerous, at least wait for the MTF! They could take you there,” tried Maka, hurrying to follow his pace, gripping Soul and dragging him behind her.

“They are not taking me anywhere, for now,” Kid explained. “Someone upstairs is now worried I will not follow commands.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Maka, “that is…”

“Very reasonable, actually,” Kid said, as they continued walking. He stared at Soul intently, until the boy felt uncomfortable, again.

“You are a Weapon,” Kid stated suddenly, to Soul’s surprise. Then he asked Maka: “Is he your Weapon?”

“What? What do you mean, my Weapon?”

“You two are very compatible,” he said, and then it was all silence again.

Maka made a mental note to ask him more about that later, as they should not distract right now. She used her card to open a heavy door into a subterranean way. Kid walked even more hurriedly, and Maka let him leave behind both her and Soul. This way was darker, and soon, they could barely see Kid’s shape ahead. When the distance between them and the yellow-eyed boy seemed to be long enough, Soul asked the girl in a hushed voice:

“Maka… what, what is he?”

The girl sighed. “We are not sure.”

“Did he know… how did he know what I am?”

Maka thought that, maybe, it was time to start being honest with Soul.

“Your soul looks different. Kid and I, we can see souls.”

Soul seemed surprised by a couple of seconds, but quickly huffed.

“And he is caged and you are not?”

“I am not ‘caged’!” Kid exclaimed from quite a distance, turning around, irritated. Soul almost stumbled, his eyes wide. There was no way he could have heard them from that far.

“Kid came here by choice,” Maka explained.

If possible, Soul’s eyes widened even more

“What?”

Maka ignored him and ran towards Kid, who had just stopped in front of another big, closed door. She used her card to open it into a parking lot. Both Maka and Soul came out, but Kid stayed in the threshold, hesitating.

“What’s wrong?" Maka asked him.

“Maybe I should go back… I should mention in the note that I’m going with you two, so they won’t worr-“

“No! You can’t!” Maka exclaimed. “You can’t tell anyone that I took you, or him, out.” Then, taking out some keys from her backpack, she said: “Now, I think you both fit in the trunk.”

Rob Roberts, the security guard at the guardhouse, next to the fenced door, was reading a magazine he had bought a couple days ago, about conspiracy theories and unexplained phenomena. Right now, he was focused in an article about strange monster sightings in nearby cities. It’s not like he believed most of that crap, but working alone at this time of night, the article was making him nervous.

It was Friday night, and most of the workers who had finished their turns in the large, white facility had left earlier, so he did not expect much movement.

He was not sure what exactly the people in this facility did, or if they belonged to the government, or if they were completely private. But he wasn’t paid to make questions. He was surprised to know some of his friends believed this place to be a soap factory. He was sure that, whatever this was, it wasn’t that.

A black car approached the fence. Rob saw a blond girl driving. She had to be one of those workers who stayed extra hours. Rob smiled and waved at her to stop.

“Good evening, Miss.”

“Good evening.”

“Credentials?” he said

She took them out and showed him, but before he pressed the button to open the steel doors, he said:

“Wait a second, Miss Albarn.”

He pulled a flashlight and directed it to the backseats.

Nothing was there.

“Sorry Miss Albarn, protocol.”

“Of course,” she said, with a smile.

Rob pressed the button and the doors opened slowly. The car crossed them and soon, it disappeared into the night.

Not even one minute later, red lights started blinking and his radio sprang to life.

“Roberts!”

“Roberts here.”

“Don’t let anyone out!”

Amogst the voices in the other line, Rob heard clearly:

“There’s been a breach!”

The black car stopped in a park. The same park, not far from the cafe, from the small theater. Maka got down and opened the trunk. Soul jumped out first, convinced that it had been his most uncomfortable trip ever; and he used to travel in a kombie with three other people. Kid came out after him, fixing his clothing.

It was past midnight, and the park was completely deserted.

“Are you sure your friends are still in the city?” Maka asked Soul.

“Of course! We wouldn’t leave someone behind,” Sul replied, looking offended for a second, but then his face softened. “Right now, they must be thinking of stupid plans to raid your workplace” He smiled as he said that, but Maka knew that smile wasn’t for her.

“Soul… Can I see it, for a last time?”

“See what?”

“Your Weapon form”

As soon as she said it, she felt she was asking for too much, but without saying a word, the bluish light shined again and his scythe form appeared. Without thinking, her hand reached out and caught the shaft. The weapon felt light in her grip, natural and familiar, like the moments they had shared in their dreams, before it all went to hell.

The contact lasted only a few seconds, before she let go of him. In another flash of light, the boy took his human form again. He seemed to be about to comment something, but quickly discarded the idea.

“Goodbye Maka,” he simply said.

“Goodbye, Soul.”

She watched him turn his back at her and walk amongst the trees, shadowed by the dark. When he got far enough, she did not fight to hold her sobs anymore.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned around to find Kid. He gazed into her eyes for some seconds, before looking at the direction in which Soul had disappeared. Maka vaguely thought she would have expected his hand to be cold, like ice or stone, but it was strangely warm. She cleaned her eyes on her sleeve.

“My father used to wield a Weapon like that,” Kid said.

 “A… scythe?”

“A demon scythe.”

Before she could express any of the questions her mind was coming up with, Kid made one of his own:

“Maka, do you know what your father’s name was?”

“His name was Spirit, Spirit Albarn… I never met him, what has that got to do with anything?”

“There is something you need to know.”

Whatever he was about to explain, she didn’t get to hear it, because the next moment, he abruptly took a couple steps away from her, looking around, with growing dread on his face.

“Kid, what..?”

“Do you feel that?”

Maka understood what he meant. She activated her Soul Perception, and saw at least one dozen souls approaching. These were a deep red, with a menacing crimson glow, quickly approaching them from different directions

“Yes… I do,” she said.

“We are surrounded.”

Chapter Text

Soul walked through the dark park. Jackie’s apartment wasn’t that close, but he knew well the way. He couldn’t wait to see his friends’ faces, and he smiled at the scene his imagination created. He still couldn’t believe it himself, he had heard of people, but never actually met anyone, that had escaped from a Foundation Site before.  

His thoughts inevitably went back to Maka. Soul sincerely hoped her colleagues wouldn’t find out about what she had done. The Jailors didn’t seem to be the kind of people that would take a treason very well.

But, why was he worrying about her, anyway? She most probably had planned everything for his capture…

Had she?

Then, why did Maka try to warn them? She could have told those people where they would meet, but she didn’t seem to be leading the agents towards them, but rather, stopping them…

Did she really meant for this to happen?

She didn’t seem to mind that much allowing the other boy to escape, either.

She worked for the Jailors, but… what if she was there against her will? Or simply, wasn’t really that convinced? She was anomalous too, what if she was scared to death of what could happen to her, and preferred to work from the inside?

He thought about that last moment they shared, just a few minutes ago, when she gripped him in his weapon form. He had never felt something like that. His friends, even Mona, they always found him too heavy, and could only keep him lifted for a short time. But Maka, she held him like he weighed nothing. He was sure Maka could actually wield him. Not that he wanted anyone getting hurt, but he always wondered what that would be like.

What if he never sees her again? What if she decided to never visit his dreams from now on?

If given the opportunity to explain things from her point of view… What would she have to say?

Soul realized he had stopped on his tracks. Jackie’s apartment was still a long way from here. If he left now, would he ever know?

Kid and Maka watched their surroundings. The monsters were quickly getting closer.

“You go, Maka, they are coming for me.”

“Will you be all right?!”

“Of course,” he said, but his voice didn’t convince Maka. She looked around, at the crimson souls approaching… it was then when she saw it…

Inside a small church, right front of the park, she could perceive a trembling soul. It seemed to be human. The fear and loneliness it irradiated pained her almost physically.

“Kid! There is someone trapped, inside that church!”

He looked in the direction she was pointing at.

“You go help them. I’ll fight the kishins.”

Maka nodded and ran as fast as she could. As soon as she placed her hands on the doors, they opened, a cold wind blew and she rushed inside the church. In front of the altar, she could distinguish a silhouette.

“You are in danger, please, come with me!” she yelled.

The figure turned around, Maka saw a pale face, framed by lilac hair. A teenager, who seemed to be younger than her, by a couple years at least.

“Hurry, we have to go!” urged Maka.

“Those doors… only open one way,” the strange child spoke.

“What?”

The soul she had seen before changed suddenly, like dropping a disguise. The fear and the pain, those were still there, but she realized there were two souls in front of her, two that seemed to be one, and bigger than what she had perceived before.

The child was mumbling, but Maka could not see anyone else in here. The second soul she had perceived felt like a weapon. Was it, somehow, inside that person?

Maka didn’t know in what moment a dark, horrifying creature sprouted from the child’s back, first as a tower of smoke. She could only watch in mute horror as the child screamed, visibly pained by the whole process. The thing took the shape of a monster made of darkness, with completely white eyes.

Maka took a few steps back, her mouth agape, as the giant creature shifted again into dark smoke, to finally take the form of a sword, that the teenager took with graceful hands.

“All I have to do, is kill you,” the monotone voice spoke, as gray eyes fixed on Maka. “That person said it, it’s what I have to do.”

Maka could barely jump back as the black sword suddenly hit the spot she was standing on. The teen slashed at her again as Maka jumped back one more time, stumbling, the sword crashing against the floor.

“Wait!” Maka yelled, trying to retreat again, but falling on her back.

Horrified, she saw the black sword raising above and tried to cover her head with her arms. The sword fell… and hit a scythe’s blade.

“Soul!” she cried, as she realized the boy's transformed arm stopped the sword. "What-?"

“Maka, wield me!” he said, his voice desperate.

“I can’t!”

“I know you can, we both felt it!”

She hesitated for a second, but finally nodded and he completed the transformation. Maka held the shaft firmly and pushed back the attacker.

“Why did you come back?” she mumbled.

“You helped me before, I’m returning the favor,” she heard Soul’s voice, somehow coming from within her mind. “Don’t distract!”

Their enemy hit again, and again. Maka used Soul to block every strike, to their opponent’s growing frustration. “Ragnarok,” the soft voice mumbled. “Scream resonance.”

A loud screech resonated inside the small church, the noise stunning both Maka and Soul. The teenager hit them again, stronger than before. Soul gasped in pain and Maka took a few steps back.

She realized, in horror, that the scythe was bleeding.

The monsters were showing up from every direction, there were more than he had ever fought. Kid had already vanquished a few, but there were still more coming. He used his shadows to push some away, as he used his hands to grab one and throw it against another. Before he could react, the biggest of the group slashed at him with a sword like arm and then kicked him to the ground.  

Kid’s body was incredibly resistant, but he wasn’t invincible. He knew he could die. He could feel pain, as well as fear. A part of his mind remembered, that it had been the whole purpose: the reason why he had been created this way, immature, and with only a fraction of his father’s true power. With the aspect of a human child, so he could live amongst humans and understand them. Learn from them, with them, what fear was.

Especially, the fear of death.

He incorporated nimbly, gripping the heavy monster by its foot, and he threw it against a fountain, strongly enough to destroy it. The fatal impact made the monster transform into a vortex of smoke, leaving behind a glowing crimson soul. Before Kid could recover his breath, two more kishins caught him from behind, while a third approached him fast, raising a hideous hand with long claws.

“YAHOOO!”

A blue haired boy launched himself against the rushing creature. He was wielding a chain scythe that caught the monster’s neck, and the boy used the pair of blades of his weapon to cut its head off.

“TAKE THAT, MONSTER!”

Kid recognized the the vigorous soul, even before seeing the boy’s face. He was the same from before, the agent from the Coalition.

There was a soul in the chain scythe. She was a demon weapon.

The kishins holding Kid growled at the new boy, loosening their grip on him. Kid took advantage of their distraction and grasping firmly one of the monstrous armed hands, he used it against the other creature, that howled and disappeared in smoke. Then, breaking the monster’s arm, he used it against itself.

Blackstar cut another creature in half. The last of the kishins.

“THE GREAT BLACKSTAR, AND THE AMAZING TSUBAKI, HAVE SAVED THE DAY!” he yelled. It was only then that he seemed to notice the yellow-eyed boy, just a few meters from him.

“YOU! I remember you! What are you doing here?!” Blackstar yelled, as he walked towards the other boy. “Where are your friends, huh?!”

“They are not my friends,” Kid answered calmly. “Where are yours?”

Blackstar’s jaw set in anger and he closed his fists on his Weapon.

“That’s none of your business, you-!”

“Blackstar, wait!” a feminine voice came from the chain, and in a flash of light, the Weapon took the shape of a tall woman with long black hair, standing next to the boy. She placed a hand on Blackstar’s shoulder, and the boy stopped. The young woman watched Kid warily, and he saw the unease in her eyes. He knew his aspect could be quite unnerving, and being covered in blood and wounds probably wasn’t helping.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice serene, her demeanor controlled, a stark contrast with Blackstar, who seemed ready to jump at him at any second.

Kid looked at her for a moment, but before he could give an answer, they all could hear a loud scream from within the nearby church.

“Maka!” Kid exclaimed, and ran in the direction of the sound, followed closely by the young pair.

Maka saw the blood in the metal. How was that possible?

“Soul!”

“I’m fine, Maka. Fight!”

She held the weapon down. Their opponent approached slowly, making the sword spin and raising it one more time.

“Maka!”

“It’s too strong, Soul!”

“You have to fight!” he exclaimed.

“It’s just going to hurt you!”

He had just had the worst experience in his life, all for trusting in her. She wouldn’t… couldn’t be the cause of more pain for him.

Their enemy’s sword was already in front of her, prepared to deliver a deadly strike.

“Maka!” Soul urged.

“I can’t!”

The sword fell. A gush of blood, and Maka screamed.

Chapter Text

Soul felt a rush of adrenaline, a sudden visceral impulse, a fierce instinct to protect his wielder from any possible harm. An unavoidable call. In a blink, he took his human form again, and used his body to cover Maka from the dark sword. He vaguely felt the slash, he saw in slow motion the burst of blood, staining his face, his clothes, and the floor. Distantly, he heard the girl’s scream.

He fell down. Blinking his red eyes slowly, fighting to maintain himself conscious, he saw Maka’s horrified face. Their enemy was watching them, expressionless, slowly raising the sword again.

Suddenly, the doors blew open. Maka tried to cover Soul, as Kid and a blue haired boy, rushed against the teenager wielding the dark sword.

Kid saw again that young face. The same he had seen before, the day they had destroyed everything, and all of his efforts had proven futile. He remembered the nonsensical words coming out of that mouth, in a wavering voice; he recognized the messy, asymmetrical hair… Above all that, he recalled the way they were devouring every soul around them. Kid’s wounds weren’t fully healed and he felt exhausted after the previous fights, but he felt suddenly fueled by the urge to set things right again, to release the unfortunate souls that didn’t belong to them.

Shadows like claws grasped and threw the teenager away from Maka and Soul.

“IT’S MINE!” yelled Blackstar, rushing against their opponent, who barely had time to cover as the chain scythe's blades clashed against the sword. After only a couple of moves, Blackstar managed to land a strike with his weapon. But something was very wrong…

“What the hell?!” exclaimed Blackstar.

“My blood… it’s black”

The boy watched in horror at the fluid leaking from the wound. Blackstar tried hitting with the blades again, but the, the uncanny, dark substance within his adversary’s body was hardening, making his attacks ineffective.

As the sword struck strong enough to make the boy stumble and fall, Kid charged against them, sending the lilac-haired teen crashing against the wall.

“This is too much, I… I can’t deal with this!” a desperate voice yelled, as a large pair of black wings sprouted from an arched back, and raising above the floor, they launched themselves through the rose window.

Both boys watched in frustration, as their enemy escaped flying.

“What was THAT?!” exclaimed Blackstar.

Kid turned to see Maka on the floor. In her arms, the white haired boy was barely consciou.

“We have no choice!” she cried. “Let’s go back to the Site! Bes will heal you!”

“Maka… please,” Soul mumbled, weakly. “Don’t take me back to that place.”

If Maka wasn’t already so shocked, she would have been more amazed of seeing the chain scythe turn into a woman, her gentle face with a sincere expression of concern.

“I know someone who can help!” said Tsubaki.

They ran into Maka’s car, the tall, black haired girl taking the front seat, to indicate Maka the way.

No one saw the witch, floating on a broom above the scene, with a smile on her face.

Tsubaki guided the group trough the motel’s hallways until she reached her room. While Kid and Blackstar carried Soul carefully, Maka tried to keep applying pressure over the wound.

“Kim! Kim, we need help!” Tsubaki yelled.

A bright pink-haired girl on a purple robe opened the door.

“What did you bring now, Tsubaki? A Jailor?” she asked.

“Does she know that you-”

“Shut up, Kid,” Maka cut him, with a hushed voice.

They took Soul to one of the beds.

“Now, I need you all to wait outside while I work…” Kim Diehl said.

“But-“

“ALL outside!”

“Ok… Who are you, people?”

“He is Blackstar-” Kid started.

“I am Blackstar, the greatest warrior you’ll ever met!” Blackstar exclaimed, then he looked at Kid. “I see you remember my name!”

“Thank you for helping us,” Maka said, “but…”

“You come from the Foundation, don’t you?” Tsubaki interrupted, looking intently at her.

“Sorry?” the blonde girl asked.

“What you said before, about going back to the Site…” observed Tsubaki.

“Maka helped us out of that place,” Kid interjected.

“Oh shut up! I know you work for them!” yelled Blackstar, pointing an accusing finger at Kid, “what are your true intentions, huh?”

“I could ask you the same,” said Kid coldy. “You are a member of the Coalition.”

“What?!” Maka exclaimed.

“Remember I told you some idiot threw a grenade at me?”

 “You did that?” Tsubaki asked Blackstar, as her eyes grew.

“I thought he was an enemy. About that, how can we be sure you are not?” Blackstar growled.

“Blackstar, wait,” Tsubaki told him.

“You are a… weapon, why are you with him?” Maka asked her.

“What do you mean?” the other girl asked back.

“I mean you are, anomalous-“

“Hey! Don’t call her like that!” Blackstar interrupted.

“You find something wrong with being ‘anomalous’?” Tsubaki asked him.

“That’s... that’s not what I meant,” the blue haired boy hurried to explain. “You are not like the others, Tsubaki. Even though you are with the Serpent’s Hand...”

“What?” Tsubaki gasped, shocked.

“I also wonder, how did you two end up together?” Kid asked.

“That’s none of your business, you freak!” Blackstar yelled, closing his fists.

“Don’t listen to him, Kid,” Maka said. “Gocks only know violence.”

“Look who’s talking…” Tsubaki mumbled.

“What?” Maka exclaimed, and she approached the taller girl. “We don’t go around killing innocents left and right, you know?”

“Oh, no?” Blackstar sneered. “How many human lives did your group take, just this week?”

Maka felt her face paling.

“Yeah, we know what ‘D-class’ means,” the blue haired boy continued.

“He's got a point…” Kid whispered.

“They are far from innocent!” Maka huffed.

“If that is going to be your excuse, then so are you,”  Tsubaki stated.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. Soul walked out, with difficulty, held up by Kim. Everyone around immediately grew silent.

“You know what…” Soul said, after a moment. “Maybe… it doesn’t matter that much where is it that we came from…”

“Soul…” said Maka. He looked at her.

“Maybe there is a reason we’ve found each other.”

The teenagers looked at each others’ faces. There was apprehension, mistrust and unease in each of them.

“And we better talk inside,” Soul continued, “or the whole hotel will learn everything about us!”

“Ok, maybe we could begin by introducing ourselves. You can call me Soul.”

There was a moment of silence, soon interrupted by a cacophony of voices and discussion, as the teenagers started pointing and yelling at each other at the same time.

“I DO NOT TRUST YOU!”

“And that affects me, how?”

 “Of course we are nothing like the GOC!”

“What did you mean ‘not like the others’? Most of us are people like you, we just want to go on with our lives, I thought you had finally understood!”

“SILENCE!”Kim yelled , and until all and each of them obeyed, she spoke again: “I propose, we take turns to speak and ask questions. No insults. No more yelling… Yeah! I’m looking at you.”

Blackstar glared at the girl, but finally kept quiet.

“Now, I think Soul has the right to speak first,” Kim finished.

Soul looked nervously at the strange group around him, everyone finally in silence, all eyes on him. There were many things he wanted to ask Maka, about her motives for working with the Jailors, and about her decision of setting him free… but he would prefer a more private environment to talk that. He looked at Kid, and made the question he had not dared to ask before.

“How could you have gone willingly to the Foundation?”

Everyone around turned to see the boy. All of them, except for Maka, wearing quite shocked expressions. His yellow eyes looked at the floor, and he exhaled softly in resignation before facing the group.

“First of all… you can call me Kid.”

Maka listened as he explained more or less the same things he had already told the Foundation. That there was something coming, a being that was centuries old and immensely powerful. He added a new detail, he mentioned that the Chaos Insurgency had released him. Maka noticed, nevertheless, that he did not tell this group, that such being was “like him”.

“His madness strengthens the Kishins, human beings corrupted after devouring innocent souls," Kid explained. "They become the creature’s you’ve seen.”

“Who are you, again?”

“Like I’ve told you. Call me Kid.”

“But, how do you know all this? And what are you, exactly?” Blackstar asked, with suspicion.

“My duty is to maintain Order,” answered Kid.

“That's not an answer,” Soul observed.

“I believe the Chaos Insurgency's plan is to use him somehow," Kid continued, ignoring the questions. "But all this will cause is to have the world consumed by his madness.”

“So, this could bring us to an XK?” said Maka.

“A what?” asked Blackstar.

“An ‘End of the World’ scenario” she explained.

“End of the world?!” Tsubaki gasped.

“That's why I searched for the Foundation,” Kid stated.

“You think the Jail-, the Foundation can stop him?” Soul asked Kid.

“I’m not even sure if they can," the boy answered. "Truth is, I’m not exaggerating when I say that, to win the incoming battle, even the combined forces of the Foundation and the Coalition might not be enough. We will need all possible help.”

Maka reflected about his words. After a moment, she shared her thoughts:

“There have been times when the GOC and the SCP Foundation have joined forces against bigger treats. And even with the Church of the Broken God, too.” Maka then turned and saw Tsubaki. “But the Serpent’s Hand…”

“This thing you are saying, this scenario…” Tsubaki said, looking at the rest of the group. “This thing not only threatens "normalcy", but this world’s very existence, and everyone within it, anomalous or not”.

Kid nodded and spoke to her this time.

“Demon Weapons like you, made of soul, are the most powerful in existence. But you cannot be wielded by anyone. I think you have noticed that already.” Then he looked at both Maka and the Demon Scythe. “Maybe you are right, Soul, and it’s not a coincidence you’ve found each other, but a glimpse of Order within the Chaos.”

Blackstar and Tsubaki found each other's eyes. 

“We believe there are hundreds of Demon Weapons,” Maka said, as she looked at the strange pair. “All over the world, and for each of them, at least one person with the ability to wield them.”

“What you are saying is..?” Soul asked.

“We could find all these Weapons, and the people able to wield them…”  Blackstar raised his voice. “We could train them! And build the strongest army!”

“Even if you did,” Kim interjected, looking at Blackstar, “how could we be sure that the Bookburners won’t be secretly planning to wipe all out after using them?”

“Or that the Jailors aren’t building special cages for us…” Tsubaki said.

“It seems that we are having a pretty civilized conversation right now, doesn’t it?” Kid said.

Hundreds of kilometers away, a blonde witch descended the old stairs from the Chaos Insurgency lair, towards the dungeons. She thought of the group of teenagers she had seen tonight, then on how Crona had panicked and escaped, instead of carrying on with her orders, that coward!

It was a strange group, indeed. One of them, wearing a star tattoo, his face reminded her of Whitestar, the late leader of the extinct Star Clan. The Weapon he was carrying, seemed especially powerful, could she be a direct descendant of the original Weapons? The wounded white haired boy? Nothing to worry too much about, it seemed…

Then, that blond girl, who looked exactly like someone she had worked with in her old days at the SCP Foundation. She knew her colleague was a single mother. The witch tried to remember the daughter’s name, but it was long forgotten.

And then… that kid.

The woman opened a heavy door into a small, dark cell, and smiled down at the shackled man inside.

“Remember your dear godson?” she asked, mockingly.

The man in the cell kept quiet.

“Crona has just found him tonight!”

“And survived?” the man asked her.

Medusa only smiled, her snake eyes fixed on him.

“Crona is getting stronger each day. Soon, your beloved brat will be too weak for such power.”

“He is more powerful than you think…”

“He is no more than a figment, a mere fraction of what Asura has already destroyed.”

“He will stop you!”

“He and who else?” Medusa laughed. “The Foundation? They couldn’t stop me before, and certainly won’t now. The Coalition might have gotten my big sister, but… who do you think told them where to find her?”

“You will never win!” the man spat.

“We’ve already won,” Medusa smiled. “Your god is dead.”

The man lunged at her, but the restraints held him and the witch only laughed. She turned around, closing the door behind her, and left Spirit Albarn in the dark again.

Chapter Text

A tangerine kombi remained hidden in a subterranean parking lot. Several floors above, there was a celebration for Soul’s return in the apartment of Jackie O’Lantern, local friend of the group of an-artists.

“Are you sure the Jailors didn’t mess with your head, somehow?” Vincent asked him.

“I swear it! That’s how it all went…” Soul insisted.

“So, Soul… you expect us to believe that you escaped from the Foundation, then you had an epic battle, then you were wounded and almost died, then you were magically healed,” summed up Turner. “And after all that, you spent the last couple hours discussing the possible end of the world… with Serpent’s Hand and GOC members!?”

“Not to mention that Jailor girl,” Mona mumbled.

“It’s official. You are the coolest among us.”

“I still can’t believe they all could even sit in the same room without, you know, murdering each other,” considered Vincent. “And now they're planning to form some kind of team, and work together?”

“And that is not the most unbelievable part…” said Soul.

“And that would be?” his friend asked.

“I’m considering joining.”

Blackstar arrived early to the Global Occult Coalition installations that Saturday morning, the air was still cool. He was certainly tired after a night without sleep, with a wild battle, a meeting of suspicious new people, and the prospect of the world ending. But it was not as if those things were too much for him!

As he entered the gym, looking for Sid Barret, his fellow agents Kilik Lung and Ox Ford called him.

“Where have you been, man?!” Kilik greeted him.

“Yeah, you finish that paperwork and disappear!” Ford said.

“I’ve been training, of course!” the blue haired boy exclaimed.

“Well, you should let us join you; we almost don’t see you anymore!” Kilik said.

“I’m sorry, guys but…” Blackstar started, but he suddenly saw Sid coming into the large room. “Wait a sec! SID!”

He ran and reached the man, who greeted him warmly.

“Blackstar, hi!”

“Sid! You’re the greatest expert with ninja weapons. I want you to teach me more!”

As the boy said this, he took out of his backpack a soft cloth, and he uncovered a short ninja blade, with a visibly sharp blade and a blue hilt adorned with a golden diamond pattern running down.

“It’s so beautiful!” Sid said, admiring the weapon. “Where did you get this..?”

Sid made a move towards the blade, but before he could touch it, Blackstar pulled it away from him.

“Sorry Sid, I…”

“It’s OK…” Sid said, surprised by the boy’s reaction. It was completely new to see Blackstar being that careful about something, and not really a bad thing. “Of course, I could teach you some moves.”

Half an hour later, both were in the outdoor training area. The weapon rested over the cloth, on the grass, next to a worn backpack, the blade glimmering in the sunshine, as Sid and Blackstar practiced with similar wooden models. Sid was admired, he hadn’t been sure about the consequences the demotion and the new responsibilities would have on Blackstar, but they seemed to have been very beneficial. He had never seen Blackstar this focused before.

“Sid,” the boy stopped suddenly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Blackstar.”

“What if we had to fight something bigger than ever? Something awful, something that could mean the very end of the world? Do you think that we could unite, well… with those that are anomalous?”

“You know we agree with that. There are countless thaumaturges within our ranks.”

“But if this thing was immensely powerful, would you agree to join, so to say… the forces of the Serpent’s Hand?”

Sid laughed.

“I don’t think that's possible, Blackstar. The Hand is a very dangerous group, not to mention they hate us!”

“But… do you hate them, as well?”

“The GOC is-“

“I know what the GOC says!" said the boy, "but I’m asking you.”

Sid exhaled, and he sat on the grass, his action followed by Blackstar.

“You know I think the Coalition is wrong about… well, many things. But I am also aware, if we don’t do this, the whole world is in danger.”

Blackstar listened, looking down at the weapon next to his backpack. Sid continued:

“We fight all kind of parathreats every day. But this is not because we hate them, but because there is something we love and are committed to protect.”

“Sid, if there was this bigger, worse thing coming… would you fight, not against them, but alongside them?”

Sid looked at the boy, meditating for a moment about the possible motives behind such questions, and finally replied:

“I would. But I don’t think the Coalition as a whole would.”

Kim Diehl crossed the Way into the Wanderer’s Library, her surroundings shifting as she walked, the morning sounds distorting into a calming silence. Her steps were strong and her expression focused, as she reflected about her worries.

She still wasn’t sure if they could trust that Blackstar, much less the rest of the odd group that had reunited in their hotel room. There was a reason she did not want to be close to other witches. They were all crazy. She did not want to be surrounded by crazy people.

Her wish was a reality, until that blue haired boy appeared. He was insane at best, and just about to betray them at worst. He was already lying to the GOC, what could they expect from him? And then, that red-eyed boy, the one she had just healed yesterday. He seemed nice, but he was a member of “Are we cool yet?”, and everybody knew just how demented those self-called “artists” are; ready to do everything and anything just for a little attention. The Jailor girl… now, they don’t call those the “Mad Scientists” for no reason. And the yellow-eyed boy that was with her, with the white stripes on his hair, he might as well be completely delusional, but everybody listened to him in some kind of rapture, believing everything he was saying.

And now, Tsubaki was getting into Bookburner Headquarters!

Yeah, they were all crazy. Probably she herself also was, just by having been right there amongst them.

But what if what the boy said was true, what if a terrible end was close? And if there were hundreds of people powerful enough to face such threat? Kim didn’t know, but decided that the Library was the first place to start investigating.

Dr. Frank N. Stein exited the Site’s medical wing with a new package of strong analgesics. He had already taken a dose some hours ago, but they were doing little for his headache. The feelings of unease and dizziness were exhausting, and he had only managed to sleep one or two hours last night. He entered one of the bathrooms, and washed his face.

He looked into the mirror. Another face looked back at him. A face that was his own, but not his own, with three red eyes, a portrait of horror, with impossibly large jaws opening slowly, ready to devour, about to take him whole, body and soul. Stein felt his his mind about to stumble and fall into a spiral of madness…

Suddenly, a calming presence released him from the nightmarish sensations. He blinked, his reflection on the mirror was the same as always.

He turned around; behind him, next to the door, he saw a short, dark skinned man.

“Are you ok, doc?” SCP-208 asked him, with sincere concern.

“Bes…” Stein said, surprised. He could perceive the gentle soul, irradiating peace like a bright sun. “Of course. I’m fine.”

A couple of hours later, in the emergency meeting that Saturday, Stein was still thinking about the terrifying episode. He tried to focus in the heated discussion in front of him, regarding last night’s breach.

“8842 will be back,” he said, on a firm voice that didn’t show his true mental state.

“Yeah, he wrote that on his note,” Dr. Jack Bright said, with a huff of laughter.

“Who leaves a note, anyway?” Agent White mumbled.

“So, now he thinks he can come and go as he pleases?” Dr. Noah asked. “That this place is some kind of hotel?”

“I’d give us three-stars, at least,” Bright commented.

“The point right now isn’t whether he’ll be back, it’s that he shouldn’t have left on the first place!” the Director almost shouted. “What were we all doing?”

“There was an emergency with Fernand,” Agent White explained, “it was then that Kid and Solomon Evans disappeared.”

“I’m going to tell you all what I think,” Dr. Noah spoke. “We have given 8842 too much freedom, but if he’s not trusting us, how can we trust him? How do we know he isn’t feeding classified information about us to hostile groups right now?”

“With all due respect, Doctor,” Agent White told him. “I don’t think he has given us reasons to-“

“Let’s limit ourselves to the facts,” the Director interrupted him. “We have two skips gone… what the hell happened?”

“We mustn’t discard the possibility of internal help,” Noah spoke again. “According to the guard Roberts, junior researcher Maka Albarn was the last person to leave the facility before the breach was reported.”

“She spent the whole evening with Hiro, you can ask him,” hurried to explain Dr. Stein.

“Oh, we will,” smirked Noah.

Maka had arrived early to the laboratory. She considered she should be exhausted because she hadn’t slept at all. Instead, she felt full of energy, maybe because of all the released adrenaline.

She could only hope that the surprise she had faked when Dr. Stein informed her about the breach had been credible enough. She was shocked, indeed, by the things she had gone through that night. She had perceived a hint of suspicion on his superior, but she calmed herself thinking that he might be able to see souls, but not read minds, at least as far as she knew.

Now, he was on that meeting. She still had some reports to complete in the laboratory and decided to take her time with them, while reflecting about it all.

Maka still didn’t know how to feel about the group they had met. That boy, Blackstar; Maka felt it on his soul and heard it on his voice: he was violent. The girls from the Serpent’s Hand had saved Soul, but she doubted they were that willing to extend their friendliness to someone like her. Speaking of Soul... what happened to him was completely her fault, she would totally understand if he never forgave her. Those things he said, about them all finding each other for a reason, might have been just in order to calm the discussion. But if they couldn’t be friends, could they at least be allies?

They all had agreed in maintaining the communication; after all, they wanted the world to keep on existing. But Maka wasn’t sure if this idea of a team could actually work.

Kid seemed to believe it was possible. That no matter the history and the differences, or maybe precisely because of them, they could all unite for their purposes. And maybe soon, also would each of their groups.

But he hadn’t told them the whole truth either. That the thing that was coming was like him. She remembered their last conversation, as they walked outside of the motel:

“I don’t trust this… them,” said Maka. “Especially not that Blackstar. All he wants is to destroy things!”

“There is a craving for destruction in every living being. All we can do is put it at the service of the best within us.”

They kept walking in silence until they reached Maka’s car.

“Will you go back to the Site?” she asked him.

“Of course.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“You still have things to learn. I will tell you more.”

“I noticed…”  Makapointed out “…that you’ve told the Foundation more that you have told them tonight.”

“Knowledge can be a heavy load. I don’t want to overwhelm them.”

“But, why…” she said, “why are you carrying with all this on your own?”

“I do as my father did before. He was the one keeping our enemy contained.”

“Who was your father?” Maka asked him. “Who are you, really?”

They stared at each other’s eyes, then souls.

“It will be better if we arrive to the Site separately,” the boy said.

“Of course…” she exhaled, resigned, and she opened her vehicle’s door.

“I still have to return to the park," Kid continued, "the souls left there, I have to retrieve them.”

“The souls, you mean, the souls of the kishins?”

He nodded.

“I see...” she said, hesitating before entering her car.

He spoke again before leaving:

“You will have answers, Maka Albarn.”

Hiro was on his assigned laboratory, putting results and folders in order, when Dr. Noah and his assistant, Gopher, entered.

“Hiro. I would like to ask you some questions,” said Noah.

“Of course, doc!” the blond boy answered.

“What where you and Maka Albarn doing yesterday’s evening?”

Hiro was surprised by the direct approach.

“Please, doctor! I am a discreet man!”

Noah smirked.

“Come with us, Hiro.”

“But I have to-“

Gopher, Dr. Noah’s assistant, gripped Hiro strongly by the arm.

“Change of plans. You are coming with us.”

They took him through the white hallways, to a room in the Euclid area. The door had the number 645. Noah pressed some buttons and as the door opened, Gopher brusquely threw Hiro inside.

“Do you know what this is?” Noah asked him, walking behind them.

Hiro looked at the large marble sculpture of a face on the other end of the room, and realized there was no point in lying.

“Yes… yes, I now.”

Noah’s assistant pulled the smaller young towards the SCP, and placed his hand on the marble face’s mouth.

“Now, I will be asking you some questions again," said Noah. "Two SCPs escaped, and I’m sure they got help-“

“I didn’t do it!” Hiro exclaimed, terrified.

“Do you have any idea who did?”

Hiro’s eyes opened with realization. Maka had asked him to cover her, to claim that they had spent the evening together. She had promised to explain it all later, and he had immediately accepted. His expression betrayed him before any sound could escape his mouth.

“You do, don’t you?” smiled Noah.

Hiro shut his lips. He could feel his accelerated heart, the beads of sweat forming on his face. Noah’s smile was full of cruelty.

“If you don’t answer, I swear you will lose more than a hand.”

The boy looked at the face of stone. Noah wasn’t lying.

“Please…” Hiro said. He could feel his extremities trembling, he had the sudden, terrible feeling that this man could hear his heart beating.

“I will rephrase this for you. Do you know where Maka Albarn was, last night?”

Hiro’s head was pounding, and his vision blurred.

“…no,” he managed to let out.

“What did you say?”

“I DON’T KNOW!” he finally exclaimed. “I don’t know where she was! Please, let me go!”

When Maka got out of the laboratory, she found Hiro waiting for her outside, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He looked terrible.

“Hiro? Hiro, what happened? Are you okay?”

“Maka… what did you do?”

A couple of guards were coming from the end of the hallway

“Maka Albarn," one of them said. "Dr. Noah wants to talk with you. Right now.”

Chapter Text

Maka was sitting in the interview room, in front of Dr. Noah and his despicable assistant. They were known for their intimidating, and sometimes physically aggressive ways, against both the SCPs and members of the personnel who had to be interrogated by them. The higher ups supposedly reprimanded him often, but the truth was that they rarely did anything more about it. Maybe because many times their tactics had been useful for the Foundation’s interests.

As she bit her tongue, she wondered what had they done to Hiro. Maka had never liked him, but she knew he always did what others told him to. She had just used him. He only wanted to help her, and now he must regret it so much…

Just what Soul must have felt, too.

The fear, the guilt, and both the physical and mental exhaustion were almost too much. As if the cameras and microphones in the room were not enough, Noah had placed a voice recorder on the desk. She knew it meant that he was sure he could take the truth from her, but she wouldn’t make it easy for him

“I’ve already told Dr. Stein tha-“

“That you were with Hiro. Well, now I know he wasn’t with you. So… where were you?” Noah asked her. “And why did you need to hide it?”

“I was working...”

“There is something very interesting, you know?” Noah uttered, “I could not find a recording of you walking to the exit yesterday, in none of the cameras…”

Maka felt her heart skip a beat, her hands starting to sweat. But such circumstance proved nothing, did it?

“Let me tell you what I think happened,” Noah continued. “You were so interested in studying the Demon Weapons, that when you saw that boy would not be at your charge, you decided he would be at no one’s.”

“Of course not!” she exclaimed.

“Of course not,” he almost laughed. “Then why did you do it?”

“I didn’t do it!”

“The other skip, he's your friend”

“He’s not…that’s not true! I have-“

“You have a tendency to attach to the SCPs at your charge,” Noah interrupted her. “I have noticed that.”

The girl felt how the anger was surpassing her fear. He continued: “Just like your mother did.”

“What do you think you know about her?!” Maka yelled, closing her fists in rage.

“I know more than you can imagine. Now tell me. What really happened, then?”

Maka looked at him at with defiance. She could feel his soul, cruel and full of greed, with an endless craving for power, in any form it could take… power over others, power to bend rules, authority and strength…

The door opened abruptly, and Dr. Stein stood there. The change was immediate, Maka could feel a new emotion taking over the tall man’s soul…

Fear. Noah was afraid of Stein. A part of Maka wondered if that was the reason why they had not done to her whatever they had done to Hiro.

“Stein, hi!” Noah said, and Maka had to credit the man, for such emotion didn’t show on his face at all “Maka Albarn here was about to tell us that-”

“Cut it, Noah. 8842 is back. He was just explaining us how he took the Weapon and left…” his eyes focused on Maka’s “…without any help.”

“Very well.” Noah got up of his chair and walked to the door, slowly. “Seems I’m done here, anyway.”

Gopher gave Maka an irked look before they left. But before Maka could exhale in relief, Stein spoke again:

“Maka, I need you in my office. Now”

Session 8842-G/18

[Redacted]

Dr. Glass: Kid, we need you to trust us, so the Foundation can trust you.

SCP 8842: …I do trust you.

Dr. Glass: Then, why did you go alone? Why didn’t you tell us about the group of kishins being that close?

SCP 8842: There wasn’t much you could have done.

Dr. Glass: We would have taken the necessary measures, like sending a Mobile Task Force, just as we did before.

SCP 8842: That would have only gotten more people hurt.

Dr. Glass:  I understand you don’t want more people in danger. But you risked yourself by going alone.

SCP 8842: I wasn’t alone… not really.

Dr. Glass: I think that you understand what I mean. You say you don’t want others in danger. Do you care less when it’s you in there?

SCP 8842: It’s different.

Dr. Glass: Why is it different?

SCP 8842: I’m hard to kill.

Dr. Glass: I know that, Kid. But why do you have to go alone?

SCP 8842: …It’s my responsibility.

Dr. Glass: Why?

SCP 8842: …

Dr. Glass: Why is it yours and no one else’s?

SCP 8842: …

Dr. Glass: Maybe it is our responsibility too, don’t you agree?

SCP 8842: You don’t have to be there.

Dr. Glass: Maybe that’s the choice some of us have made. I think you didn’t know this, Kid, but I’m a former field agent myself.

SCP 8842: …I didn’t know.

Dr. Glass: For what I have understood, you came here so we could help each other in facing this new threats. But, you are not really letting us help you. Why is that?

SCP 8842: That’s not true.

Dr. Glass: You went alone, and disregarded our rules.

SCP 8842: Your rules are cruel.

Dr. Glass: Well… with that, I can agree. But there is a reason behind each of them.

SCP 8842: Your rules would make me harm people at your wish. I will not follow such command.

Dr. Glass: I understand that you won’t do that.

SCP 8842: …

Dr. Glass: My point is, we could let you participate again with the MTF, but I need to know you will be able to work with them as a team…

[Redacted]

Even after spending the whole morning training with his protégée, Sid Barret wasn’t tired. After watching the boy leave the installations with the backpack on the shoulder, he returned to the building’s gym to take a quick shower. As the cold cascade rained over him, he remebered the day he had to use both his large frame and firm words to stop his fellows from harming the Star Clan’s youngest member.

He had joined the GOC to fight the forces of evil, not to murder children!

He accepted taking full responsibility of what would become of the small baby, he had taken care of him as he grew up, and he had taught him to fight and defend. He didn’t know if the boy saw him as a father, but for Sid, he was like a son.

The boy seemed to have an unstoppable energy within him, always running, jumping and screaming. Maybe the heritage of his family’s mystical power, that gave them their legendary strength and endurance, that was behind their access to the darkest arts and techniques, which were as difficult as they were dangerous.

The use of magic, the challenge of the natural law, could corrupt irreversibly the soul. As Sid closed the water and got out of the shower, he reflected about the boy’s questions. He wasn’t afraid Blackstar would betray the GOC, of course he was still loyal to it, he only hoped the boy would be careful enough not to share those doubts with the wrong people in here. He himself had had similar ideas before, after all, and Blackstar was in that age, of search of one’s own identity, of challenging old ways…

However, despite all that, he had the feeling, the voice of an instinct, that there was something bigger behind the boy’s words.

After the immediate interviews, Kid walked into the common area of Site 17, thinking about the last one, where he had talked with Dr. Glass. He noticed the souls of the individuals around him reacting to his return, some with disbelief, others with suspicion. He recognized the bright blue soul approaching him quickly.

“Kid!” Liz called him, and when she got close enough, she spoke in a hushed voice “The guards said that you had escaped, that you even took someone out, too. Is it true? What the hell happened?”

“Yes. There were kishins very close,” Kid explained, “I had to go to investigate.”

Liz could not believe they had just missed the perfect chance to escape.

“You went outside, and didn’t take us with you?!” she said, trying not to yell it.

“Would you be… willing to come with me?”

“Well, of course!” Liz answered.             

“I didn’t think you would, I mean, it’s dangerous…”

“We know it’s dangerous, but it’s better than being stuck in this awful place!”

For Liz and Patty, getting inside the Foundation really had proven to be their most difficult job ever, and getting out promised to be just the same.

“I actually thought about bringing you with me... If had known that is what you would have chosen,” Kid mumbled. He could not believe it, they did not mind the danger, and they would have gone with him by their own choice… “I will take you with me next time. I promise,” he said, with a smile.

Liz realized that it was the first time she was seeing him smile like that. She felt it made him look less like a strange, unsettling creature, and more like an actual kid.

“You will need what I brought for you,” he added. “And for Patty too.”

As Blackstar got far enough from the GOC’s installations, he hid in an alley and took the ninja blade out of his backpack. He watched how with a blue lightning, the weapon took the shape of his friend.

“You see, Tsubaki! We could tell him! We could tell Sid!”

“I’m still not sure…”

“You heard him! I’m sure he would understand!”

“Blackstar, I still think we should wait…”

“Sid has saved my life, more than once. I trust him completely.”

Tsubaki remembered that strange boy’s words. That they would need all the possible help.

“He could teach us so much…” Blackstar added.

All she had always wanted was peace.

And how to reach peace, without the bridges of trust?

Patty had spent the whole morning in a large room, used as a craft workshop. Her fingers were stained with yellow paint, and there was some of it on her face, too. She frowned, focused on her work. She was just finishing the model of a giraffe, made of paper and brightly colored, when her sister and Kid entered the room.

“KIDO! You’re back!” she said with a smile, and then added, with a pout. “Don’t leave us behind again!”

“I won’t,” he said, unable to hold back his smile. “I brought something for you.”

From his hands a series of floating spheres appeared, surrounding them in seconds, glowing a sinister red light.

“What are those things?” Patty asked.

“The kishins’ souls,” he explained.

“The monsters?” the younger sister asked, her blue eyes wide.

“Yes.”

Patty looked at both her sister and the boy, bewildered by the strange gift.

“What are we supposed to do with these things?” she asked.

“You have to eat them,” he said.

“What?!” the young blonde exclaimed.

“We can trust Kid with this, Patty,” her older sister told her, as she examinated closely one of the strange, glowing orbs.

“I’ve got enough for both of you to be even,” Kid said. “I have three more, but those belong to another girl.”

“Another girl, huh?” Liz said, trying to sound completely indifferent about that.

Maka waited, her hands still sweating as Dr. Stein closed the door of his office, and then took the remote to set off the microphones.

“So…” she said.

“So… 8842 said he needed a weapon to fight a group of Kishins, and that it was the reason why he took Solomon Evans out of containment,” explained Dr. Stein. “Unfortunately, he lost him before returning.”

“I can’t believe it!” exclaimed Maka.

“Well, they seemed to believe him. Funny thing is, I did not,” Stein said, and huffed. “You are lucky the Foundation is going to take his word for it.”

Maka felt her face turning white.

“Dr. Stein, I-”

“What you did was very risky!” he said, with a harsh tone.

Maka let her head down. Stein turned to open a cabinet in the wall, inside was a safebox. He typed a combination and the thick metallic door opened. He took out a small, leather diary.

“I should have known,” he uttered. “You are more similar to her than I had thought”

He placed the old diary in Maka’s hands. She opened it, and recognized the careful handwriting.

“Read it, then destroy it,” said Dr. Stein. “It’s secrets are too dangerous”

“Dr. Stein, this was..?”

“It was your mother’s”

Chapter Text

(The initial pages are missing, they seem to have been ripped)

…just as the old text described, because I used an antique astrolabe to do so. Of course, the constellations might have looked slightly different back then. That work alone took me weeks, but I can be sure now, the calculations are correct. They all pointed at the same location, in what is today the state of Nevada.

According to this old book, what lies in there is one of the Great Old Ones, ancient and immensely powerful cosmic entities, whose mere presence is so strong and overwhelming, that can cause men to go insane. The author even states that each of Them causes a unique and special form of madness. Some of the affected would be consumed by rage and hunger for destruction. Fear would fill and drown others, with terror of everything and everyone. And also, there are those that would find themselves settling in circles, each time smaller, of repeating thoughts, words, steps…

OCT 19

The desert extends a long way beyond our eyes can see. The sun is high up in the blue. There is not even one cloud in the sky.

This will be a beautiful night.

OCT 21

I have kept on traveling, in search of the place that came up in my latest investigations. This is completely unofficial, but the directives know I am on a desert expedition right know, and that it might be related to one of my investigation lines. No point in trying to hide some things from them.

I am sure that there is something very important in here, even if it is not exactly what that ancient book described, the eldritch powers and the Great Old Ones. I am still not sure about what will I find. Hopefully, some answers about what could have happened eight hundred years ago, and changed the world. Medusa thinks it is nothing, and that I should not waste my time trying to find out more. Of course, I did not tell her about this trip, not because she disdained my interest, but because I do not think I can fully trust her with some things. Hiding information from my co-investigator is against my professional ethics, but while we were working together during the last weeks, I started to think it is not safe prudent to share some things with her.

Spirit sits by my side and places his hand in my shoulder. I am so happy he’s decided to come with me, I don’t think I could do this alone.

OCT 23

We have the largest room in this hostal, it’s even got a small kitchen. As we prepared dinner together, I thought this was the closest thing to the life we will never have. At night, we sat in the balcony and looked at the stars. Their songs led us here, their pulsating lights reaching us through time and space.

I remember some thinkers in history have considered the stars to be living creatures: they are born, they have a metabolism and live for millions of years. Then, like every creature, they die, and from their remains, new stars are born. I tried to look at the sky with my Soul Perception, only to find it was too far.

“Do you think stars have souls?” I asked Spirit.

He smiled and said that joke: “Those are just the holes in the container, so we can breathe”. We laughed, but then, I couldn’t laugh anymore, because I found truly horrifying the idea of Spirit being contained, beyond concrete walls or iron bars, trapped behind a number. He noticed my change, and held me in his arms.

I imagined myself abandoning everything, escaping with Spirit, to a place the Foundation could not reach. If only there was such place!

I made a wish… that we could be together, forever like this. But the stars are too far to listen.

Maybe in another life, we could live free, here in the desert, our love growing where nothing else does.

OCT 24

Among the texts I consulted before, I found a document leaked from the Manna Charitable Foundation. It described an expedition to a small, rural settlement, far from civilization and almost isolated, in the middle of the Nevada desert. According to the text, their inhabitants used only rudimentary technology, as if they were stuck a couple centuries ago.

The report narrated that the people living there were suspicious of outsiders and rejected anything that the members of the Manna Charitable offered them. The text narrates that these enigmatic people worshiped a macabre, dark entity, but were too reclusive to share details with the visitors. I have reasons to believe that’s the place we are looking for, the location that the calculations I made pointed at. Considering the descriptions, it seems to be a proto-sarkic settlement. There is no information about any other community of that type in this continent, this one could be the very first found. It is said that proto-sarkites are not nearly as violent as the modern cult, but they are still known for their hostility.

Spirit says I must not fear, in the face of danger, he would protect me. I don’t doubt his abilities or the sharpness of his blades, but I have read terrifying reports involving the sarkicist cult: ritual cannibalism, deadly diseases, human sacrifices for their god, Yaldabaoth.

OCT 26

It’s difficult to sleep. I’ve blamed these changing temperatures, I can’t get used to; the deep thirst, always at midnight; the countless bad memories and every new fear, like the infinite sand...

During the day, we’ve been asking the local people we’ve met about legends and myths they could share with us. Even though some details differ, there are some stories with very similar central aspects, involving these lands. They tell a tale about two gods, keepers of balance, an equilibrium that was lost when the younger of them went mad and turned against the older. Though the older god vanquished the younger, the balance would never be the same again.

Some also say that the younger god wasn’t destroyed, only contained. Within his prison, he grows in anger and power. He will rise again at some point, and this time, the older one won’t be capable of stopping him.

At first, it sounded like the story of Mekhane and Yaldabaoth, but, even though the stories were superficially similar, there were important differences. The mekhanite story points out, as a central part of their dogma, that Mekhane was destroyed, or “broken”, in order to build the cage that contained Yaldabaoth. According to the legends we have heard here, the older god is still very present, but the victory against his adversary was at the expense of his own soul, and he is not as powerful as he once was.

Also, both the sarkites and mekanites highlight the important differences between their gods, practically opposites in their origins, domains and substance. The local legends, on the other hand, describe two very similar entities, like born from the very same essence. Some versions even state they were a father and his son.

OCT 27

Spirit told me he wouldn’t mind giving up his freedom, if that meant he could be closer to me, even behind a glass wall for the rest of his life.

I told him that’s madness, I would never take him back to that place!

To be separated isn’t the worst thing that can happen. I feel that even taking our lives isn’t the worst thing they could do.

They could make us forget about each other.  

OCT 28

Yesterday, we stayed in a very small inn, it only had a couple of rooms. As we were having coffee and Mexican style eggs for breakfast, a young man in a corner played the guitar, his fingers dancing over the strings, singing in Spanish:

“Creo en los fantasmas terribles, de algún extraño lugar…”

We talked with the owner of the place, a big man with bronze skin, a black mustache and deep brown eyes. He told us some people would come from time to time, from the far, isolated town they lived in. Most of them spoke bad English, and even worse Spanish.

“Some say they adore the Devil,” the man said, “I don’t believe that, but they’re creepy folk.”

The rest of the way from now on will be by foot. As we traveled the near terrains, we found a group of workers in a close field. They told us that mysterious people came every now and then, with their horses and small carts, to buy from them some supplies. They always left soon. They never talked much. All kind of superstitions surrounded them.

We asked them, where these people came from. They pointed at the north, there is a town in there, they said, over a hill. They are not sure what its name is.

They just call it “Ciudad de la Muerte”.

OCT 29

The small hill is visible, far in the distance. It’s too late to keep on walking for today, it will be dark very soon. I am exhausted, but I can see Spirt still has energy; he has walked the world his whole life, after all.

The two of us are so different, yet share so much. I learnt to love languages through books and tales from remote places; he, by traveling the continents, and through every new friend he made on his way.

We set our tent and prepared our blankets to sleep. The fire we managed to make is small, but enough to warm our canned dinner. Venus appeared in the horizon, and soon, in the clear night sky, we could see a thousand stars. The far howls reminded me of that old legend about the impossible love between a lonely wolf and a goddess…

They couldn’t be together. She belonged to the moon, and there, she had to return. He still calls for her, howling through every wolf, watching her far away home.

The air is cold now. Spirit and I entered our small refuge and I searched for his arms in the dark. He is always so warm.

OCT 30

It had taken us one full day of travel to see the hill on the distance and it took us almost another entire day to reach it. The town is small, and almost completely isolated. Outside from some resources brought from nearby towns, this place seems to be self-sufficient.

It was afternoon when we entered. People were watching us, and talking in a language I couldn’t recognize. Old houses of different shapes and sizes, some were made of adobe, others were like the English and like the Spanish colonial styles. Cacti and yellow-orange flowers grew on the sides of the streets, on the gardens, and on the windows.

We walked around this place, but there are no hostals. Seems that they really don’t like visitors. The streets and alleys zigzagged and recoiled, like within a maze. A labyrinth, without an Ariadne, is it there a monster on its center, too?

I know many of the sarkite’s symbols, but there was nothing like those around here. What we did see, a lot, were designs of skulls everywhere, some of them dark, some brightly colorful.  

As the night started to fall, an old lamplighter walked the streets, leaving the streetlights set to illuminate the night with their warm, golden light. Soon, the stone streets were empty, and I held Spirit’s arm. The big October moon had a red glow that reminded me of blood.

“Who are you?”

The voice came from behind us. There was a woman there, of short stature and light brown skin, of long black braids and a straw hat. I presented myself and Spirit, but before I could finish, the woman questioned again, with a heavy, unclear accent:

“What do you want?”

“We are antropologists…” I explained, the same story we had given before, “we are trying to learn more about your community.”

“How long?”

“How long, what?”

She did not answer, her eyes fixed on me.

“How long… will we stay?” I tried, and the woman nodded. “We are not sure yet.”

“Follow me.”

She took us to a small house and instructed us to go inside. As I imagined, there were no lightbulbs inside, only candles. She took us to a room, then brought us a pair of round breads, covered by sugar, two glasses of water and wool blankets. “Cold night”, were the only further words she shared with us. We thanked her, and decided to take turns to sleep, as we were still not sure if we could trust this woman.

OCT 31

This morning, I tried to communicate with the woman, whose name, I learnt, was Nierika. She only spoke very basic English. I tried some of the languages I had studied before, to no avail. But she did seem to understand some isolated words…

“What is the name of this place?” I asked.

“Morto Urbo,” she answered, I think.

I tried to ask her, carefully, about their religious system; unfortunately, we could not understand clearly enough each other.

“Yaldabaoth?” I tried.

No sign of understanding, not even the slightest spark of recognition. Every sarkite knows that name. Maybe this isn’t one of those cults, but something entirely differently…

NOV 1

Is there really an ancient holiness in this place? I am not sure what I was expecting to find. Some benevolent divinity that would answer all of my questions?  I tried to use soul perception, and discovered that I saw everything around here like from within a soft, golden mist, as gorgeous as it was strange. This had never happened to me before.

It was already dark. Spirit and I walked back to Nierika’s home. We don’t want to abuse her disposition, we will be leaving soon. I tried to look again with my soul. Again, that golden mist all around us, surrounding the city on its entirety.

I looked down below, under the city, under the hill…

NOV 1

There is something frightful in here.

NOV 2?

It’s 2 AM, I think. Right now, I feel I can’t trust, not even in my watch in this place. I’ve just had a nightmare that made me wake up with my heart in my throat, and covered in cold sweat. About this place, about the legends...

They are all true. There’s a horror down below, it’s fear itself, it’s the mad god, it’s trapped and angry, and its cage is about to break…

Now I made Spirit wake up too, he hugs me.

I feel this is going to drive me insane.

NOV 2

It was afternoon. The sun was about to set, and bathed the city with a crimson light. Spirit and I found that, close to the top of the hill, there are long ways carved in the rocks, like catacombs. We walked inside, toward the within. I had to deveal their secrets.

We entered a large, subterranean gallery, its ceiling high above us. There were torches in the walls, every few meters. Their light was scarce, insufficient. We walked the long way, towards old stairs that took us down to an ample room, with green and golden walls, with pointed vaults and tall columns. We crossed it and found that it led to another long gallery and more stairs. The rooms were almost the same, they only grew larger and the galleries grew longer the more we descended. I think their size is the whole hill, and even deeper below.

After walking for half an hour, or a couple of them, we entered to very large room, long way down. The enormous arches and high ceilings reminded me of a gothic church… but this felt way more ancient…

I had the sudden, terrifying certainty, that this structure stood here, silent and secret, since hundreds of thousands of years ago, before the first humans even arrived to the continent…

Who built this? What did?

“Maybe we should go back?” Spirit said as he stopped, but I kept on walking.

A sudden cold sensation made my whole body shiver. The torches blinked and the darkness around started shifting. I swear I could see the shadows take the shapes of skulls.

“What are you doing here?” a deep voice resonated.

We turned around. There was no one there.

“What are you looking for?” the same voice spoke again.  

I used my Soul Perception. Still no one there, still the golden mist all around.

Suddenly, with a blow of wind that made the lights dim, the shadows coalesced and a dark shape towered above us. In the penumbra, I could see it was vaguely humanoid, it wore what looked like a hooded robe that confused itself with the darkness around. Where its face should be, there was a white, jawless skull.

I was completely paralyzed, couldn’t even scream.

The being extended an arm towards us. It seemed to be made of shadows, and instead of fingers there were long, sharp claws.

Spirit jumped and placed himself between the entity and me, blades ready on his arms. I could see he was terrified, but ready to save me from whatever this thing was.

“Spirit…” my voice wavered.

“You are a Scythe…” the entity said, as its skull face tilted a bit to the side, seemingly unaffected by Spirit’s aggressive display. The voice was sonorous and reverberant, but not hostile. I could say it was almost gentle, as the being addressed us: “You two shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous for you.”

We both hesitated, shocked and at loss of words. The entity spoke again:

 “Follow me.”

***

We came out of the labyrinth of stone, into a large room. At least, I think it was a room, but it looked like the desert, extending all around… with a bright blue sky, even though I knew it should be late night already. Some meters in front of us, stood a tall mirror with skull decorations, where I could see our reflections. There were windows, up high, hanging midair; through their glass, I saw the dark sky from the (real?) world outside. But, was this any less real?

Where exactly this room was, I could not begin to understand. Old books I had read before in the Site’s library came to my memory, texts about eldritch locations and pocket dimensions, where space follows alien rules, where time passes differently.

Inside there, I could see the dark entity better, it he He was tall and his frame was irregular. Beyond the empty eye sockets of the skull mask, I could see a pulsating bright light, like a distant star.

I thought of the thing I had felt before, way down underground. The One in front of us wasn’t that, but was somehow similar…

I don’t remember who made the question, if Spirit or me:

“Who are you?”

“I have been given many names: Thanatos, Azrael, Mictlantecuhtli, Shinigami…”

All I could do, was stare in amazement at the Being in front of us.

“You are Death…” I said.

“I preside Death. And Order. And Change. It only makes sense that I am subject to their power, too.”

He told us many things, most of which we could not understand. He talked about cycles and renewal, about the enigma of the Absolute, about balance and extinction. About a younger god, that went mad, and against whom He had to fight. About endings, and new beginnings, too. About the successor, he would soon create…

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I am old now, and my time is about to end.”

“You are Death, and you are about to… die? How can that be?” Spirit questioned.

“It is the way it has always been. It will be the time for the next.”

He turned slowly, as if looking around, and I followed His gaze. Under the perpetual daylight of that endless desert, I could see countless tall, irregular crosses around us…

This has happened before, more times I could imagine. The end of being, and new beginning.

“This new one will be like… your new version?” Spirit tried to understand.

“No,” the Lord of Death said. “He will be different from me and from every other that came before.”

***

I don’t remember how our encounter ended, neither does Spirit. Suddenly, we woke up in Nierika’s home. We both knew it had all happened…. it was no dream.

When we came out of the small house, the town’s habitants smiled at us for the first time. We were participants of their secret, now.

NOV 4

I remembered something He said:

“You could stay here. I would welcome you, the three of you.”

The three of us… what did he mean by that?

(The diary ends here)

Chapter Text

Maka stormed into Stein's office. Before he could react, she took the small remote control from his desk and turned off the cameras inside, right before yelling:

“My father! He was a weapon! The Demon Scythe my mother found, she didn’t lose him! She kept him hidden! Why didn’t you tell me any of this?!”

A small part of her understood why he hadn’t showed her the diary before, maybe he was worried she would make a reckless decision. But all she could feel now, was that she had been betrayed…

“How could sh-,you hide this from me?!” Maka cried.

“I found this diary after she disappeared, I could never ask her more,” Stein explained calmly.

“But my father, where is he? Is he still alive?”

“I don’t know, Maka. I’m sorry”

“This city! He must be in there… We need to go!”

“I’m afraid that city doesn’t exist anymore…”

“What?! How..?!”

“There were reports of an attack by the Chaos Insurgency on a small, desert community, only a couple days before 88-, before Kid appeared,” Stein said, his face grim. “I believe that is the place he came from, and he might be the only survivor.”

It was as if Maka had just found her father, only to lose him again. She still had not met him, she had never met him, why did it feel like this?

If the boy came from that place…

“We need to ask him, we need to ask Kid!”

Suddenly, other things clicked. Her mother wrote there was something horrible under the city. The city that was destroyed. Kid said something was released…

“Dr. Stein… the thing, the thing under that city, which my mother wrote about?”

“I am sure that’s what the Chaos Insurgency was looking for, and what Kid is warning us about,” Dr. Stein said.

Maka felt the thoughts in her head running vertiginously. Kid said his father was the one keeping it contained.

“Dr. Stein, who… what is Kid?”

Stein took his hand to his head and turned his screw.

“I didn’t want to believe it before, but now… I am pretty sure of it…”

Maka felt a shiver as Stein concluded:

“Kid is Death.”

Chapter Text

Log of Anomalous Tools

“SCP-8842 has agreed to share more information; he narrated details about a group of anomalous objects, “tools”, created by the thaumaturge E████ , approximately eight centuries ago. These are powerful objects that could be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands, so the SCP Foundation must make it a priority to recover and contain each of them, before hostile forces can get them.”

–Dr. Frank N. Stein

1. BREW

Tool Description: This mechanical object has the appearance of a cubical, metallic box. Its exact function is unknown, but it is theorized that it could be related to a form of reality bending.

Notes: A vague location was provided by SCP-8842, in the ample region of [REDACTED], Alaska. According to the provided information, the object’s presence should cause a magnetic field accompanied by space/time distortions. A team of Foundation specialists have been tasked with searching for the described phenomenon in the area.

Status: Missing (see Notes).

2. Morality Manipulation Machine

Tool Description: The tool consisted of a mechanical chair, with an intricate wire system that would be connected to a subject. The claim was that this object could modify the inner perceptions of its victim, to the point of stripping them of any kind of ethical notion.

Notes: According to data leaked by the Global Occult Coalition, this item was found during their assault on [REDACTED], located in the Amazonian jungle, the hidden central base of the (now extinct) anomalous terrorist organization “Arachnophobia”. The reports state that the tool was destroyed, along with the obliteration of the entire building and the execution of their leader. 

Status: Neutralized.

3. Eternal Spring

Tool Description: This tool consists of two pieces: One has that shape of a large brass key; the second part is a large, metallic red box with a keyhole in which the key goes into. This box can be attached to different kinds of machines, effecting its anomalous properties: the machine in question acquires perpetual motion, and works infinitely.

Notes: This object was recovered ██ years ago, after the investigation and subsequent missions regarding the anomalous object STN30-A (“Runaway Express”) in the Sahara Desert. The described tool animated the vehicle, providing it with its anomalous properties. After it was dismantled, the tool was extracted, and it is currently located in Storage Wing-25, Site-██.

Status: Stored.

4. E████’s Key

Tool Description: Object has the appearance of a large brass key, similar to the one from the previously described tool, though slightly longer.

Notes: Given the last known location provided by SCP-8842, this tool was in Ukraine, more precisely, below the city of Sarcophagus. Approximately ██ years ago, the entire population of the city disappeared. Both the Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition sent teams to investigate, none of which came back.

The Foundation denominated the place SCP-████ and decided to place an in-situ containment, for which the construction of a concrete dome around the entire town started in ██/██/████. Before it was finished, a hostile group entered forcibly and managed to extract an anomalous item from the area. Apparently, the intruders were members of the Church of the Broken God, and took with them the anomalous tool now denominated E████’s Key, believing it to be another piece of their “fragmented” divinity.

Further explorations have failed to demonstrate the presence of anything anomalous still in the area, making SCP-████ to be considered neutralized.

Status: Missing.

Addendum: Information obtained from Foundation operatives within the Church of the Broken God suggest this anomalous tool might be located in [REDACTED], Russia, in a hidden temple dedicated to Mekhane, as the relic stored in that place matches the description of this tool.

Chapter Text

Maka entered her small bedroom in penumbra. How many hours had she spent without sleep, she could not remember. She did not even change into her pajamas, she did not even open the bed, she just crashed on it. Before she knew, she was already asleep.

She descended into the dream like towards the bottom of a quiet lake, surrounded by darkness, floating weightless without drowning. She sunk slowly with her eyes closed, and suddenly, her feet found a cold floor.

She stood, opened her eyes and saw the familiar red and black room.

Soul appeared, his white hair glimmering like silver as he came out from the shadows. As soon as he saw her, his face morphed into an expression of concern. Maka wondered if all of her feelings, all the newly discovered horrors and pains, were so overwhelming that were showing on her face, even in the dream.

“Maka… are you all right?” he asked her.

Or perhaps, her deepest feelings were simply impossible to hide in the dreamscape. Dr. Glass always said that dreams came from the bottom of the mind, the parts one is not even aware of oneself.

“Did they…” Soul’s face suddenly seemed so shocked. “Did they found out, about what you did? Are you hurt?”

“No, no, they didn’t caught me. They almost did, but..“

She interrupted herself. Dr. Noah had her where he wanted. But then Kid came back, and…

“Maka?” Soul asked her, worried at the prolonging silence.

She wanted to explain him everything that happened, what Dr. Stein told her, and then the diary and her mother and the truth about her father. Then, the secrets of the lost city, about what was below it, and about the boy that came from that place…

Should she think of him as “Kid”, or rather as-?

“What’s wrong?” the white haired boy asked her.

“Soul…” she said. It was as if the awaken state was the nightmare, and this dark dream, a respite from it. “Soul… why did you come back?”

“What?”

Maka looked into his sad eyes, and all she could think then was the image of the boy on the floor, covered in blood.

“Why did you come back and save me?” she asked him.

His red gaze looked into her green, tearful eyes. It surprised her how those bright crimson irises could irradiate such compassion.

“Maka… what I did was my choice.”

The music started the play in the old gramophone that decorated the room. It was both eerie and sweet. In that moment, Maka wanted to tell Soul everything. But it didn’t feel right to share some secrets that, she considered, belonged to someone else. Would she die in the spot if she revealed the yellow-eyed boy secret? She thought about his very words, about knowledge as a heavy weight.

However, there was one thing she could tell Soul, one thing she had to tell him.

“I have just found out that my father… he was a Weapon.”

“What?” Soul exclaimed. “A Weapon, like me?”

“Just like you,” she said, and her lips almost smiled. “He was a Scythe.”

“How did you find out?” Soul asked, his eyes wide.

“I found a diary that belonged to my mother,” she mumbled, as if speaking to herself. “I had already read many of her journals of investigations, but none in which she had even hinted… what was written in this one.”

Soul thought about that for a moment.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to look for him?” he asked her.

“I’m not sure where he is, the diary only tells where he was. A place that doesn’t exist anymore,” said Maka, closing her eyes, “I could use the Foundation’s resources to search for him, but it’s too risky… If he’s even still alive, the last thing I want to do is place on him the attention of the Foundation.”

The light in the room seemed to diminish, as both stood in silence, listening to the music playing. Soul took a couple of steps closer to her.

“Why are you working for them, for the Foundation?” he asked.

She evaded his eyes, a deep sadness showing in her face.

“The Foundation was all I had ever known,” she sighed, looking at the red and black floor. “My mother worked here, and her parents before her. I was 13 when she disappeared, and I committed myself to continue her investigations. But now…”

“But now… it’s different?”

“Now I think she found some truths, that needed to remain a secret.”

The Thompson sisters were taken by the guards to one of the interview rooms of Site 17. Inside were Dr. Stein, and Agents Lombardi and White.

“Please, take a seat,” the creepy doctor of the screw offered. Not as if they had much choice, anyway, Liz thought, as both obeyed. Dr. Stein continued:

“We have a deal to offer to you. SCP-8842 will be participating with the Mobile Task Force, again. He said you have agreed to become his weapons.”

“We agreed to… wait, what?” Liz said.

Patty’s eyes were wide open.

“The attacks of the anomalies we call ‘kishin’ have become more frequent and vicious. The truth is, after seeing what the three of you can accomplish when together…”

Kishin? Those big, nasty things? Liz did not heard much after that. What had Kid understood? She had never agreed to go out there and fight scary monsters! She only said that she needed help getting out…

Wait, was this part of some plan of his to help them escape? She tried to focus again in the words of the man in front of her.

“… so your combined abilities are crucial in this fight. Do you understand?”

“Yes. We understand,” she said, with the most firm voice she could make.

“Dr. Glass and his team will make some evaluations today, and if they agree, we are taking you out tomorrow.”

“Taken out?” Liz uttered.

“Where will we go?” Patty asked.

“We are going to do some cross testings,” Dr. Stein spoke.

“We’re going to practice,” Agent Lombardi said, at the same time.

“Well, you will practice, we will observe,” Dr. Stein explained.

“Max Lombardi is an expert on firearms,” Agent White interjected. “We know you are not conventional guns, but Kid wants to learn the basics of the technique.”

The sisters looked at each other.

“So the deal is..?” the older Thompson questioned.

“You participate with the MTF, help us in missions. From our part, the conditions of your containment will be vastly improved,” answered White.

We would still be prisoners, Liz thought, but not for too much longer.

Blackstar arrived to the GOC facility, the ninja blade safe on his backpack. He ran through the hallways towards one of the offices, where he found Sid Barret.

“Sid, please! I need to talk to you.”

Sid turned around and smiled as he saw Blackstar.

“So do I!” he said, warmly, as he stood and approached the boy. “Agent Blackstar, you’ve been promoted again. You might return to your work as a field agent!”

Sid was expecting to see the surprise on the boy’s face, but instead of enthusiastic, his expression was quite worried.

“What?” was all the boy said.

“Come on!” Sid exclaimed, trying to hide his disappointment at the boy’s unexpected reaction. “Don’t tell me you are not eager to try your new techniques on some nasty monsters!”

“Yes… Yes of course!” Blackstar said, and he smiled brightly. But Sid knew the boy, and realized there was something more behind it.

“Blackstar, I’m sorry. What did you want to tell me?”

“Oh it’s… nothing! I can tell you later! Need to go!” the boy said, turning around and reaching for the door. 

Sid saw Blackstar leave his office. He thought about it all for a minute. There was definitely something going on here. Maybe he was in trouble, or… preoccupied about something? He wouldn’t leave the boy abandoned to deal with everything by himself, he wasn’t alone and he should know that! He got up, decided to find the teenager and offer him all of his support in whatever he was going through. He just hoped Blackstar would trust him enough to tell him what was exactly happening. Hopefully, Sid could advise him, or at least give him a listening ear.

Ford and Kilik told him they had seen the young agent running to the exit. Sid quickly left the building and searched for Blackstar outside, protecting his eyes from the sun with his hand. He soon distinguished the spiky blue hair, far on the street. He hurried to follow the boy as he turned into a hidden alley, and was just about to call him, when he stopped suddenly, surprised of finding Blackstar talking alone.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he was saying, with a loud voice.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again.

“But what if they send me to take the life of someone who really isn't harming anyone?”

Sid saw he was talking to that blade, the one he had recently acquired. As he approached, he could have sworn he saw a face reflecting on the blade, with a pair of young, deep purple eyes.

“Blackstar?” Sid asked, as the boy turned around with a jump.

“Oh, Sid! Hi!” Blackstar exclaimed, smiling widely.

“Who were you talking to?”

“No one!” the boy rushed to answer.

The older agent looked back at the blade. The mysterious face had disappeared. Sid knew there were objects of darkness, dangerous for the mind, that could drive people insane, change their behaviors, and possess their souls…

“Where did you get that thing, again?” he asked, unable to dissimulate the suspicion in his voice.

Blackstar followed his gaze to the weapon.

“It was… Sid, I…”

“Maybe we should examine that-”

“NO!” the boy yelled.

“Blackstar. What is going on?” Sid asked, more firmly this time.

Before the boy could answer, a bright glow like a lightning surrounded the blade, as it escaped Blackstar’s hands and took the shape of a tall, dark-haired woman.

“Tsubaki!” Blackstar exclaimed, looking at the girl that had materialized by his side in a second.

“Blackstar, we had made the choice already,” she said softly, looking at the boy, and then turned her head to face Sid Barret, who watched them mouth agape. “My name is Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. I am a Weapon.”

Kim Diehl rested her head on the table, surrounded by stacks of books. It was her second day of research in the Wanderer’s Library. So far, she had found the Weapons were an experiment made hundreds of years ago by the witch Arachne Gorgon, apparently born from her attempt to raise an army against a powerful enemy. According to some books, Arachne’s experiments had never achieved her true goals, and the unfortunate subjects had escaped and scattered around the world.

There were not many details about the Weapons, but one book claimed that, even though the Spider Witch had been the first one to actually try the feat of manipulating human souls into becoming the weapons, she had based her investigations in designs and instructions crafted by even older, more mysterious intellects. The text referenced descriptions from the Book of Eibon.

Eibon. That name was familiar. If Kim was not wrong, he had been an ancient, powerful sorcerer.

She got up of the table and searched for the book, but could not find it in any of the shelves she explored. As she turned around a corner, she found one of the creatures they called the Librarians, a tall figure dressed in dark brown, the face hidden by a hood.

“Good evening,” Kim said respectfully. “I am looking for the volume called the Book of Eibon. Would you please, help me find it?”

The being nodded and turned around, disappearing into the shadows.

After a couple of minutes, Kim decided to go back to her table and wait there for an answer. She rested her head on her arms, over the table, and closed her eyes. She was not planning to fall asleep, but could not know how much time had passed when the Librarian suddenly appeared by her side and woke her up from a nightmare she couldn’t remember clearly, in which there was a being with three red eyes, observing her...

The Librarian brought no book. Instead, he placed a small piece of papyrus in Kim’s hands. She read the note:

“We are so sorry. We are afraid that book was stolen.”

“Impossible!” Kim exclaimed, making the readers on the closest tables turn to look at her, some of them glaring in anger, but she didn’t care.

She had never ever heard of someone who had stolen a book from the Wanderer’s Library. It was just not possible! Kim thought it would be easier to escape from the Jailors. Or to make a Bookburner change his mind…

But, it seemed that everything was possible.

Chapter Text

Trees surrounded the road, creating a canopy above it. Maka drove her black car, with Dr. Stein in the copilot seat. Behind them followed two white vans. She had waited for this opportunity to talk with him, without the constant vigilance of security cameras and recordings.

“So… Death, is one of these Great Old Ones?” she asked. “And so is the thing that is coming? Is that what he meant when he said it was like him?”

“Probably,” Stein replied. “But is not as if we know what exactly is that all supposed to mean.”

“The books, the texts my mother wrote about…”

“I couldn’t find any of the sources she claimed to have read. I guess most of it was destroyed by her, trying to protect both that place and your father from the Foundation.” After a moment of reflection, he added: “She suspected from Medusa, maybe it was also an attempt to keep the information from her.”

“You said before, that Medusa might be with the Chaos Insurgency now. You think she could be behind the attack on that city?”

“It could be. I think Medusa and your mother were both searching for the same thing, but for different purposes.”

Maka understood. Her mother’s mere objective was to discover and understand what was there, what had happened. She only wanted knowledge. Her colleague, on the other hand…

“Why didn’t you show me all this before?” Maka asked him, a bit upset.

“When I found and read that diary, I truly thought that these were all elaborate delusions,” he explained. “But now I know. The thing she wrote about is real, and it’s immensely powerful. I have felt it.”

“What, how?”

He recalled the overwhelming feeling, the horrifying vision of the creature with three red eyes...

“It was like a nightmare, but I was awake,” he said, his eyes fixed somewhere in the horizon. He did not tell Maka he had experienced such sensation at least three times now. “My theory is, that our ability to perceive souls make us more sensitive to their presence, as your mother seems to have gone through something similar...”

“She wrote they could drive people insane,” Maka remembered.

The scientist nodded slowly. “A Madness that could soon consume the whole world,” he said.

“Could that be the plan of the Insurgency?”

“I doubt that was their plan, I think this is escaping their control.”

Maka watched the tall trees that surrounded their way, many of them with their leaves already starting to change its color to the different shades of yellow and golden from autumn.

“And, what about… Death?” she asked. “Why his presence doesn’t affect us?”

Dr. Stein reflected for a moment.

“Maybe it does, and we cannot realize it...” he said.

Maka felt a sudden vertigo invading her at the idea. She tried to reduce the vehicle’s speed. After a moment, he added:

“He clearly doesn’t want the world to end. He does not trust us with everything, and I’m sure he has his own set of motivations. But the truth is, we will need all possible help.”

“That the same thing he told us,” Maka recalled. She had had many doubts before, but now, she could only think about how Dr. Stein had chosen not to tell the Foundation the truth about what she had done, about her mother’s diary, about what they had called SCP-8842.

However, telling Dr. Stein exactly what had happened just a couple of days before would imply not only trusting him, but choosing to trust them as well. She made up her mind and said it:

“Dr. Stein the truth is, when I took Soul and… Kid out, we were attacked by kishins. But we had help.”

Dr. Stein looked at her raising an eyebrow.

“A boy, an agent from the GOC, acting on his own. Fighting with another Demon Weapon. I tried to wield Soul, but only got him hurt and-“

“Wait, you met someone who could wield the weapon, and you managed to do it, too?” Stein asked, and she nodded. “You realize that, as little as we know about the Weapons, it seems to be extremely difficult to find a match?”

“I know, but it was… like we were connected, somehow,” Maka mumbled.

“You had told me before, that you managed to communicate with th-, with Solomon Evans through a dream.” Stein said. “That is interesting, and I have a hypothesis about this. I want you to observe Kid and the Twin Guns, with your Soul Perception today, and then I will tell you what I think.”

They were quiet for a minute. Maka wanted to tell him more. She finally decided to take the risk:

“That is not all,” she said, decided to trust him with everything. “When Soul got hurt, two girls from the Serpent’s Hand helped us. One of them was the weapon the GOC agent wielded.”

She perceived the disbelief in his face.

“Did they know he was a GOC agent?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

He remained quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.

“That boy and his Weapon, they told us they had met a couple of weeks ago, and knew each other, before realizing they were in opposing groups,” explained Maka.

“And when they found out?” Stein questioned.

“They chose to team up,” Maka said. “Dr. Stein, we think that we could… that we could unite against what is coming. Make a team.”

“Do you realize our objectives and the GOC’s differ?” Dr. Stein asked her, in a monotone. “Not to mention that the Serpent’s Hand isn’t known for cooperating with us. How are you planning to conciliate completely opposing worldviews?”

“We think this is beyond that. This will affect us all!”

“Also, our tactics and approaches are too different…”

“And that exactly will help us,” Maka said. “We can learn from each other. It’s like you said! We will need all possible help.”

Dr. Stein seemed tense. Maka realized how tightly she was gripping the steering wheel.

“Do you think it could work?” the man asked her.

“I do. And so does Kid,” she answered firmly.

Maka turned a bit to look carefully into Stein’s pale green eyes, and then beyond them. She saw that, more than trust or hope, his soul irradiated curiosity.

“I must admit,” he finally said. “It could open so many new… interesting possibilities.”

Liz was sleepy, she didn’t rest that well the night before. The interviews with that Dr. Glass had made her nervous. By the end, she was sure they would change their minds about taking them out.

However, as dawn came, the agents appeared and took them both with them. Now, she was traveling in a van, with half of team Delta-8. She knew her sister and Kid were in the other van, behind them, with the rest of the team.  She did not like the idea of being separated from Patty, even if the trip was not very long, but at least she was with Kid. She was certain now; she could trust him.

They came to a halt after almost an hour. As Liz got down from the van, she found herself in an enormous field, with lots of trees. Behind them, she saw a high red brick wall, with a wired fence on its top. A large black door was closing automatically behind the parked vehicles.

She saw Patty jumping down from the other van, and running to join her, followed closely by Kid. The group started to walk to an open area, a field of green grass extending widely, surrounded by trees.

“What is this place?” Liz asked.

“These terrains belong to Summer Cycling Park,” one of the agents explained. “We closed it a week ago.”

“We only open this park during summer, the rest of the year, we use it for training of the Mobile Task Forces,” added Agent White.

Well, it would be difficult to escape from here, Liz observed. There was no way they could get past that wall, much less surrounded by the entirety of Mobile Task Force Delta-8. Maybe, it would be better if they simply cooperated for now.  Maybe they would not escape today, probably neither tomorrow, but soon, they would be free again.

From the shade of some trees, Maka and Dr. Stein watched as members of the team placed some targets, made of different materials, from hay and wood to metal and stone. When they finished, they also walked towards the trees to observe the practice. Max Lombardi accompanied Kid. Maka remembered that since the moment she saw the boy first, she thought he was small for a sixteen year old, and next to the agent’s enormous frame, he looked even smaller.

She saw in fascination how the sisters leapt and transformed midair, falling into the boy’s hands in Weapon form. Even from the distance, she could hear the agent’s loud instructions.

“Yer holdin’em wrong!” Lombardi exclaimed. “This ain’t a movie, Kido!”

Maka noticed the boy was holding both pistols upside down. The agent yelled a bit more, but finally seemed to give up and let the kid do as he wanted. Maka activated her Soul Perception, and watched attentively the practice.

“There is a connection, is like they are synchronized,” Maka told Dr. Stein, as she saw the boy using the twin guns to destroy every target. She blinked, then squinted her eyes. “No… it’s more than that. There is trust, respect... a balance.”

Since the first time he had touched their weapon forms, Liz felt there was something very weird about this boy, something beyond his peculiar aspect and uncanny abilities. She tried to explain herself that she felt that way because he was practically a stranger, of course she would experience him as something unknown and enigmatic.

However, now that he was wielding them again, she became sure there was more about him. She could perceive something otherworldly and immensely powerful within him, a sensation that was only comparable with a dark, unfathomable ocean, of crashing giant waves under a storm. But instead of drowning her, its force was holding her up. Instead of frightening, that presence made her feel strangely comforted and safe. Like it was there to protect her.

“Well done, boy!” Max Lombardi exclaimed, as he gave Kid a pat on the back. “Those ‘kishin’ monsters won’t stand a chance next time we face ‘em!”

Liz almost gasped, the agent’s enthusiastic voice took her out from her reflections. If she were in her human form, she would be trembling now. It seemed that it would be difficult for them to escape before they were forced to face those terrifying creatures very closely. Her reflection appeared in the side of the gun, and she looked at her sister.

“He’s right! Defeating those monsters will be so easy!” exclaimed Patty, appearing in the other gun.

“I don’t think it would be that easy,” Liz said. “I mean, even bound, the thing we saw before was truly horryfing...”

“You ate its soul remember?” interjected Kid. Liz looked at him, surprised; she had forgotten that now he could hear them, too. He continued: “Also those from some others, that were bigger than that one. They should be afraid of you.”

Liz thought it was not her, who they should fear.

“It is… still very scary,” was all she said.

“I’ll be with you, Liz,” he said calmly. “I’ll be with you both.”

The practice was paused after a couple of hours. It was almost midday, the agents discussed while the sisters rested on the grass. Kid walked away from them all, toward the shade of the trees, and Maka followed him. There were no cameras, no hidden microphones in this place. Not that she knew of, at least.

“Maka,” he said, turning to face her.

“Kid!” she called, approaching him. Then she said, in a lower voice, “I need to tell you. I told Dr. Stein, about the team. He will help us.”

The boy smiled and looked towards the sisters. Maka followed his gaze and saw them briefly.

“You think they could join us, too?” she asked him.

“They’d be perfect.”

“Have you talked with them, about what you’ve told us?” she said, hushing more her voice.

“About the possible end of the world?” Kid asked back.

They looked again at both Thompsons sitting on the grass, drinking from their water bottles, just in time to see Liz suddenly jump.

“SPIDER!” she screamed, as the younger sister laughed.

“Maybe later,” the boy sighed.

They were quiet for a moment. The more Maka looked at him, the less believable everything felt, almost surreal. Maybe it was because of the bright sun, the near laughter, the blue sky and cool wind, or maybe because of the green field all around, but this day did not seem to be aware of who was present. Or maybe, it was just that some things were not as her imagination would have pictured them. Surely not this.

Definitely not him.

Liz saw Kid talking with that girl, the junior researcher. As she saw him being that close to her, she felt a pang of something, close to anger, close to sadness…

At first, she tried to think she was just angry. These people were their captors, not their friends! No matter what Kid believed, or how he might act sometimes, he was still their prisoner. Just like she was. He shouldn’t be there talking with that stupid girl, he should be here with…

No, it was not that. Kid was her friend, the first friend she had ever had.

Was he? Liz thought she was not so sure what of a friend was. She had not had space in her life for a friend before. The only person she had truly cared about was her little sister. It had always been the two of them, first abandoned, surviving on the streets, and then forced to work for Marshall. Back then, they could only trust in each other. The rest of the world, it was as if it really did not exist for Liz.

But, she was feeling different now. And, like many things, it scared her.

The fresh breeze agitated the branches of trees, making their shades dance over Maka and Kid.

“Eighteen years ago, my mother visited a remote city in the desert.” Maka said, suddenly. Kid looked at her after those words, his eyebrows raised. “A city that, we believe, was recently attacked by the Chaos Insurgency.”

He blinked and looked away. She could perceive on his distinct soul the pain at the still fresh memories.

“You are from that city, am I right?”

He closed his eyes, nodding. She steeled herself for her next words:

“I know who you are.”

His yellow eyes turned slowly towards her, his face expressionless.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

The tone was indifferent, but Maka could hear an almost imperceptible waver at the end. She diverted her gaze and thought for a moment before answering:

“We need fear to survive.”

He was still looking at her. At her soul, she realized. He kept the gaze for a few seconds before turning away.

“Who else knows?” he asked.

“Dr. Stein, he found out before me.”

Both looked at the doctor, far from them, speaking to agent Lombardi.

“I imagine it answered some of your questions,” Kid said in a monotone.

“It only brought up more…” Maka replied, sincerely.

Kid wouldn’t, couldn’t tell her everything, but if they were going to be allies, there were things she needed to be aware of.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

There were many things Maka wanted to learn, but there was one, first and above all:

“What do you know about Spirit Albarn?”

Chapter Text

Sitting in the dark, trapped in that minuscule cell, Spirit thought of the past.

He remembered that day, sixteen years ago, when he made his way through the long corridors of that antique house in penumbra. As he walked, he realized there had passed one year since the last time he had seen her. Since their relationship had met its end, and it all had been his fault. Spirit could have left the city, maybe he should have left, but he could not imagine himself anywhere else. Wherever he went, she would not be there.

Maybe he still harbored the hope that she would come back here, looking for him, bringing their daughter…

He reached the door and found it open. After pushing it softly, he crossed the threshold quietly. The Lord of Death was there, next to a small cradle.

Spirit steeled himself and walked straight towards Him. He had heard the explanation the Entity had given him, but could not entirely comprehend it. Maybe it was better that he did not. He only understood that the new creation would be born from a small piece, a fragment of His very soul. The successor would then grow and become stronger, as He would slowly lose his power.

The man reached the cradle and looked into it, not knowing what to expect, unable to imagine what he would find…

Among a bundle of black blankets, there was a baby.

Spirit squinted his eyes; the baby looked nothing like his Father. He seemed… pretty much alive, to begin with. Maybe the face was somewhat pale, or maybe that was just because of the contrast with the blackness of his hair. Spirit noticed a lock, strangely adorned with white marks. The baby opened a pair of golden eyes that glowed in the penumbra. He looked up at Spirit.

The man decided this was certainly weird, but not as weird as he thought it would be. He took his hand towards the baby, and the small creature grasped his fingers. Spirit realized that he was expecting the child’s skin to be dead cold, but he was surprised to find it was warm and soft.

“You are the first mortal he meets,” said the deep, reverberant voice of the Lord of Death.

Spirit smiled at the baby, and the little one smiled back at him.

“What is his name?” the man asked.

“He will bear all those I have had.”

They were silent for some minutes.

“Spirit,” the Lord of Death said solemnly. “I want you to be his godfather”

“What?” the man looked up, frowning in confusion. He saw again the enigmatic star, the distant, mysterious bright light beyond the hollow sockets of the skull mask.

“I can teach him all about the world of the souls,” the echoing voice said. “With you, he can learn about humanity.”

“Why… me?” Spirit asked. “I mean… I’m honored to be, but… why none of the other people, those who have been living here their whole lives?”

“Everything has changed while I have been attached to this place,” Lord Death answered. “You have traveled the world. You can tell him so much about it.”

“But… I think you, you must know that I am not…” Spirit said, his voice wavering, “…I am not, someone to be trusted…”

Spirit closed his eyes, as to his memory came the face of the woman he still loved, her eyes full of tears, her expression distorted by the hurt in her broken heart.

“I can see the dimensions of your pain,” said softly Lord Death. “Of your love. And your regrets.”

Spirit always found words like those very unnerving. He felt exposed, unable to hide, completely naked to the gaze of that Being, who spoke again:

“I would like you to accompany him to the places I can’t go to, and be there for him when I’m gone…”

Spirit looked down at the baby. He wondered what would it have been like, to hold another baby on his arms. The deep voice above him spoke again:

“You can protect him, I trust you.”

The sudden creaking of the door of his cell brought Spirit out of his thoughts and into his reality. Medusa Gorgon was next to the open door, wearing a white lab coat.

“Prepare him,” she told her guards. “We will be doing some new experiments.”

A few minutes later, Medusa and her team were strapping him to a table to begin the procedures, in their cold search for every bit of knowledge they could get. Spirit remembered the history of the Chaos Insurgency, as his beloved had told him, so long ago. They had been an SCP Foundation faction, one that went rogue decades ago. Frequently, Foundation scientists would end up abandoning that place and joining the Insurgency. That was the reason why, some of their strategies, mentality and no doubt, experiments, were very similar.

“Seems like we are ready to begin,” Medusa said, placing white gloves in her hands. She took a scalpel from a table and watched the restrained man with her snake eyes. “Unless, of course, you are willing to tell me more about the child…”

Spirit set his jaw and looked at her defiantly. She smiled, and took the instrument to his skin. Spirit tried not to think about the pain, as his mind focused in a newfound memory.

“Tell me about the pyramids!” the tiny kid asked him. He was five, or maybe six years old.

“Again?” Spirit said, with a smile. Little children enjoyed repetition. He narrated once again his adventures in the places he had visited, from Giza to Teotihuacán, as the boy started to draw a strange geometrical design, the lines perfectly straight. Spirit had observed since long that the kid would be so childlike in some moments, and so alien in others…

But Spirit had grown to love him. He thought about the daughter he had never met… and sighed. He couldn’t blame her mother. Not after what he had done. She had been willing to abandon the Foundation, and leave everything she had ever known behind, putting herself and also their daughter in great risk, just to come here and stay with him.

But he had broken her trust.

He wondered if all his efforts in taking care of this child were some way to prove himself that, despite everything, despite his many flaws, he could have been good for the little girl.

A child’s laughter made Spirit turn his head towards the window. Through the glass, he saw a bunch of kids running outside. How could he miss someone he never met? He looked again at the boy, drawing in front of him. Alone.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go out and play with other children?” Spirit asked him.

“They are afraid of me,” the child said, without diverting his gaze from his drawing.

“Why do you say that?” Spirit asked, worried. “Did they tell you that?”

“No, they say they are not,” the boy replied. He suddenly lifted his face and looked Spirit in the eyes, gazing straight into his soul with yellow eyes. “But I know they are. I can see it.”

Spirit eyes were closed, all his energies had left him, and he felt he was about to faint.

He could barely hear the voice of Medusa Gorgon, as she spat at one of her assistants:

“What! I can’t believe it, that coward…”

He could not hear what the assistant was replying.

“Then it won’t be leaving that room anytime soon,” Medusa said, harshly.

Spirit was careful of not opening his eyes.  

“At least the black blood is working as I planned,” Medusa continued. “The experiments have been a success. We need Crona to be strong enough to…” the witch was speaking as she exited the room, and Spirit could not hear the words that followed.

Apparently, they were talking about Crona, that strange teenager that had been present during the attack on the city, wielding the dark sword “Ragnarok”, and devouring the souls of those unfortunate enough to find them. Spirit remembered the dark blood coming out of the child’s wounds, how it would solidify to prevent further injuries and could even be used as a weapon itself, all of it apparently a result of the experiments of that cruel witch.

The teenager was certainly spooky, but Spirit could not help but feel pity at the idea of the poor young, suffering Medusa’s brutal experiments, since who knows how long.

The witch went back to the room suddenly, and Spirit could hear clearly her voice as she said:

“… but of course I would know that. I am Crona’s mother, after all.”

Spirit had to make a big effort not to gasp.

Medusa… was that teenager’s mother? She was experimenting on her own child? He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline, a vigorous rage returning the strength to his muscles. That horrible woman had tortured her own baby!

Spirit knew witches were bad news, but… How could any parent do such a vile thing?

He thought about his own daughter, his deep wish of meeting her someday. He thought of the boy, who was not his son, but that he cared for so much…

The boy…

Spirit opened his eyes slowly, and found the bright light above the dissection table.

Death’s “son” had been an experiment, too.

The Demon Scythe had seen the boy grow. He had noticed the child’s special sensitivity, and his tendency to tantrums when things were not the way he wanted, one that fortunately got better with age. He also observed his development of a weird interest for certain objects, and the way he was attracted by specific patterns. He wondered if that was normal, but… what did he know? What did normal mean, anyway?

This was not even abnormally normal.

Spirit had understood, Lord Death was not supposed to be a father. He never had one. He had had a Maker, but not a father. He had told Spirit once, that when the previous One was, he was not; and when he was, his Maker wasn’t anymore.

To create this next version, He had experimented, in more than one way.

The boy would be the first one that would have something akin to a father. He was unique also, in the fact that he had been created with the model of a human child, not only in body, but also in mind and soul…

But he wasn’t human, Spirit reminded himself.

He was what his Father was.

The guards took him back into the dark cell and again handcuffed him to the wall. He had realized since long the cuffs seemed to have some kind of spell that prevented him from transforming. Huddled on the cold floor, he tried to get some sleep, but his worries would not let him.

Since the witch had told him that they had found the boy, his fears had grown deeper. But she did not capture him, maybe he wasn’t alone?

Spirit hoped he wasn’t.

His body was exhausted, but his mind was accelerating, wondering about Medusa's true plans. He thought of the witch, not only experimenting on her own infant, but also sending the wretched young to danger and fight. A part of Spirit's mind whispered to him that it was not much different to what the boy's Father did.

Spirit closed his eyes as he shifted on the floor. He concluded there was no possible comparison. Spirit was certain that the Lord of Death truly cared about His son...

Did He?

Could He care? Or fear?

Spirit always felt He never seemed that worried about the child, or at least not as much as the red-haired man could be. He remembered how he was the most doubtful that day, the first time he was going to take the boy somewhere outside the limits of the city.

Maybe it was just that Spirit knew himself better, and could imagine the many things that could go wrong under his watch. Like it certainly happened.

Spirit was driving the old truck, while the child, eight years old now, looked through the window. The kid did not seem neither fearful nor especially excited about leaving the city, about going beyond the protection of his Father’s gigantic soul, but he was certainly curious, observing the new surroundings with interest.

The truck reached the intersection of roads that Spirit remembered so well. From when he had escaped, when she had taken him out.

“See this road?” Spirit pointed. “Exactly eight kilometers from here, you’ll find an enormous, white facility. It is… Site 17.”

“The Foundation?”

“Shhh!” hurried to hush Spirit, but then he remembered that they were alone. He even looked around, and could not see any other vehicle on the intersecting roads that morning. “Yes. Remember, this is a secret.”

“Seventeen. One plus seven is eight. Eight kilometers. Won’t forget.”

Spirit looked again in the direction were the enormous Site was.

“Father said that the Foundation helps maintain Order,” the kid suddenly said.

“They do, but… believe me, they are not very friendly.”

Spirit saw the signs pointing to the small town not too far from here. She had lived there, maybe she still did. It would be risky, but… it could be very quick.

“Come on!” Spirit smiled. “I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

They arrived to the town not too long after that, and stopped next to a park, one Spirit remembered very well. The little kid was wearing a cap to hide his hair. Spirit had observed that the straight white stripes that adorned it had been extending with the passing years. He had given the kid a pair of sunglasses, too, but the stubborn boy kept taking them off. Spirit considered that his eye color did not look as strange in the daylight than as it did in the dark, but maybe it was just that he had gotten used to it.

Spirit sighed; what exactly wanted the Lord of Death for his son to see? That there were other people, other cities, a world beyond?

The kid could see it all here, Spirit had thought. But as they walked the park, he started to think that coming here had been a very bad idea, and not only because one of the largest Foundation Sites was not far from here. There was a sudden nostalgia, weighing heavily on his heart. The memories this place brought were too painful. Because, now that they were separated, the best memories became the worst of all.

Suddenly, a blur of ash blond hair in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Spirit turned immediately to look at the back of the woman walking away. Was it… could it be?

Next to him, the small child was captivated, looking at a black swallowtail butterfly on a flower.

“Wait here, kid.”

He sprinted towards the woman. He could not see her face, but her short stature, her steps, her frame…

He could feel his heart beating at full speed.

Maybe… if he called her by her name?

Suddenly, the woman turned her head a bit. Those were not her eyes; those were not her lips…

It was not her. Of course it was not her. He stopped, and slowed his breath, as something between disappointment and relief settled on his chest.

He turned around to find the kid. Actually, not to find him.

“Kid! KID!” He screamed, feeling more and more desperate. He always said the boy needed a proper name!

Maybe if he called him by one of his… many names?

Spirit was feeling his whole body tremble. He had been warned about the witches, about the creatures that would be interested in the child. The Lord of Death had placed some kind of spell on his son, something that would protect his soul, making it look like that of a human being. Such magic would keep his true self hidden, but would also keep him unable to access his power if he needed it.

What if something went wrong, and the boy’s real soul was perfectly visible? What if the witches and the monsters...?

Spirit wished to call for the kid again, but felt he had no more air left on his lungs, as he spun frantically looking around. Unable to see him still around the park, he ran towards the street, crossing it on green light as a couple of drivers barely managed to hit the braces on time, beeping at him. He reached the other side and only stopped when he crashed into an enormous bald man.

“Man, are ya okay?” the big guy asked him. He was tall and muscular, and carried a large half-eaten sandwich on his hand. “Do ya need any help?”

“I can’t find… my boy,” Spirit said, not worrying about hiding his teary eyes, his voice a faint sound, his face pale as a ghost.

“Okay, calm down, man. Tell me, what does yer boy look like?” 

“He is, like this height… eight years old,” Spirit’s words came out between breaths, “wearing a…. red cap,… white shirt, black shorts…”

“Like that one?” the big man said, pointing at a small flower shop, with a colorful sign displaying the name Sweet Clover Paradise, just a couple of steps from them. Inside it, Spirit saw the kid.

“Oh thank you! Thank you!” Spirit said, and almost hugged the man before running towards the child.

Among aromatic flowers and bouquets of roses, the worried shop lady was talking to the kid.

“But, where’s your mommy?” she softly asked the boy.

“I don’t have a mommy,” he replied.

“There you are, kid!” Spirit exclaimed, and held the boy in his arms. “What do you think you were doing?!”

“I’m sorry, I was following the butterfly,” the boy explained. “It was so… symmetrical.”

“Well, just don’t scare me like that, young man!” Spirit reprimanded him.

“I wouldn’t want to scare you,” the boy mumbled.

The flower shop lady and a couple of clients were looking at them now, weird smiles on their faces. Probably thinking this was so sweet. The last thing Spirit wanted, to bring on them people’s attention.

“Oh! You look so much like your dad!” the shop lady told the child, with a wide smile.

Spirit thought his skin had to be looking really, really pale.

“…I think I don’t,” the kid answered, confused.

“He is right,” another client, who carried a heart-shaped bouquet, observed.

Spirit decided it was time to leave that place. This had been such a bad idea, after all.

Spirit came out of his memories and into the present when the guards appeared again and quickly took him, this time to a larger room, somewhere in those Chaos Insurgency enormous underground installations.

Inside the new room, he saw other people, also chained. He saw the dirty, badly wrapped bandages that covered them, stained with blood. He imagined the Chaos Insurgency was also experimenting on them. Or expecting to obtain information. Or both.

They were three women, each of them very different. One of them had Asian features and straight black hair; another woman had long golden hair and had a bandage covering her left eye. The one furthest from him was of short stature, with brown skin and light eyes. Spirit noticed she had almost her whole body covered in bandages, and he imagined that she might have spent a longer time in here than the rest of them.

After the guards left, he tried to talk with them. The golden-haired woman was the first who answered. The other two were more suspicious at first, but soon, they decided to participate too. He discovered the blonde-haired was an Australian farmer, then, that the other two were a Japanese business executive and an Egyptian nurse.

At first, they thought they had nothing in common…

Until they realized they were all Weapons.

“You are shapeshifters, Weapons, too?” the blonde woman questioned, whose name was Marie Mjolnir.

“How did you know that?” Spirit asked the Japanese woman, who had revealed the fact to the rest.

“I can see souls. Ours look different,” answered Yumi Asuza.

“I.. I had never met others like me before…” commented Mira Nygus, the young Egyptian.

“I had-” started Marie, but quickly interrupted herself, in fear their captors would hear. No matter what those madmen did to her, she wouldn’t answer any of their questions about the little twins. She just hoped Joe Buttataki had already taken them somewhere safer, maybe into the Wanderer’s Library, the safest place in the known universe. She turned to Asuza. “You said you can see souls?”

“I know it’s hard to believe…”  Asuza said.

“No, I believe you,” Marie said, and she hushed her voice, “you are not the first I met.”

Asuza had guessed she was not the only one, that she couldn’t be the only one, just like she wasn’t the only Weapon. A wild part of Spirit’s mind wondered if Marie had met her. After all, she had that same ability.

“Do you-?” Spirit tried to ask, looking at Marie.

“Shhh…” interrupted Asuza. “They are coming!”

They heard the screams first, then the steps. A group of guards, their faces covered, had brought a young blonde-haired man. Entering the chamber, they chained him inside, too.

The Weapons tried to talk to him as soon as the guards left, but he seemed to hear without comprehending, his own frantic words unintelligible. They realized he didn’t spoke English. Spirit tried to talk with him in Spanish, after discovering the young man spoke only Italian. After a difficult exchange of partially understood words, he discovered the young blond, named Justin, was a seminarian, and had been just caught by the Chaos Insurgency the night before. Asuza’s sight confirmed he was a Weapon, too.

That night, Spirit couldn’t sleep. At midnight, the witch came back.

Medusa Gorgon looked at the eyes of every individual in the room, and her gaze finally fixed on Justin.

“It will be fun to watch you break,” she smiled cruelly, and then she ordered the guards: “Bring him!”

Spirt and the women watched in impotence, as the guards took the young man again. Among the noise, they could hear the prayers he uttered on his mother tongue.

Asuza’s gaze was on Justin, and after the doors closed, she blinked, and focused. Spirit realized she was following their way with her second sight, he had seen both his godson and the woman he loved do it so many times before. Her eyes then closed for almost a minute, then suddenly opened in horror.

“It is, it’s horrible…” she said.

“What, what are they doing to him?” Marie asked.

“They are trying to… to force him to eat souls,” Asuza explained, in shock.

“What! But why...? Why are they doing that?” Nygus questioned.

“I know,” said Spirit, his voice grim. “I know why…”

The boy was ten years old the first time his Father sent him to fight a kishin. Spirit had learnt these creatures were former humans, corrupted by evil, who had started to devour innocent souls, becoming stronger and more powerful with each that they consumed, turning into monsters. Even though there were groups like the SCP Foundation and the Global Occult Coalition protecting humanity from evil, Lord Death had remarked that these rare creatures were His responsibility, as their corruption affected their very souls, and endangered those of innocent human beings. The souls were the thing He had to protect above everything.

Unable to leave the spot he was attached to, the Lord of Death had trusted to Spirit the mission of fighting some of those creatures during the last years. He had explained him that Weapons like him were the most powerful against them.

This time would be different, this would be the first time the child would face one of those. Spirit and the kid had arrived to the enormous city a couple hours ago, and they were now in the creature’s hiding place, an abandoned warehouse. Both of them were hiding in the darkness, observing the monster as the moonlight illuminated it, waiting for the best moment to act.

The Lord of Death had taught his son to fight. He had armed the kid with deadly moves and a precise control of his abilities. He also taught him to wield Spirit’s Scythe form. But Spirit had realized soon that the kid didn’t feel comfortable wielding him, and he knew why. His Weapon form wasn’t symmetrical.

“I want you to stay back, Spirit,” the boy suddenly said.

“I’m here to protect you, kid.”

“You’ll just get in the way,” he answered, his voice indifferent, as if stating a mere fact. Spirit tried not to show that he felt a bit hurt.

The boy had maintained the spell they called Soul Protect, but in that moment, he dropped it in order to use his abilities in the fight. The moment the protection fell, the monster seemed to notice him, and turned immediately, growling.

“I still think you should wield me…” Spirit whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” the child said, and he walked out of the shadows, towards the creature.

The kishin watched the boy intently. The kid advanced, with caution, but without showing fear, his bright yellow eyes fixed in the monster, as Spirit held his breath. The child looked so small, slowly approaching that enormous creature.

The boy walked around the kishin, both stalking each other, until, with a roar, the monster rushed against him. At that very second, the creature’s own shadow shifted below it and it fell heavily. It recovered quickly and lashed at the child, but he was faster and avoided each hit, almost playfully. The monster growled and threw itself against him, but the kid leapt gracefully above it, his arms extended and his feet together.

Spirit watched the battle, the fight of long claws against dark shadows. The kid rarely smiled, but Spirit noticed that there was a grin on his face now. It grew with every howl of pain of his adversary. Spirit felt a shiver down his spine, and tried to blame the cold air.

The child finally managed to grab the monster by its foot with his incredibly strong hands, and threw it to the wall, making the structure collapse. The creature disappeared in turbulent dark smoke. As the dust settled, the kid approached to collect the red soul.

Spirit followed him in silence. Again, the boy’s smile was gone.

The kid was thirteen years old when the kishin attacks started to increase. He and Spirit had been going in more of those missions lately. After facing and vanquishing two of them in a small city, they were back in their motel room. Past the midnight hour, Spirit awoke suddenly when he heard a metallic sound.

The red haired man felt his heart jump. He was worried about the possibility of the GOC or the Foundation finding them. However, what terrified him the most was that a witch would find the child. Spirit was a good fighter, but he had no way of protecting the kid from magic.

He walked silently to the room’s door, and, opening it very carefully, he peeped outside. In the end of the hallway, he saw that two more kishins, both way smaller than the two he and the boy had eliminated during the day, but equally horrifying. They were advancing slowly, smelling each closed door.

The boy’s soul was more powerful each day, and Spirit imagined that the few minutes the boy had dropped his protection during an earlier fight had been enough for these things to come searching for him. The Lord of Death had explained him that, in a couple years, the spell on his son’s soul would not be able to conceal him anymore. That would be like trying to hide an elephant under a blanket. It would be an especially vulnerable time for the child, as his soul would be entirely visible, but he would still be far from his full potential.

Spirit looked at the boy, already awake, and knew he was about to drop the Soul Protect, again.

“Don’t!” Spirit whispered. “Let me handle them, ok?”

“But, Spirit-”

“Escape through the window, and wait for me in the truck.”

The boy nodded and obeyed. Spirit went out of the room, making a couple of blades materialize on his arms and charged against the creatures. He could handle both easily. The kishins were certainly dangerous, even more in groups, but they were often clumsy. He fought, quick and clean. He saw the monsters disappear in cloud of smoke, leaving only their bright red souls behind.

But something was wrong. He heard more of the animalistic growls, and the sounds of a fight. Coming from outside.

“Kid!”

Spirit ran to the room and jumped through the window, following the way the child had taken. When he arrived to the parking lot, he saw the boy with his knees on the floor, bleeding from a nasty gash on his stomach.

“Oh kid, you’re hurt!”

“I’ll be fine,” he answered, through clenched teeth.

“Where did they go?”

The boy opened his hand, and showed him three spheres of crimson light.

“It is true, I can see his soul, it is changing,” Yumi Asuza said, after hearing Spirit description of the corrupted souls. Her eyes closed, her second vision focused in the unfortunate Justin. “He is giving up, and turning into… something else.”

“So, eating innocent souls will turn a person into a… kishin,” tried to understand Marie. “But if we eat those creature’s souls, the process will revert?”

“It won’t bring them back to life. But their souls will be slowly cleansed, purified again. The mechanism will release an enormous amount of energy, making us stronger,” Spirit answered, repeating the explanation he had heard many years before.

“How do you know these things?” Nygus asked him.

Spirit remained quiet. He feared they would not believe him, but more than that, he feared what their ruthless captors could hear. He remembered the day they came. The last time he had seen the boy.

Their magic trapped the Lord of Death in an enormous, cubical cage made of bright green energy, while their forces massacred the small town. Spirit and the boy were fighting tirelessly, trying to help and protect the inhabitants. But their enemies were too many.

When the effect of the spell that had Lord Death trapped ended, it was too late. The Chaos Insurgency had released what was below the city…

The mad god of fear.

Asura.

That night, the Lord of Death was destroyed. The kid saw his Father die; he felt it. Just as he could feel the passing away of each of those killed during the attack, those who had not been taken prisoner by the Insurgency.

Spirit knew that Lord Death’s time was about to end, but it was not supposed to be like this. The child was not ready…

There was no respite, as fire and the monstrous army of kishins quickly surrounded both Spirit and the boy.

“You have to escape,” Spirit said firmly. “I’ll hold them off.”

“No, I will stay!” the kid yelled.

“Kid, you need to go!”

“I won’t leav-”

“If they get you, it will be over!” Spirit roared. “For all of us, for the whole world! Asura has to be stopped, that is the most important thing right now!”

“Spirit…” the boy uttered, and for a split second, Spirit could see all of the kid’s fear, all of his pain and lifelong loneliness.

“Kid… you don’t have to be alone,” Spirit said, trying to calm his tone for a moment. The monsters kept on slowly approaching them from different directions. “I am sure I can give you enough time. Go, find help!”

The kid finally nodded. While Spirit took care of the monsters, the teenager ran. Spirit imagined where he would go.

He hoped he would find her there.

She would help.

Chapter Text

Global Occult Coalition Casefiles

Excerpt from PHYSICS Division Threat Entity Database

Threat ID: KTE-1132 Yellow-Faraday

Authorized response level: 3 (Moderate threat)

Description: Anomalously enhanced humanoid, possible shapeshifter, significant hazard due to electrokinetic abilities. The entity’s appearance is that of a 17 years old young, with black hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin. The subject is possibly a survivor from the Éclair family, this due to unfinished work by the team tasked with their neutralization three years ago.

Rules of engagement: Lethal force must be applied as soon as possible.

The gray van entered the suburban neighborhood and stopped outside a large, seemingly abandoned light blue house.

“Ok, team,” Sid Barret spoke. “It will be as we planned, team A will check the attic, team B the rooms… And Blackstar, you will search in the basement,” said Sid, with a meaningful, pointed look at the blue haired boy, who nodded. Sid had vast experience, and he was sure their objective would be hiding down there. “I’ll be waiting by the door in case it tries to escape.”

“Understood, sir,” Blackstar said, as his hand touched the hilt of the sheeted blade that hung from his belt.

“Ready? Let’s go!” Sid said, as he opened the doors for the team to exit.

Sid advanced right behind the team, all of them with their weapons ready.

“I can’t believe that we are actually doing this,” the man mumbled to himself.

Sid remembered that morning, just a couple of days ago. The sight of the mysterious blade shapeshifting into a young Asian woman. He felt at loss of words for a moment, his eyes going quickly from the girl to Blackstar and then back to her. Type Yellow, he thought.

“What is this?” he finally said, his eyes narrowing and years of training readying his body to act, to fight, to defend.

“Sid,” Blackstar exclaimed, “please listen to us!”

The bigger man had brought no weapon, having left almost all of his belongings back in the office. His hand hoovered over the radio on his belt. He would not even need to say anything, only press the emergency button, and the Coalition forces would be on their way.

How much could they delay, with a base just a couple of blocks from here?

It was then that Blackstar, slowly but determined, took a couple of steps and placed himself between the girl and the man, as he locked his eyes with Sid. There was decision in there, and a plea.

“Sid, please… just listen,” the boy said again.

Sid remembered that day, sixteen years ago, when he was the one placing himself between a kid and certain death, the day he took this enormous responsibility. When he meet the boy that brought both all kinds of new worries and the brightest light to his life.

Sid’s hand moved away from the radio and his posture subsided a bit, though his eyes were suspicious and his voice was still stern when he said:

“I’m listening.”

Blackstar jumped into the basement as the team searched in the rest of the house. In the penumbra, he found a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and pulled its fragile chain. The weak light that went on was not enough; shadows still covered most of his surroundings. He took the blade out of the sheet.

“We don’t want to startle him,” he mumbled.

The face reflecting on the blade nodded, and in a flash of light, she shifted back to human form. Tsubaki stood by his side. She suddenly walked towards a large wooden cabinet.

“Hello? Is someone there?” she spoke with a soft voice. “We want to help you.”

Blackstar took a couple of steps closer and opened the cabinet’s door. He only had one second of the barely illuminated, shocked face of a boy, before he was thrown back by a kick to the chest. The hit sent Blackstar stumbling back and he almost lost his balance, but he managed to remain standing. With a flash of lightning, the hidden boy’s hand turned into the head of a lance, and he raised it. Tsubaki acted quickly, placing herself between Blackstar and the boy, and the young agent saw more flashes of lightning. In a second, both Tsubaki and the boy’s arms were locked in their weapon’s form. The boy seemed deeply shocked as he realized this.

“Who-who are you?” he asked them.

Tsubaki's arm was firmly but carefully stopping the boy.

“I am a Weapon,” she said. “I am like you.”

The boy retreated suddenly, taking a couple of steps to the side, putting himself at some distance from the pair. He saw how Tsubaki’s arm went back to normal. Blackstar took his radio and the boy’s wide-open eyes quickly narrowed again, as he raised his still transformed arm.

“Basement clear. Ready for new orders, sir,” said Blackstar trough the radio.

“What?” mumbled in confusion the Weapon boy.

“We want to help you,” Tsubaki said gently.

“Help me?” he asked with suspicion, looking at both teenagers.

“Yes,” Blackstar huffed. “You should be grateful we’ve found you!”

Suddenly, they all could hear Sid’s voice on the radio:

“Team! He is escaping through the front door!”

“What?” almost exclaimed the Weapon boy.

Blackstar ignored him and turned to the girl:

“I’ll go with them,” he said, then he looked at Harvar Éclair in the eyes. “Tsubaki will take you somewhere safe.”

As the blue haired boy jumped up and ran to follow his leader outside from the house, Tsubaki extended her hand towards the still shocked teenager:

“Come with me.”

Blackstar wanted to be a hero

He was very happy that he was growing up under the care of actual heroes, people who risked their lives every day, so that humanity could survive, and who protected innocent people from all kinds of horrible, supernatural threats. Brave men and women that fought tirelessly, who looked at fear in the eyes without backing down, and who would never bow down to the Gods themselves.

However, there was something that made him feel uncomfortable. He always felt many of his superiors and fellows did not trust him, not truly, and could not understand the reason. One day he had asked Sid about it all.

The man had decided the boy was old enough to know the truth about his family, the Star Clan. About who they had been, and about their wrong, harmful actions. Sid made sure that the boy understood that whatever path they had chosen, it did not mean he would become the same, too. He was his own person, and only he could decide the kind of man he would to be.

Blackstar reflected for many nights and days about all that. He decided he not only wanted to be a hero.

He wanted to be the greatest hero

Blackstar and the rest of the team had almost reached Sid, who hurried even further down the street, as Tsubaki and Harvar ran through the back door. Tsubaki jumped gracefully above the fences, followed closely by the boy, who was going slower, looking behind every few seconds, as they crossed quiet streets and green gardens.

“Don’t worry. They are being led away. Follow me, come on!”

After a couple of blocks, Harvar stopped completely and tried to recover his breath. He looked at her and squinted his eyes

“Where are you taking me?”

“We are going to the Library, of course!” Tsubaki smiled.

That morning, in the alley, the two teenagers stood facing Sid. The older agent fulfilled his word and listened as both of them described how they met each other, not knowing that they were in opposing groups, and then, how they lived their first encounter with one of those strange monsters. Blackstar told Sid about how he would have died, but then the girl came back for him.

“Tsubaki, she saved me,” Blackstar finished the story, and Sid eyed the young woman again. He seemed to reflect for a moment before speaking.

“So… you are with the Serpent’s Hand… and you knew Blackstar was a member of the Coalition,” he said, and the girl nodded. “Our organizations are arch enemies,” he stated.

“…I know.”

“Why did you help Blackstar, then?”

Sid could see the young boy turn his face towards her too, probably still surprised by her actions, wishing to hear her answer.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” she said, after a pause.

Sid crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“We will answer all of your questions, Sid,” Blackstar stated.

“What are you, exactly?” the man asked Tsubaki.

“I am a Weapon, a shapeshifter,” she explained. Sid didn’t answer, and she continued: “Most of us can only turn into one weapon, but I can shift into a variety of them.”

“There is more of you?” Sid asked, immediately.

She nodded. The man looked carefully at the girl.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Blackstar trusts you, and I trust him.”

“But, why did you chose to?” Sid insisted, trying to maintain his voice as emotionless as possible. “What’s your endgame? Why would you risk yourself?”

“Something is coming, Sid,” interjected Blackstar. “Something bigger than all of us.”

“What do you mean, something is coming?” the man questioned him.

“The things that are happening, Sid,” Blackstar answered. “The new, truly evil monsters that we have been fighting…”

“The Foundation knows it, already,” said Tsubaki.

The Foundation, thought Sid, as realization dawned on his face. None of the younger agents was supposed to know this, but in his last meeting with the directives, they had discussed a very serious body of information leaked from the Foundation. About a possible worldwide emergency, related to the apparent release of a dangerous Threat Entity, caused by the Chaos Insurgency. The information they had managed to retrieve was unfortunately heavily redacted and incomplete. But, how could these two know about that?

“Wait,” Sid said, “you are in contact… with the Foundation?”

“Not officially, of course!” Blackstar repliede as Tsubaki nodded. “But we’ve met some people from inside that place, and we’ve agreed that we could unite…”

“And fight,” the girl added. “Not against each other this time, but together.”

“I can’t believe it!” one of the agents exclaimed, back in the van. “It’s the second that gets away this week!”

Sid barely acknowledged the comment, as everyone around him complained about their failure. All that he could think about now, was that he had joined the Coalition because he wanted to keep people safe. He had believed in the Coalition’s missions.

However, the truth was, that the longer he had been there, the more doubts he had.

Most of the time, he and his teams went after known killers, or after creatures wreaking havoc, or after dangerous objects…

But there were some cases, the most difficult of them, where he had to face a humanoid. It was especially hard when he would find a young one. The databases would describe them with color codes, and the Manuals would explain in precise detail: how to spot a Type Blue, the varieties of the Type Yellow, how to incapacitate and liquidate a Type Red, and what to expect from a Type Green…

Most of the time, there would be a documented description of what their objectives could do; rarely, there would be a mention of their personal names; way too many times, there would be no proof of any harm caused by them. However, the Coalition always said the same thing: even if they were not evil, they were dangerous, and the vast majority of them were going to bring harm at some point; sometimes, even those within the Coalition. The Field Manual about Humanoid Threat Entities was very specific about that.

No matter how successful those missions were, he always felt terrible at the end. He had joined the GOC because he wanted to vanquish monsters, not to murder scared kids.

But today, after what they all were calling a failure, he felt different, strangely at peace. He was sure of it now.

It had been the right thing to do.

Chapter Text

“Information obtained from Foundation operatives within the Church suggest this anomalous tool might be located in [DATA EXPUNGED], Russia, in a hidden temple dedicated to Mekhane, as the relic worshiped there matches the description of this tool.”

- Log of Anomalous Tools, “Eibon’s Key”

“Given the good response during the training and the advantages of their cooperation, the Committee has approved the participation of both instances of SCP-6613 with SCP-8842 and the MTF Delta-8 ‘Taggers’, in the mission to recover the anomalous tool denominated ‘Eibon’s Key’.”

- Dr. Frank N. Stein.

After a trip by plane and long hours of travel on earth, they finally arrived to their destiny. Liz knew they were somewhere in Russia, that they had to recover an anomalous artifact and that some weird cult was involved. Nor she nor her sister had received more details. Liz wrinkled her face, this reminded her too much of the jobs they had done for Marshall.

The van’s doors opened, Liz felt the cold air and saw the cloudy sky. After she jumped down, members of the team removed the set of handcuffs from both her and Patty. She looked around, and found that they were halfway to the top of a mount, their surroundings covered by pine trees. Not too far, peaks covered in snow were visible.

In front of the vans, incrusted in the rock, she could see a pair of large, brass doors, ornamented with gold. Agent Lombardi and Kid were already there.

“Kid. How many people are inside there?” the agent asked.

The Foundation might have not yet reached a way to explain the boy’s ability to determine other presences, but Liz and Patty knew. He had told them that he could see souls. Both sisters had seen the monsters’ souls when Kid had given those to them, but apparently, he could always see them, feel them right away, within each creature. Liz wondered what having such sense would be like. When Kid told them that, she felt curious for a moment, but did not dare to ask him what a soul like hers looked like.

She knew the things she had done, the kind of person she was…

“This is weird,” the boy said.

“What is it?” Lombardi asked him.

“There is nobody in there…”

His perception searched the entire place, but couldn’t feel a single soul inside the temple. Agent White approached the doors, his face grim.

“There is usually a group of believers guarding these temples,” he observed. “This could mean something happened to them, just like it did in Sarcophagus.”

Liz felt her heart skip a beat at those words. She had not received much information; however, she had overheard a couple of agents talking, mumbling about it. In the town of Sarcophagus, everyone had suddenly disappeared. No one knew what happened to them, but the artifact that they were looking for was definitely involved. She felt a shiver as she glanced at the pair of closed doors.

“I should go inside alone, while you wait here,” Kid said aloud, taking a couple of steps towards the entrance.

“No, Kid,” answered Agent Lombardi, gently stopping him with a hand. “We’re all going in.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Kid uttered.

“That’s the plan, and we’re stickin’ to it,” Lombardi said, more firmly this time.

“It’s too dangerous-”

“It’s always been,” Lombardi stated, as he walked closer to the door and placed himself in front of the teenager. “This ain’t our first time, ya know?”

“Don’t you understand?” uttered Kid, with a strange, deeper voice. His glowing yellow eyes fixed on Lombardi’s, reminding the man that he was more than he seemed. “The tool itself might be the cause of what happened in Sarcophagus, and maybe here, too. It could be contaminated, by radiation, a virus, or a toxin…”

The teenager and the agent stood facing each other, as the rest of the team observed them, mute.

“…none of those things can affect me,” the boy concluded.

Kid knew he had told Dr. Glass that he would follow the commands, and that he would align with the Mobile Task Force decisions. But the truth was, he had a terrible feeling about this place. He was not going to let these people take any unnecessary risks.

After a short pause, Lombardi replied.

“You’re not going in alone.” 

“Why not?!” exclaimed the boy.

“We work as a team, Kid.”

“Yes. And part of teamwork must be to delegate certain tasks.”

Lombardi bit his lip, but seemed to be finally considering it.

“If I’m not back in 20 minutes…” Kid tried.

“…10 minutes,” conceded Lombardi.

“15 minutes,” Kid said. He was confident he could retrieve the object and come back in half of the time, anyway.

A blow of freezing cold wind agitated the trees surrounding them. Lombardi debated with himself for a moment. He could feel all eyes on them.

“Fine,” the agent finally said.

A soft push was enough to open the doors. After the boy crossed the threshold and disappeared from their sight, Lombardi instructed White:

“We’re goin’ in ten.”

Kid walked hurriedly the long hallway, towards the depths of the temple. There were pillars of stone supporting the structure, but the walls seemed to be made of different metals, mostly brass. The warm light of electrical bulbs illuminated the whole place. Around him, intricate designs in gold with perfect symmetry adorned the walls. There were the recurring motifs of the gears, the hammer and the lightning, but also many other geometrical designs. Kid tried to avoid stopping to see them and hurried, finding very difficult to fight the distraction caused by such gorgeous decorations.

Both the high ceiling and the floor seemed to be made of a dark alloy that gleamed like a mirror, making the place look even more spacious, and reflecting the complex designs, further adding to this place’s beauty. Kid thought about how mirrors could turn any given space into a perfectly symmetrical one. Maybe that was the reason why he had such an affinity with them. He remembered his father’s teachings on mirror magic, how to use them for communication and, under certain circumstances, to travel.

The unmistakable feeling of a soul’s presence distracted him from his thoughts. The sensation was faint, and he needed to concentrate not to lose it. It was as if the soul was concealed, hidden way better than by any of the protection spells he knew. This was an even stronger magic, something that could confound even his powerful perception. It was leading him deeper into the temple, and he guessed it was coming from the tool. All he had to do was follow the presence and find it.

Kid soon arrived to a large, circular room. Inside, he found a multitude of static, clockwork automatons, all made entirely of metal, shining in different tonalities, some of them a reddish brown, like bronze, some gleamed in a pearlescent silver, others in light golden or in an elegant, dark plumber gray. They all were in bended knees, surrounding an altar. On its center, there was the tool, Eibon’s Key.

“Found it”, he said on the small radio, but only received static for an answer.

He walked among the humanoid machines towards the tool. He admired their design, they seemed so intricate, strong, and were completely symmetrical. Suddenly, he heard a metallic sound behind him, but as he turned around, his soul perception revealed that no one was there. He paused for a second, but quickly turned to continue his way to the altar. As he reached it, he found an inscription carved in the metallic pedestal below the tool:

“This piece was on the power of the heretics that adore the flesh: Sarcophagus, the ‘Flesh Eater’. Like all sarkites, they were sinners. That is why two mechanical Guardians arrived and destroyed them. When we came, faithful of the true God, our machines fought the Guardians and vanquished them, making us worthy of taking this piece with us. This piece of God.”

The enigmatic presence became clearer as his hand hovered over the tool, and suddenly, he recognized the soul that inhabited the object…

These people were mistaken. This was not a part of the Maker of Machines, but rather-

“Don’t touch it.”

Kid jumped back at the loud, mechanical voice that had spoken. He looked around; his activated perception still could not find another soul in the place. But it was then that he saw one of the enormous clockwork machines, slowly moving from its place and walking towards him. 

“Your flesh is filthy.” the automaton spoke.

“What?”

“You must not touch and contaminate this part of the true God, the fragmented One.” The machine approached the center of the room as it continued speaking. “The Ruler of Logic, of Symmetry, and Reason. Our God, the God of everything that is cold and inert, but energized with Intellect.”

“Mekhane…” the boy uttered.

“Silence!” the mechanical voice spoke again. “A creature like you, is not worthy of pronouncing that name.”

“Why do-?”

“The Life of the creatures of flesh is contrary to Order,” the machine interrupted him. “It is chaotic, driven by passion and instinct. That is why it always ends up corrupting and rotting. The Flesh is subject to Death and decay, because of its inferiority.”

Kid watched the automaton in stupor, horrified at its words. These things called themselves adorers of Mekhane?

“You are wrong,” he stated.

“The Mind and its creations are the only thing of true value. The Life of flesh-creatures, is worthless.”

“You are wrong!” Kid yelled.

“Such Life is nothing but the foul breath of-”

“SHUT UP!”

A wave of darkness raised and sent the machine crashing down. But then, another automaton moved on its place and said:

“You would never understand.”

A multitude of machines seemed to awake, some of them started to approach Kid, and he heard the mechanical creaks all around him.

“The best thing they could do with their pathetic lives, is to aspire to become true perfection, as intended by Him,” said one of them. “Like we did, taking our minds into these machines, made at the Image of our God.”

They started to mumble, a cacophony of mechanical voices:

“The smith answers only to God, for his hands repair His body.”

Kid knew he had to act now. His hands grasped the tool and the automatons went insane, launching themselves at him. He ran to escape, with machines of all shapes and sizes rushing behind him.

Liz realized almost ten minutes had passed. Agent White paced around watching his clock, while Lombardi observed the entrance, with an unreadable expression on his face. Liz looked at the forest behind her. Maybe she and her sister could disappear before any of these people noticed. She looked at the agents waiting for orders, then at the entrance through which Kid had disappeared.

Suddenly, there was a rumble like thunder, which made the earth under their feet vibrate. Lombardi took out his radio.

“Kid, can you hear us? What is going on in there?”

There was only white noise on the other side of the line.

“Kid, are you there? Answer!” Lombardi barked.

The same sound continued.

“Dammit!”

Liz realized that if they were going to escape, now was the time. All of the agents were distracted. She looked at her little sister, who wore a worried expression in her face.

“Patty, are you thinking the same as I am?”

The smaller girl nodded.

“I think Kido is in trouble.”

Kid’s ability to locate his enemies’ presence by detecting their souls was of great advantage when fighting against multiple opponents.

But these things had no soul.

Kid fell to the floor again. He rolled just in time to avoid the crushing hit of a hammer. He was heavily wounded, the attacks of the machines not giving him respite. When the automatons were persecuting him, Kid had realized that his race was leading them to the people waiting outside. He made the choice to stop and fight them. With his strength and shadows, he managed to destroy some of the machines, but there were still too many.

Without the aid of his sixth sense, he felt blinded. As the machines struck him from every direction, he tried to use his hearing to deduce the position of the enemies outside of his line of sight, but still couldn’t avoid in time every hit headed on his direction. Seeing the automatons rushing against him frontally wasn’t any easier, he found himself hesitating each time before defending, losing crucial time. It was as if his brain failed to recognize an entity as an enemy, when it was so beautifully, perfectly symmetrical.

Another hit made him fall on his back. He saw, in slow motion, two of the automatons raising their hammers above him, perfectly synchronized.

Suddenly a pair of blasts of pink energy send both machines flying away from him.

He heard Lombardi’s yells and the sound of machine guns. The boy looked at the team, their practiced tactic as they counterattacked, their organization flexible and adaptable. Max Lombardi coordinated their work, taking the greatest advantage of each of the team members’ skills.

Kid tried to get up and saw Patty wielding her sister, an expression of pure enjoyment in her childish face as she shoot down another automaton.

“Hi Kido!” she giggled.

“Liz, Patty!” he called with a smile.

Patty threw Liz and leapt, transforming midair, as Kid raised his arms and caught them, grasping them firmly. The pistols looked identical, but he could perceive the great differences between the sisters, he felt Patty’s enthusiasm at the adventure, and Liz’s caution and fear, terrified at their adversaries, but choosing to be brave.

Their balance was perfect.

“That was less than 15 minutes,” he mumbled, looking at two pairs of blue eyes reflecting on the weapons.

“You don’t have to be all alone, Kido!” Patty chuckled, and Liz smiled.

Kid raised the guns to shoot at the rushing machines, and Liz could feel again the immense power within him, as the three of them supported each other, all of that energy running through her Weapon form and her sister’s like through channels, making all of his strength hers.

Their blasts, as well as the MTF’s attacks were destroying the machines. But more and more kept appearing, surging from the depths of the Temple.

Kid looked around at the gorgeous construction, its symmetrical perfection, made by the faithful to honor Mekhane. Believers that, unfortunately, had since long forgotten the truth about Her sacrifice. He thought about the millenarian deity, breaking Herself down in pieces to protect Life.

“Lombardi, I’m going to trap them all in here!” Kid yelled.

The agent nodded and ordered the team:

“Retreat!”

Kid pointed the sisters at the walls and the stone pillars, the blasts making them fall above the rushing machines and finally blocking their way, effectively burying the automatons inside the falling temple, as he and the team crossed the exit. A cloud of dust and falling debris followed them, but the team had already reached a safe distance.

“Damn Mekhane and its creatures!” one of the agents exclaimed, kicking a rock towards the still open doors.

“Don’t..!” another one told him, with a fearful voice.

“Come on!” one of his fellows laughed. “It’s not like there are any gods out there.”  

Max Lombardi looked at the settling debris. He wished he had the conviction of a non-believer. It would be better than the certainty that they were out there, creating and destroying existence, just as easily as he inhaled and exhaled. The certainty that they, the cold bastards, would never give a fuck about humanity or this small world.

The van ran smoothly through the cold night, only a faint light illuminating the interior of the vehicle. This time, Kid and the sisters were together, in the same van. A couple of agents still accompanied them the whole time, and both sisters were handcuffed, as they were supposed to be when not during the mission, but there was the promise that further cautions would depend directly on their behavior, and Liz knew they needed to be as cooperative as possible, at least for now.

She shifted uncomfortable on her seat, as she wondered if she could do something like this again. What she had seen today would haunt her nightmares for years to come. She didn’t even know such “religion” existed, and still was trying to understand everything they had seen.

The girl looked at Kid, he always seemed to know a lot about so many mysterious things.

“What the hell was that?” she asked him. “Some messed-up machine cult?”

“The Mekhanites, also known as the Church of the Broken God,” Kid explained. “They adore the deity Mekhane and machines.”

“Mekhane?” Liz uttered.

“They believe that machines are superior, and that the body, its flesh and blood, Life itself, are inferior and worthless,” continued Kid. “They want to repair their deity, and have Her rule over a new world of machines.”

“I don’t understand!” Patty interjected. “Why would they adore such an evil god?!”

After a pause, Kid spoke again:

“Mekhane wasn’t evil. She helped maintain Order, and She gifted humanity with intellect. She broke herself down to defend Life, to save this world from a threat that would have crushed it. My father told me Her story before.”

There was a dark quality to his voice as he said that. Both sisters listened in silent amazement as he told them the story of the Broken One.

“The body, the mind and the soul, are not enemies. They support each other, it’s a balance,” he finished, and his expression turned into a scowl. “But these people, they forgot what Mekhane sacrificed Herself for. They forgot the truth, that is why they couldn’t realize the object they worshipped, wasn’t even a part of Her.” 

For a short moment, there was only the sound of the wind outside and the constant roar of the vehicle’s motor. The pattern of breaths of the pair of agents, that were supposed to be watching them, revealed Kid that they were soundly asleep. He spoke again.

“Gods can go mad, but She wasn’t.”

Liz felt a shiver. Kid was so creepy when he said stuff like that, with his strange, golden eyes glowing in the penumbra.

“Why do you tell us these things, Kido?” Patty asked him.

After a moment of silence, he finally said:

“Liz, Patty. The whole world is in danger.”

If today’s experiences were not enough for Liz’s nerves, his next words would be.

“I have seen what a mad God looks like.”

Chapter Text

It was raining heavily outside, that cold morning, while Maka waited in the lonely restaurant, constantly checking the clock. She tried not to think that, maybe, she would not come after all.

She distracted, reflecting about her last conversation with Dr. Stein. According to him, the Foundation knew only what Kid had explained to them: that the Chaos Insurgency had released an ancient horror; that it was similar, but way stronger than the boy; and recently, he had detailed that it could affect people’s minds directly through some kind of wavelength.

Supposedly, the Foundation did not know who the boy they had named SCP-8842 was in reality. Maka understood why Kid would be worried about such information reaching the wrong ears. Nevertheless, both she and Dr. Stein had suspicions about the Overseer Council knowing more than what was official.

They always knew more.

Suddenly, the glass doors opened with the sound of a bell. There was a pink haired girl with wet shoes, who agitated the water from her closing umbrella before entering. Quickly spotting Maka, she walked towards her table.

“Sorry I’m late!” Kim Diehl said as she sat in front of Maka.

A waitress arrived and filled their cups with hot coffee. After she finished and walked away, Maka asked Kim.

“Did you find more information, about what I told you on the phone?”

“Which part of it all?” the girl questioned back.

“About…” Maka hushed her voice, “the Great Old Ones.”

The words they had been sharing through their phone calls, and her own investigations in the Library, were slowly convincing Kim that what that strange boy had said was the truth. Maka claimed that, according to him, what they were going to face was one of the beings known as Great Old Ones. Both the witch and the researcher had decided they had to meet, as to continue talking through the telephone could not be safe enough. Kim still was not sure if she should trust this jailor with everything she had found, but at least she could tell her some parts.

The blonde girl squinted her eyes as she asked:

“What are they, really?”

“I’m not sure…” Kim replied, her expression grave. “I found mostly stories and legends, some of the sources incomplete, others contradictory. They don’t seem to agree, nor in their true nature, nor in how many of them exist. To be honest, most of it sounds like very elaborated fantasies.”

“I totally understand when it is difficult to separate the facts form the myth, you know?” Maka said, trying to smile, but Kim’s serious face did not change. She looked around before continuing.

“Some claim the long lost, legendary sword Excalibur was one of them. Also the Broken God. Others say the ancient sorcerer Eibon was one, too. Different sources will either include or exclude the sarkic deity Yaldabaoth in the same category,” Kim explained. “But there are three entities that are Great Old Ones, according to most. Those who have domain over Power, Fear and Death...”

“Death?” Maka asked her.

“Yes,” Kim said, an undeniable tremor in her voice as she answered. “But, let me tell you first what I found about the Great Old One of Power-”

“Wait… what do you know about Death?”

Kim shifted on her seat nervously and looked around again, though it was clear nobody was close.

“Listen,” she told Maka with a hushed voice. “Nothing of this I know as a certainty, but from legends and stories I’ve heard and found…”

Maka nodded and Kim continued, almost in a whisper:

“…some of them horror stories.”

No matter how much coffee he drank that gray, rainy morning, Soul’s eyes were still drifting closed as he tried to watch some TV, slouched on Jackie’s couch. Most of his friends were still asleep. Last night, he had tried to convince them of continuing to travel without him, but they refused to leave him behind.

They were staying for him. And he wanted to stay… for what? To join a team of strangers, and fight the forces of evil?

It was only natural his friends would be worried about him, and about his new companions. Those people he recently met, they were certainly dangerous. One was a GOC agent, enough said. Two of the girls were from the Serpent’s Hand, a group that wasn’t known for staying out of trouble. The strange yellow-eyed boy, he seemed to be hiding more than he revealed…

And Maka. She worked for the Foundation, and not the Manna Charitable.

Just a couple weeks ago, Soul would have considered an idea like this as insanity. He was not a warrior. He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember again everything he could about that horrifying night’s fuzzy events. Until that experience, he had never gotten into a fight. The image of the black sword cutting him open caused a tingling sensation in the scar, the long mark that remained even after the efforts of the pink-haired witch. Soul wrinkled his face as the memory led him to a worrisome thought. Blackstar, Tsubaki and Kid… they obviously knew how to fight. So did Maka, she had told him that every Foundation worker had at least some basic training; besides, she faced the most terrifying things at her workplace every day. She had demonstrated she was not afraid to do what she decided.

He wasn’t as strong as any of them. Supposedly, they would start training together, somehow. It would be obvious he was far from his teammates. How was he supposed to fight monsters, not to mention save the world from an ancient, evil horror?

Kim and Maka had to pause their dialogue as the waitress came back again, to take their orders. When she left, they remained quiet for a moment before Kim finally said.

“There are old legends among the witches that involve…the Lord of Death. They say He hated magic or at least, our kind of magic.”

“Why?” Maka questioned.

“He was supposed to rule over natural order…” Kim began to explain in a hushed voice.

“An order that is challenged… by magic,” tried to understand Maka, and Kim nodded.

“The stories said that, hundreds of years ago, the Grim Reaper would come for every magic user, as soon as He could find one,” the pink haired girl’s face visibly paled. “Since I was younger, I… I have listened to such stories, about witches who tried to rise against Him. In each and all of them, the witches perished…” Kim explained, a tremble in her voice as she continued, “…in horrible ways.”

Maka bit her lip. She had considered asking Kid if they could trust Kim, and only her, the truth about him. The witch had been rude, even when helping them, but Maka could see in her soul, one of a peculiar purplish color, that her choice had been to help those in need, and also that there was a true wish to make the world a better place, especially for people like her. Maka really had no idea of what kind of knowledge Kim could access within the Wanderer’s Library, but she was sure the witch would work better if she counted with all the available information.

Now it seemed that telling her would not be such a good idea after all…

“There is a story about one witch who almost brought Him down,” Kim continued, interrupting Maka’s thoughts. “The only one that ever survived fighting against Him. Arachne, the Spider Witch.”

“Arachne?”

Kim nodded. She took a sip of her coffee and wrinkled her face at the bitter taste. It still surprised her to think that the legend stated Arachne had survived confronting Death himself, but in the end, the mere brute force of the Coalition had been what ended her, not too many years ago. Kim thought bitterly, that if someone had ever deserved to be hunted down by the bookburners, it was that cruel woman…

“You mentioned her before,” uttered Maka, remembering a whispered conversation through the phone. “She created the Demon Weapons… Was Death the enemy for which she was building that army?”

“It could be…” Kim whispered.

“You think, the Weapons are strong enough to defeat, a Great Old One?”

“Well…” Kim said, as she poured more sugar in her coffee, “it did not work for Arachne. The legends state the Weapons were a failed experiment.”

They both silenced again the moment the waitress arrived and brought them their pancakes. Kim opened every jar of on jelly on the table and used a butter knife to completely cover her breakfast. Maka felt it was so weird to be talking about ancient horrors and the fate of the world, that rainy morning, in that lonely diner, over irregularly shaped pancakes and smelling burnt coffee.

She thought about Kim’s last sentence: a failed experiment…

She remembered Soul, then the sisters’ display of their abilities, and then Tsubaki, the girl she had recently met. She saw nothing failed about them, but… what had the Spider Witch tried to achieve?

Seemingly not satisfied with using all the available marmalades, Kim was now pouring on her pancakes a large quantity of golden, slowly dripping honey.

“Do you know where… Death is, now?” Maka asked Kim, carefully.

The witch reflected for a moment before answering.

“Even if the Great Old Ones are real, this thing about ‘Death’ hunting the witches, hundreds of years ago... those are just stories. We have the very real Global Occult Coalition to worry about. And the SCP Foundation, too.”

Kim’s voice was nonchalant now, but Maka had perceived the quivers of fear in her soul since the topic came up. She felt that, even though Kim wanted to dismiss such narrations as fantasy, she was not convinced of her own words about it. Maka chose not to question her further, she looked down at her food and started eating quietly, as Kim devoured the entirety of her pancakes. Maka wondered if the girl had eaten at all during the last few days.

“There is something more I want to know about Them,” Maka said suddenly. “What do you know about their Madness?”

Soul’s eyelids finally closed and he fell asleep.

Before he noticed, he realized he was sitting in a chair in the dark room. The old gramophone was on playing a familiar jazz rhythm.

So, he was dreaming again. He knew he would not find Maka, not now, not today…

From a door leading to darkness, a small figure came inside, humming the notes of the song playing. The boy squinted his eyes at a red devil, wearing the same suit he had, that came dancing its way inside. Soul had the sudden certainty of having seen the same creature many times before, right here, but could not remember exactly since when.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The creature fixed on him pale yellow eyes with no visible pupils, as its unnerving smile grew wider until breaking into a strident laugh. 

“Are you afraid, boy?” it finally asked.

“Of course not,” Soul responded, nonchalantly “I know this is a dream, this isn’t real.”

“Oh, just because it is a dream, it’s not any less real!” the devil stated. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

Soul felt a sudden quiver as he remembered Maka, appearing to him in that same room, and he did not feel as certain as he felt just a moment ago. She was real, but this thing could not be…

Or maybe it meant not that it belonged to the world outside, but…

What did real mean anyway?

He thought that the ability distinguish what was real from what was not, that was the definition of sanity. The itch in the long scar returned, and he became sure his hand was trying to scratch his chest on his sleep. The memory of the way he got the wound reappeared and he became certain, that the devil knew it, knew it all…

“Tell me, were you afraid? That night?” the devil asked, the smile not leaving the monstrous face.

Soul’s red irises moved to look at the small being, but he remained silent.

“You don’t need to answer” the devil giggled. “I see everything that you see, I know everything that you know, and everything that you feel…”

“Leave me alone!” Soul exclaimed.

“Listen to me…” the creature continued, its voice louder. “Only power can free you from fear.”

“I read that each of the Great Old Ones have their own form of madness, and infect mortals with it,” explained Maka, remembering what she had found in her mother’s diary.

“Where did you read that?” the witch questioned immediately.

“There are some… transcriptions of old texts,” Maka said, avoiding Kim’s eyes, “in the Foundation’s archives. But most of them are incomplete.”

The witch looked at Maka with a frown. The blonde girl reasoned that technically, she was not lying.

“That is… similar to what I found,” Kim thought aloud, “but, it seems to be more complex than that. It’s not simply the infection of the Great Old One’s madness, but also the awakening something that is already within the individual, their own intrinsic insanity.”

“What do you mean?” Maka asked.

“Madness is something within us all," the witch explained. "It’s latent in our needs, in our desires, in everything we do.”

The idea sent a wave of vertigo through Maka, and she felt the beginnings of a headache.

“Think of this, for example,” Kim continued. “We all have ambitions, a wish to improve our talents or to possess authority. But, when that desire grows and becomes everything, when it consumes the person…”

“Then… it’s Madness,” Maka completed.

“I said I know everything you know," the red devil spoke. "But even beyond that, I know things about you, things that you don't know yourself, all inside here, that you wouldn't dare to see..."

"You know nothing about me..." Soul said.

"The space around this room. It is dark, because you are chossing not to see it. Everything you really are, all of your potentials," the red creature explained, as Soul heard its steps approaching. "For example, there is something within you now, something very powerful...”

“What are you talking about?” 

“When that sword hit you, it infected you.”

“Infect me? Infect me how?” Soul asked it, as confusion and some kind of dread started to flood within him.

“You want power? It will come with a price to pay, but believe me... it is small,” the devil giggled as it turned to walk its way out of the room.

“No, wait!"

The devil laughed and laughed, as it dissapeared into the endless darkness that lied outside of the small room.

"Wait! What is that supposed to mean?” Soul questioned as he stood and rushed behind it, right before stumbling into the darkness.

“I have an ability…” Maka trusted Kim. “I can see people’s souls.”

“That’s a rare talent,” Kim replied, raising an eyebrow.

“You are a thaumatologist,” Maka said.

“A what?”

“A magic user. I will need a… spell.”

“What kind of spell?” asked the witch, with a frown.

“I want to improve my abilities. Expand their reach.”

Kim looked at the girl. The power the blond girl was claiming to have was not common, but Kim guessed it was possible she had it. She was no expert when it came to souls, but having grown in the Wanderer’s Library, she knew how to search for information, which books she could trust, and whom she could ask. However…

“It will come with a price.”

“I know, I will pay you,” the blond girl answered, quickly.

“Not only my price,” Kim said, and she ate the last piece of pancake in her plate. She then finished her coffee in one gulp and stared into Maka’s eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Maka replied.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said as she got up.

Maka watched Kim walk to the exit. She stayed alone for some minutes, watching her own unfinished breakfast. She moved the plate away from her, a pulsing headache now completely installed.

Chapter Text

In the medical wing of the Site-17, Maka desperately rummaged through the drawers of the dispensary, not willing to wait for the nurse. The headache had not receded since that morning’s talk with Kim, and right now, she felt her head was about to split, despite the analgesics she had already taken.

“Researcher Albarn?”

Maka jumped and turned around. When she saw SCP-208 approaching her, a feeling of relief washed over her. As many people within the Site, Maka could say that the mere closeness of the friendly Egyptian man could diminish any pain and induce a feeling of wellness. Such effect was related to a form of electromagnetic radiation or wavelength of his; or at least, that was what the researchers said. It was something that Dr. Stein was also investigating on the man, secretly. He had told Maka that Bes could not only heal, but also drive away evil…

“How are you?” the man asked her.

“Not good, Bes. I… I have a headache.”

“Please, allow me,” he said solemnly.        

As she nodded, the man took a hand to her head, extending his arm to reach her, as even though she was short, she was still taller than him. Bes closed his eyes as he focused, and Maka felt a soft warmth, like the light of the sun at dawn, that made the pain recede slowly until there was no trace of it.

“Thank you, Bes,” she expressed, relieved.

“You’re welcome,” answered the man with a cherful smile. He waved goodbye as she went back to her lab, but something left Bes thinking.

Her soul had… some rare qualities.

After a long day in the laboratories of the Site, Maka finally returned to her apartment. She turned off the lights in her room and rested on her bed. The recall of Dr. Stein and his secret studies on the properties of souls led her train of thought back to Kid, and everything he had told her, just a couple of days ago. She still couldn’t believe he not only knew her father, but that they had been close. She couldn’t believe either the fact that her father had been hoping Kid would find Maka’s mother in Site-17.

The girl fought back the tears, blinking in the darkness, as her pupils adapted to it. If only she had discovered her ability sooner, if only she had seen her mother’s soul, and knew what it looked like, maybe then she could have used her talent to find her. Stein said he had tried, too many times, but that he never could. She did not want to think about that, but, what if her mother was..?

What if she was..?

Maka closed her eyes and exhaled.

Her father wasn’t dead, of that Kid was sure, he said that he would know if he was. He also said that he had looked for Spirit with his Soul Perception, but he had been unable to find him, and Maka already knew his ability was much more accurate and had a larger range than hers. Wherever her father was, he was somewhere beyond the area Kid’s perception could reach, or hidden by powerful spells.

During their last conversation, Kid had made some vague assertions about the limits of his abilities. It was then that Maka understood. He wasn’t at full power, but rather at a fraction of what he could truly achieve. And their enemy was not only like him, but many times stronger.

If what her mother wrote in her diary was true, it made perfect sense. He was new at this. Maybe he was exactly what he looked like…

A kid.

Maybe that was the reason why his presence wasn’t driving them all insane.

Maka rolled over her bed, unable to feel comfortable enough. She remembered that the boy had seemed so sad and frustrated when he confessed to her his inability to find Spirit, feelings she shared in that moment, after listening to his stories about him, and desiring to find his father more than ever. Maka was no expert in thaumatology, but she was sure there had to be a way to amplify the kid’s power. Maybe she should have told Kim the truth; about for whom she had requested the spell.

Now, she just wanted to find Soul, talk to him about the things she had learnt, about the creation of the Demon Weapons hundreds of years ago. He had the right to know it. Besides, she knew his peaceful, calm presence would be for her like a shelter in this storm. She still could not believe he had forgiven her, after all the things that had happened.

Maka finally drifted into sleep and when she opened her eyes, she found herself in a dream.

But Soul was not there.

She was in the park, in the near city, that much she could tell. But the landscape was horrifying. The visible edifications were in ruins, some of them on fire, the dark smoke raising towards a crimson red sky. Not so far in the distance, among red clouds and smoke, she distinguished a shape.

It was humanoid, its head almost completely covered in bandages, or scarves, but they were loose enough to reveal part of its face. Three glowing red eyes fixed on her small frame, then on her soul…

She noticed the locks of black and white hair, agitating in the wind…

At first, she thought she was alone in the dreamscape, the distant screams the only voices she could hear. Nevertheless, she suddenly realized that there was a man standing next to her, also observing the strange apparition.

“Maka Albarn,” the man by her side saluted in a deep voice, without looking at her. She turned her face up, slowly, and saw that he was wearing a fedora and a brown Cold War era business suit.

“Who are you?” Maka asked him, even though she already knew the answer.

“Your enemies are advancing quickly,” the man said, ignoring her question.

“What?” she managed to articulate.

“You will need help.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you are going to unite, do it now,” he stated.

“Unite?” Maka questioned, but the man had already started to walk away. “Wait!” she called, “unite, you mean, the Foundation? Or… us?”

SCP-990 turned around and tipped the dark brown hat on his head, smiling at her. The dream image started to distort and disappear as the awakening light came.

Chapter Text

The van arrived early to Summer Cycling Park that cloudy, autumn morning. Liz and her sister jumped out of it, followed by Agent White, who quickly removed their handcuffs. Liz found strange he was the only Mobile Task Force agent present that day, they usually trained with the whole team.

“Given the successful results in Mekhane’s Temple and in the missions that followed,” Dr. Stein said, in front of them, “I have suggested your training should be more frequent. But that is not all, not exactly the reason why we are here…”

Liz nodded slowly. This definitely was related to the things Kid told them before. That cold night, somewhere far away, when he talked with them about the Mad God. About the world being in terrible danger, and about it being the reason he came to the Foundation on the first place. A menace that could mean the end of the world. He was hoping she and Patty would continue to fight alongside him, against it.

At first, the older Thompson thought he had to be insane. She knew he was weird, and she had seen his odd behavior, the way he took disorder as a personal offense, his love for repetition and symmetry. However, even the craziest were right from time to time. Those things he had said about the souls, it was true, and not just imagination. She was feeling her Weapon form becoming stronger each day. If his words about this new threat were true, could she do that? Face an ancient, godlike horror?

She had learnt this wasn’t the first time the Foundation would avert the end of the world. Its teams brought down all kind of nightmares all over the world, every day, and, if she were to believe the stories and legends within the Site, there were beings behind its walls that others called gods.

Liz looked at Kid coming out of the van behind them, a little smile on his face. She remembered he was so serious when they first met; she had noticed he smiled more now. So did her little sister, she realized. Liz was sure that, in the last couple of months, she had heard Patty laugh more than during all of their childhood. Even as prisoners, even when facing new horrors. Liz had had so many awful experiences in her 18 years, but in that moment, standing next to both her little sister and their weird friend, she had the sudden certainty that the world, though dangerous and unknown, was not as hostile and scary as she had once believed it was.

Maybe it was something worth fighting for.

Maka arrived on her black car and parked it close to the entrance of Summer Cycling Park. She saw Tsubaki, the tall girl was hesitating outside the large black doors, a strawberry red bicycle next to her.

“I can’t believe it, I have come to this place during summer!” Tsubaki exclaimed, as they walked together through the opening doors.

Maka smiled. The Foundation knew very well that the best way to hide something was in plain sight. After a moment, she said:

“I thought Kim was going to come, too.”

“No, she…she couldn’t,” Tsubaki answered.

“Why?” Maka asked her, immediately. Her mind was quickly creating all kind of scenarios, where the witch girl discovered, on her own, just with whom they were teaming up. Maybe her sudden worry showed on her face, because Tsubaki quckly tried to explain:

“The Hand needed her, for a mission…” she started, but then interrupted herself and looked away, probably regretting revealing that detail.

They continued walking in silence for a moment, as Maka wondered what Kim’s “mission” could entail. Maybe dealing with the Chaos Insurgency? A fight against a GOC division? Or even, an assault on a Foundation Site?

Could things ever, truly change?

Maka looked at Tsubaki walking by her side over the wet grass. She didn’t know the girl very much…

“What do you think, about all this?” she asked Tsubaki.

“You mean the world ending?”

“No, I mean... about joining.”

The taller girl smiled gently.

“I knew that, if only there was a chance, we could reason with each other. But, I almost got to think it all was a false hope. If I hadn’t met Blackstar before…” she said, and Maka noticed a lively pink illuminating her cheeks. “Blackstar and I, we have been helping people escape from the Coalition, you know?” Maka looked at her with wide eyes as she heard that. “But we’ve had help, from someone else within the GOC. His name is Sid. Blackstar will bring him today.”

They reached a small group, there was Kid, the strange boy who had gone willingly with the jailors, and four other people Tsubaki had never seen before. One of them, a blonde girl on pink sweatpants was suddenly running towards her.

“Kid says you are a Weapon! Like us! This is awesome!” she exclaimed, her big sky blue eyes glinting with excitement.

“We had never met someone like us before,” a taller girl commented, wearing matching purple sweatpants, who came following the smaller girl.

Maka wrinkled her face in confusion, but then remembered that, though Soul had been within Site-17, he and the sisters never met. As she saw Tsubaki and the sisters chat, she realized this truly was the first time they met another Demon Weapon.

“Wait, you are more than one Weapon?” Liz asked the new girl, as she enumerated her various shapes.

“You have to show us!” Patty exclaimed.

“Wait,” Kid said, approaching them. “Before that…” Three glowing red orbs appeared on his hands. “These are yours.”

He extended his hands towards Tsubaki, who looked at the people around her in confusion. She noticed a strange scientist, watching with interest from a distance.

“What are those things?” Tsubaki asked.

“These are the souls, of the kishins.”

Sid Barret thought that one thing was to let innocent kids escape from the Coalition. But another thing entirely, was to start working with Foundation people.

He knew the GOC and the SCP Foundation had found themselves working together under special circumstances, but that did not mean that the Coalition agreed with their unethical methods, their use of human beings as guinea pigs, the secrets they hid from the world and their cruel experimentation. It was true, the Coalition would eliminate dangerous anomalies; but the skippers would torture them.

He always thought that his group was questionable; but that the Foundation was abominable. However, Blackstar had somehow convinced him of their idea, that extravagant idea, that they could all unite.

Sid and Blackstar parked their vehicle outside of the open doors of the Summer Cycling Park. A girl in her late teens received them. She had ash blonde hair and green eyes, and wore a long black coat.

“Follow me,” she said, and led them beyond the black doors, into the green fields inside.

She introduced herself to Sid as Maka Albarn, the man remembered she was the girl Blackstar said he met; not too long ago, when he fought with Tsubaki against a group of parathreats. The young agent had told Sid that the young researcher had helped someone escape from the Foundation. So, maybe she was like himself… doubting the principles of the institutions they served.

Sid knew Blackstar since he was a baby, and he could see there was still suspicion and wariness within him, despite of which the boy advanced with determination, following the blonde girl. He had decided to give this idea a try, he wasn’t going to go back on that. And neither was Sid.

They walked towards a small group of three individuals. Sid felt a throb of unease as he approached them. These were Foundation people, there was no doubt about that.

One of them, a young agent, wearing a MTF uniform, gave them the most forced of smiles. Next to him was a tall man wearing a stitched lab coat, his hair was a silver gray and there was a giant screw on his head. He smiled too, but even if the smile felt more authentic than that of his companion, it was not friendlier. Sid perceived something manic in the glinting eyes of the scientist, so he quickly turned his eyes towards the smaller member of the group, a boy who was looking at him with a taciturn expression. He was probably of the same age, or even younger than Blackstar. Sid’s trained mind immediately focused on the boy’s strangest characteristics. He had straight white stripes on his black hair, and his eyes were a bright yellow. Sid also noticed the four numbers on his black clothing.

He soon learnt these were Agent White, Dr. Frank N. Stein and SCP-8842, also known as “Kid”.

“You understand that what we are doing here won’t be official?” Dr. Stein questioned Sid.

“I understand,” Sid answered.

“Nobody can know,” Agent White insisted.

“Tsubaki!” Blackstar called, as he saw the young woman approaching them.

Sid felt relieved of seeing a familiar face among these all, even if he didn’t know the girl very much. He saw a special fondness in Blackstar’s expression as he pronounced her name. Or maybe, something more...

Two other girls accompanied Tsubaki. Two very normal looking girls, who seemed out of place among these people, thought Sid. But the numbers printed on their sweatpants definitely meant… 

“These are 66… Elizabeth and Patricia,” Dr. Stein explained. “They’ll be joining us.”

“We are Weapons!”

“Like you?” Blackstar asked Tsubaki.

“What kind of weapon?” Sid asked, his voice a combination of curiosity and suspicion.

“Let’s show them, Liz!”

Well, Sid was wrong when he thought they seemed to be the most normal among these people. He watched as a bright pink light enveloped both blondes, and Kid extended his hands to catch a pair of identical guns. Sid would not deny he felt an instinctive unease at the sight at the strange young, now armed.

Why hadn’t he arrived?

Maka looked at the distance, the long road that ended here, the way entirely surrounded by trees, many of which had lost a large portion of their leaves. The air felt suddenly colder.

What if he believed that this was some kind of trap, just to capture him again?

She would understand if Soul finally decided it was safer not to trust her. Maybe it would be for the best, he did not need to be forced to be part of this, to put himself in risk again. Her eyes fixed on the ground and she sighed.

The sound of a motorcycle made her turn her face towards the road again.

“Soul!”

The boy squidded to a stop right in front of her.

“I’m so sorry!” he said removing his helmet. “I got lost.”

“We are all here because we have chosen to unite,” Dr. Stein said, looking at the strange group reunited. “This choice isn’t different to any of those that we had made before. Truth is, we’ve all made our choices long ago. We wanted to learn more,” he said, looking at Maka. “We declared war against those who would bring harm,” as his gaze was on Blackstar now. Maka realized he was looking at each of their souls. “We chose to do what we considered was right,” he said aloud, looking at Tsubaki. He then turned a bit to face the sisters. “We have something to fight for…” He finally looked towards Soul and Kid, to say: “And we have the power to do so.”

The group listened to him with attention, but Maka could still perceive around different levels of uncertainty and reservation. 

“You are a team now,” Dr. Stein finished.

“You need a name!” Agent White exclaimed.

Dr. Stein lit a cigarrete. “I say you are our totally unofficial, secret Mobile Task Force, ‘The Spartoi’.”

“The Spartoi?” Sid Barret mumbled.

“The Foundation likes to nickname its teams,” Agent White explained him.   

“We’re a Foundation team now?” Blackstar almost yelled.

“Spartoi?” questioned Soul. “What does that mean?”

“They were mythical warriors, who grew from earth, from sowed dragon’s teeth,” Maka explained.

“Awesome!” Patty exclaimed.

Stein looked at Maka and asked her:

“Do you know how were they vanquished?”

“Their enemy… he made them fight against each other,” Maka narrated. “He threw a rock at them, and they blamed and destroyed one another.”

Dr. Stein exhaled the smoke of his cigarette:

“Always remember that,” he said.

Chapter Text

██ /██/████

It’s only been two weeks of training, but they are advancing faster that I thought they would, the seven of them. The witch girl they mentioned before has not appeared, but I think it might be the best.

Better not to involve magic users. I still remember… (Page ripped here)

… just as I had already observed. Every soul has a unique wavelength, and it some cases, it can be used to a variety of effects. Like SCP-208’s wavelength, that allows him to induce in others a feeling of wellness, heal, and acts as a barrier against evil intent. I had since long discovered that mine could be used directly as an special attack, and I reached the hypothesis that Blackstar could use it the same way, too…

Sid Barret did not like at all the way the weird scientist of the screw was looking at Blackstar, his gaze fixed on the boy as he practiced with Tsubaki’s various shapes. Sid shifted his weight uncomfortably; he still did not trust these Foundation guys.

Those people saw everything as an object of study, and had no qualms about experimenting on human beings-

“I want to try something,” the scientist suddenly said, making Sid turn his face towards him in apprehension.

“I will hit you,” Dr. Stein told Blackstar, approaching him. “You try to block it.”

“Just that?” the boy laughed. “It’ll be easy!”

The two faced each other. Blackstar saw as the older man moved faster than he would have thought possible for him, and could barely move before the punch hit him, with a zapping feeling and a shockwave that sent him flying in the air before falling on the grass.

“Blackstar!” exclaimed Sid, as he ran towards the boy.

“He’ll be fine-” started Stein.

“What the hell was that?” Sid yelled at him, trying to lift an unconscious Blackstar. “What did you do?”

“I used my soul wavelength as a direct attack,” explained Stein, calmly.

“What?” exclaimed Sid, looking at the scientist in some kind of horror, but was quickly distracted when he heard the boy’s voice:

“Please…”

“Blackstar!” said Sid. “Are you alright?”

“Please… YOU GOTTA TEACH ME HOW TO DO THAT!”

As I suspected, Blackstar was able to reproduce this technique. His energy and enthusiasm are pushing him forward. Maka has advanced so much, too, but she does not seem to realize that. I’ve noticed she tends to lose patience quickly. She feels she is falling behind, and that has been making her rush too much when trying to learn the techniques Kid’s been teaching her. She needs to consider Soul, as these are big steps for him as well. I have observed he seems hesitant…

Maka had practiced with the Demon Scythe the whole morning, Kid was teaching her everything he had learnt before, with his Father and Spirit Albarn. They were taking a time to rest now, with Soul returning to human form.

“You’re improving very quickly,” Kid told Maka.

“I’ve been practicing every day,” Maka said, after drinking from her water bottle. “With a mop.”

She quickly turned her head around to look at Soul, worried about him thinking she was comparing him to such cleaning supply, but he was distracted, chatting with Blackstar. They seemed to be getting along quite well.

“Maybe you can try the resonance, now,” Kid considered.

Maka felt a rush of excitement. Kid had explained them about the resonance, a special technique that would amplify both the Weapon’s and their wielder’s abilities.

“Yes!" she exclaimed, and ran to her partner, "We are ready for the resonance, aren’t we, Soul?”

The boy seemed uncertain for a moment, but quickly brushed it aside.

“Sure!”

“Well, you’ve done it instinctively, after all,” Kid commented. “That’s how you connect in your dreams. Not even needing the physical contact. Focus in that feeling, it will help.”

Maka grasped Soul’s weapon form firmly and thought of the moments they had shared, in those dreams. She recalled the melody he had played on his piano, the day they met. She felt both their souls reaching towards the other, and gave herself to the feeling.

Before she realized what was happening, she saw the way the blade shifted into a larger, glowing shape, that reminded her of a crescent moon. It seemed to be made of crystal, but Maka knew it was infinitely stronger. She saw the sharp edges, crackling with powerful energy. On the gleaming surface, she found Soul’s red eye, open wide.

“WOW!” Patty shouted.

“That is, so beautiful!” Tsubaki said.

“This is amazing!” Maka exclaimed.

“My father used to call this technique-” Kid started, but suddenly interrupted himself.

“How… how did he call it?” Maka asked him with curiosity, her eyes still fixed on the Weapon.

“The… Hunter” he finally replied, somewhat hesitatingly.

“The Hunter,” she repeated, admiring the shining blade.

I guess I should not be that surprised to see that Kid knows how to wield one of those. Anyway, I noticed that he had no problem grasping Soul’s Weapon form, something Blackstar also tried, to no avail. That frustrated him, especially when the “obviously weaker” Maka could so easily lift the Scythe.

As I had already considered, a special match is required for the Weapons to be used. It would make sense that Kid had the ability to connect with each soul in existence. If this is correct, then he could wield any Weapon. That, just as his raw power and amazingly strong and stable connection with the Thompson sisters, places him on another level when compared with the others. Unfortunately, Blackstar seems to be taking that on a personal level…

Using Tsubaki’s chain scythe mode, Blackstar destroyed a straw man in a matter of seconds.

“This is far too easy!” the boy yelled. “We should be practicing real combat!”

He turned around and fixed his gaze on Kid, who rested under the shade of a tree.

“What do you say?!” the blue-haired boy yelled, pointing a finger at him. “Just you and me, without the Weapons!”

“Blackstar, I don’t think-” Soul began, with a nervous voice, but Dr. Stein interrupted him.

“It’s not a bad idea,” the scientist stated. On his face, there was the same expression he had when planning a new experiment, or whenever he was about to dissect a rare specimen…

Kid did not say anything but he got up and calmly approached Blackstar. Sid eyed the two boys with worry. Of course, he knew Blackstar was an excellent fighter. The boy had challenged and defeated everyone in the PHYSICS Division. But Sid knew that everyone back there was human. His instincts screamed at him that the yellow-eyed kid was something different, something else entirely. Something deadly…

“Don’t worry,” a feminine voice said. Sid looked towards the person now standing next to him, and found Maka Albarn. “You can trust Kid.”

“What is he, exactly?” he asked the girl, almost in a whisper.

Maka did not answer immediately. After a pause, she stated:

“Kid's in our side.”

“You mean the Foundation’s side?” Sid asked her, narrowing his eyes.

“Humanity’s side.”

The man bit his lip and focused on the two boys in front of them. Blackstar rushed to punch and kick, again and again, but Kid was faster than him, and easily evaded every hit. Sid Barret blinked. Hand to hand combat was Blackstar specialty, and he could see the boy was fighting with all he had. But it was as if his adversary was only playing. The minutes passed, and Sid saw the layer of cold sweat forming on the blue-haired boy’s skin, his moves slowing as his muscles began to tire, while his opponent stood firm, controlled and at ease, not even out of breath.

With every hit that missed his objective, with every strike that was effectively blocked, Blackstar felt angrier. He did not like that there could be someone faster than him, or stronger, or more powerful. He had to be the best.

However, beyond all that, there was something right now that truly infuriated him. Kid was not even attacking…

“You are containing!” Blackstar yelled.

“Of course. This is just a practice.”

“Our enemies won’t contain!” Blackstar roared as he charged against Kid as fast as he could, prepared to hit with all his strength. But before he realized, his adversary had used his own momentum to make him trip and fall, spinning over the ground.

“This isn’t over!” Blackstar yelled, getting up quickly.

“It is for now,” Dr. Stein stated. “It’s time for us to return to the Site.”

“You think you’re too much for me?” Blackstar uttered, as he saw them leave. “I’ll prove you wrong!”

Blackstar possesses a violent energy, and an unstoppable drive within him. His connection with Tsubaki, his calm and pacific Weapon, provides a much-needed equilibrium.

On a side note, Agent White has been of great help. I was unsure of involving him with this at first, in fear that he could reveal our secret to the Foundation. But he compromised, from the very beginning. If what I could recover about him is true, he had a high rank in another Site's security team, but was demoted because of voicing his disagreement with some of the Foundation’s procedures. And, if my perception is accurate, he honestly wishes for peace.

I would like to say that

Truth is

I don’t know for how much longer I will be able to keep on helping the team. The visions have become more frequent, and…

Frank N. Stein stopped writing on the journal and exhaled the smoke of his cigar. The room, of dark gray walls, was barely illuminated by a pair of old lamps, and the soft glow of his computer. Still, he was capable of distinguishing in the penumbra the tall cabinets with dozens of disordered books and jars of all kinds of samples, the various boxes on the floor, filled with documents he had found in the basement, and the wrinkled, stitched lab coat hanging on a perch, next to his equally stitched couch.

No matter since how long he had lived here, he still could not see this place as a home, but rather, as another workplace. He had actually worked here, a long time ago, before joining the Foundation. This old structure had once belonged to Prometheus Labs, and after the whole organization was dismantled, he acquired this small, worn building for a bargain price.

He got up and filled again the coffee maker. He did not want to fall asleep, not yet. He thought, he feared, that he did not have much more time left with this clarity of mind. The visions had not only become more frequent, but also more horrifying. There was not only the strange being with three red eyes, now there were hideous clown-like figures accompanying it, each time more and more.

He tried not to think about that. He poured another cup of steaming coffee and sat in front of his computer. The concept of resonance had given him an idea. If two, even three souls could be linked together and amplify each other, what could happen with more?

With five, six, seven?

He started typing his hypothesis on the keyboard.

“Chain team-resonance…”

Chapter Text

“Is this all?” Maka asked.

“It is all,” Kim replied.

They had met in a bench, in the park. The blonde girl looked down at the sheet of paper, with the simple draw of eight concentric rhombus.

“I mean, just this?” Maka asked the witch. “There are no more details? Symbols, writing in runes?”

“Well…” Kim said, with a hint of exasperation. “I guess you could write stuff around the edges if you want to, but those would be mere decorations.”

Maka looked again at the draw, skeptical.

“It’s quite powerful,” Kim insisted. “It would be much more in three dimensions, though.”

“How much more will this help me to reach?” Maka asked the other girl.

“We can’t know it, yet. It will depend directly on your own capabilities.”

In the cafeteria and common area of Site-17, Liz, Patty and Kid were listening to the narration of one of SCP-507’s adventures.

“The city, the houses and the streets, they were not that different from those in our world,” described the dimensional hopper. “The sun had already set, but the sky was still illuminated, in color red. I looked up, and… I saw…” The blond man paused, unable to continue, horror and disgust on his face.

“What? What did you see, Steve?” Patty asked him, eager to know what happened next.

“Among the clouds, barely above them,” the man finally said, “I saw… a gigantic black sphere, glinting in the twilight.”

“What the hell was that?” Liz questioned.

“I asked the people around, and they all gave the same answer,” the man said. “They told me that, that thing… was the moon.”

“Why was it black?” the older Thompson asked.

“They said the blackness around it... it was all blood.”

“SCP-8842.” Maka’s sudden voice, spoken firmly, made Liz jump. She had not noticed the moment in which the young researcher had appeared behind them. “I require you to come with me.”

Maka had practically grown up in this place. Since she was younger, she took most of her studies within the Site, like many children of researchers. She knew where the microphones were and were not, which were the camera’s blind spots and the less watched rooms. She and Kid walked through the white galleries into a hidden, grey hallway in penumbra.

“Did I tell you that I’ve been in contact with Kim Diehl?” she questioned him.

“You mentioned it,” the boy answered in a monotone.

“I asked her for something,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow. “A magic circle, designed to expand the reaches of Soul Perception.” Maka observed his soul carefully to assess his reaction. There was a flare of surprise, of unease.

“What do you think, about using magic?” she decided to ask him directly.

“It’s got its risks,” he simply said, his indifferent voice not showing the feelings she could see.

“I asked for it, for you.”

It was then that not only his soul changed, but also his face, showing shock.

“What?” he said, some kind dread spilling on his voice for the first time.

“You know my father’s soul,” Maka explained him. “You could search for him, you could find him!”

“Maka did, did you tell Kim about who-”

“No, of course not!” she hurried to say before he could finish. “I told her the spell was for me.”

Maka wondered how he felt exactly about magic and witches. She remembered things Kim had told her, about Death hating magic and hunting witches, without regards on what their intentions were, for the mere crime of being what they were.

Though, even if that was true, the kid in front of her was not the one who had done all that…

But could he be that different?

The question sounded almost like an affirmation when Maka whispered:

“You don’t trust witches?”

“Magic is not a simple thing,” Kid replied, after a pause. “It’s not a recipe to simply share, it is intricate, it is-”

“But, Kid,” she insisted, “if the Insurgency has my father…”

Maka interrupted herself, biting her lip. If the witch girl had grown up listening to horror stories about Death, the young researcher had grown up hearing terrifying tales about… too many things. However, the rumors, no, the facts she knew about the Chaos Insurgency, were the worst. Maybe because the stories about the SCPs could be very scary, but in the end, most of them were witness to the Foundation’s success, and helped her understand just from what they were protecting the world. Maybe there were still too many unknown horrors waiting to be contained; maybe there were still many hostile organizations threatening reality from unsuspected corners. But those things felt different, distant. The Insurgency, on the other hand, was such a close, intimate fear; the rebel faction had been born from the Foundation itself, comprised of people just like her. It was a mirrored reflection of what the Foundation, of what she could become. Maybe of what they all truly were, deep inside. A crushing chaos, behind a façade of order.

Now, they had her father, and were doing to him the kind of things not even the SCP Foundation at its worst would do.

Or at least, she wanted to believe her group wouldn’t…

“We don’t know what exactly the true purpose of this spell is,” uttered the boy, thinking aloud. Lost within her reflections, Maka had almost forgotten he was there. He went on: “It could range from a wish to see beyond, to a release of full potential. And we don’t know what consequences that might have…”

The silence that followed was sepulchral. Maka’s jaw was set, and her green eyes started to fill with tears. Kid was looking away.

Who was he, again?

“Don’t you care about him?” she suddenly said, trying to suppress a sob. “Can you even care?”

He still avoided her eyes, his face inexpressive, but Maka could perceive the spike of pain in his soul. She felt struck by the certainty that she had been unjust. This creature, this kid, had subjected himself to the scientist’s experiments, so humanity could be better prepared for what was coming…

She looked down with guilt, without hope.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. You, I… I know you do.”

“Let me see it,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“The magic design, let me see it.”

The design was simple. Symmetrical. It even felt familiar, like something he would doodle. Kid didn’t know much about other forms of magic besides his own, but this design not seem to be made to enhance his own power, but rather to amplify the surroundings, the information the user could receive.

Liz and Patty were helping them to paint the design on the floor of the crafts room, using different available paints for or each of the concentric rhombus, the result being quite colorful. Each of the vertexes pointed at one of the four cardinal directions, as instructed by the witch.

“So we are doing… witchcraft?” Liz asked Maka.

“We call it thaumatology,” Maka explained. “But, yes. You can say it’s witchcraft.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to do this under your laboratory conditions?” the older Thompson asked the researcher, narrowing her eyes.

“This is off record,” Maka answered, without looking at her.

“But you are sure it is… safe?” Liz questioned, lowering her voice. There was a reason why even Mr. Marshall avoided dealing with witches.

“Sure!” Maka said, but her tone did not convince Liz. She turned her head a bit, fixing her blue eyes on the boy, who was carefully completing a line in the other side of the room. She tried to think that her fears were exaggerated, as they could be sometimes. Even if this experiment were dangerous, Liz knew the boy was strong, she had experienced his power firsthand, had felt that dark, stormy ocean within him. Nevertheless, she was still assaulted by ideas about what could have happened to him, if the MTF had waited just waited a couple more minutes outside of the Broken God’s temple. Or if she and her sister had escaped back then, abandoning him…

“What do I do now?” Kid asked, when he saw the design was complete.

“Well, Kim explained that I should simply sit in the center and activate my Soul Perception,” said Maka.

Kid walked carefully of not stepping over the still fresh lines, and reached the center. He sat on his knees, minding the closest paint. Fortunately, the margins of the square in the center left an area spacious enough.

He focused, and saw immediately the souls in front of him, the three of them blue and recognizable as human, but all of them very different from each other. His gaze lingered for a moment in one of them, the one with the deepest shade of blue, just like the oceans in her eyes…

His vision then amplified and he could see the entirety of Site-17, the researchers in their laboratories, the souls of the prisoners within their rooms, the janitors cleaning the hallways and the security guards walking near the exits. He expanded his sight and soon perceived the small towns around; however, this was something he could do before, with little effort.

He soon reached a Global Occult Coalition base where he could recognize familiar souls, and then his vision expanded beyond. He could see the spirits of the wild life in the arid desert, then those in the far mountains and in the forests. He could see clearly the large cities in the closer states, the glow of the thousands of souls illuminating them like the lights at night.

Now, he was approaching the limits of what his perception had normally allowed him to reach. He wondered how much the magic design would help him to jump past that edge. He pushed a bit, and managed to gaze beyond. He surpassed the borders of the country, and saw the largest cities of the neighbor nation and the multiple lifeforms populating the waters and the lands. He saw in relief a small group of familiar people, safe for now, but scared.  However, the Weapon was not amongst them. He focused on his memory of the red haired man, with his dumb jokes and easy laugh, his brave, broken heart…

His vision expanded in the four cardinal directions and he became able to see half of the continent. The boy pushed further, striving to reach the whole hemisphere, until, suddenly, he felt something crack, in his head, or maybe in his mind. Distantly, he heard himself scream, as in front of his gaze, greater distances and spaces were revealed.

He suddenly saw the entirety of the oceans and then both poles. He saw the spirit of Fear wandering the Earth, but could not pinpoint the precise location. He could not even focus on the planet anymore.

Now he was seeing empty black, suddenly crossed by spinning spheres…

Kid observed in bewilderment the peaceful souls within the colossal orbs. Then, he perceived a joyful spirit, made of fire. Its warm energy felt like laughter. It was the Sun.

His sight continued expanding, exponentially. Before he realized, he was seeing the free spirits of traveling comets. The boy felt disoriented and dizzy, but the information kept coming in, like a torrent through a destroyed dam. He witnessed the birth of new lights, within far away nebulae. He perceived distant, populated worlds and felt dying stars. 

The girls were saying something, frantically, but he could not pay them attention to them. Their desperate voices, the rest of the sounds in the room and the pain in his head felt so far away.

His senses were overwhelming, with the vertigo of planets spiraling into destruction, the burning of agonizing red giants, the blinding lights of supernovas, and still beyond, beyond…

“We were painting, and then he… he dismayed!” Patty explained the guards, as they followed her into the crafts room. Dr. Stein had arrived quickly, the scientist was crouching next to Maka, above the unconscious boy. A staff nurse was busy checking the boy’s vital signs, while Dr. Stein checked the pupils with a small lamp.

“Dr. Stein... we used a spell,” Maka addmited. “I asked a witch for it.”

Stein’s eyes opened wide.

“Bring Bes!” he urged. The girl nodded, got up in a jump and ran out of the room.

“Kid?” Liz called, as one of the guards pushed her back gently.

“Please, let the doctor work,” the guard told her.

“Kid?!” Liz called again, anguish in her voice.

“Signs are within parameters,” the nurse stated.

“The light response is normal,” concluded Stein.

In less than a minute, Maka reappeared, SCP-208 coming by her side.

“Bes, we need help!” the scientist called. “He might be under malignant influence.”

Stein knew that if the boy were under the effects of a curse, the healer would not only detect it, but could also drive it away using his wavelength. The Egyptian man crouched next to Dr. Stein, and hoovered a hand over the boy, closing his deep brown eyes, as he searched for traces of dark magic. There was a serious frown on his face, the grave expression a contrast with his usually cheerful demeanor.

“There is no evil intent,” he finally declared, solemnly. “But his soul… It’s exhausted.”

It was then that Stein paid closer attention the pattern on the floor, already distorted by the multiple steps above the paint.

“Let’s take him to the medical wing.”

The sun was already setting that afternoon, as Maka and the sisters waited in a couch in the medical wing. Inside the light gray room, the boy seemed to be asleep. Bes told them that all they could do now was let him rest and wait. Maka’s face was dark, her gaze fixed on the floor. Liz wouldn’t look at her, but that was the less of her worries now.

After she explained Dr. Stein what they had done, he had given her the biggest reprimand she had ever received. And God, he was right. He had compared the magic circle they used to a telescope, and such instruments were not toys. Used incorrectly, they could damage the eye beyond reparation...

Agent White appeared by the door, distracting her from her thoughts.

“Elizabeth, Patricia…” he called. “It’s time for you to go back to your quarters.”

“Please! Let us stay here,” Patty pleaded. “Just today!”

“I’m sorry, that’s not up to me to allow,” the Agent replied.

“I’ll stay with him,” Maka uttered, barely looking up. The sisters left with White, and she stayed alone.

It was many hours later, almost midnight, when the boy opened his eyes again. He blinked, his vision was clear, both of them. Maybe it was his imagination, but the souls around looked brighter, cleaner, as he gazed around the room and beyond the walls. The boy closed his eyes and took a hand to his head. There was still some vertigo, and the distressing sensation of immensity from the recent experience.

And also, frustration.

Maka realized he was awake and approached him.

“Kid, how are you?”

He looked at her through squinted eyes, glowing gold in the penumbra, and she stopped advancing. His soul was difficult to read sometimes, but he seemed to be filled with so many emotions right now, confusion, unease, a lingering pain and… anger, definitely anger.

Maka felt her hands starting to sweat. He had every right to be angry.

“I’m sorry…” he finally mumbled, turning his gaze away from her. “I could not find him.”

She understood he was not even angry with her. That was, somehow worse.

“No, Kid, I… I’m sorry I pushed you to try it,” she quickly answered.

The boy looked around, at the light gray, austere room of the medical wing, at the metallic cabinets in both sides, with carefully organized medications. Each object around was perfectly in order, and he thought he loved this place.

“Don’t be sorry,” he mumbled. “I could see others...”

“What, who?”

“That day, when the Insurgency came, they not only took Spirit, but also many of the people from our town. I had been looking for them, too.”

Maka knew the Insurgency often took prisoners to use them in their experiments and as expendable personnel. Just like the SCP Foundation used the D-Class. Her first thought was that they should inform the Foundation, they could send a MTF to assault the place and release them…

But, what if the Insurgency also had captured anomalies in the same place? The Foundation wouldn’t set them free.

She closed her fists.

“We must reunite the team.”

“You know? When you said we would borrow an official Foundation vehicle, I did not imagine this,” Soul told Maka, as he observed the bright red van, with the large design of a pizza on the side, and ‘Spicy Crust Pizzeria’ written in striking yellow.

“WHAT!” Blackstar exclaimed, “Spicy Crust Pizzeria belongs to the Foundation?!”

“Yeah, it’s one of our fronts!” Agent White laughed.

“Don’t all of these vehicles have a… GPS or something?” questioned Liz, squinting her eyes.

“We’ve hacked the system,” explained Agent White. “If you ask the Foundation, we’ll be spending the whole night in Summer Cycling Park.”

“After your achievements in your last missions,” added Dr. Stein, looking at Kid and the sisters, “the Committee was interested in more training. It was easy to convince them that we needed to evaluate your performance at night.”

The scientist opened the back doors of the van as the agent took the driver’s seat.

“Can you believe it?” Blackstar angrily told Soul, as he sat next to him inside the van. “For me to come here, Sid told everyone that I was sick and needed to rest!”

“Is there, something wrong with that?” Soul asked him.

“Of course it is!” exclaimed the blue-haired boy. “They will never believe that, they’re going to suspect!”

After a couple of hours of travel, during which the late afternoon became the night, they arrived to the place Kid had pinpointed in the map. It seemed to be an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of a large city.

“There are kishins inside the building,” Kid said, observing intently the place, both Stein and Maka following with their own sights, as the rest watched them. “There are many floors below. I only see human souls down there, probably insurgents. The prisoners are the lowest level.”

“Ok, team,” said Stein. “Maka and Blackstar will fight the kishins. Kid, you’ll go down and release the prisoners.”

“Ha! I’m sure that just Tsubaki and I are more than enough to finish them all!” Blackstar exclaimed; Maka narrowed her eyes at him and Soul looked down.

“I don’t think so,” Stein replied. “White and I will stay with you and cover the exit. Are you ready?”

The Weapons transformed in bolts of bright light.

Even when focused in using his developed techniques to fight the monsters, Stein took the time to observe the teenagers as they fought.

“TAKE THAT, MONSTER!” Blackstar yelled and as he swung the chain scythe’s blades against a kishin. The boy seemed especially enthusiastic about the battle. “YEAH, I’M AWESOME!”

Maka screamed in pure rage as she used the Demon Scythe to slice across the creatures, a pair of them finally turning into smoke, leaving their red souls behind. Maybe the girl didn’t have the strength or raw power of the others, but she compensated with ferocity.

When the last kishin expired, the Weapons returned to human form.

Soul thought it was going to be different. Just before this, he had wondered if he would be able to sleep at night after experiencing the sensation of cutting and slicing another living creature with his weapon form, no matter how evil those beings could be. But, as disturbing as it had been, it was as if those things were not flesh and bone anymore. The monstrous bodies did not fall, did not bleed. They just transformed into dark smoke, as if they had always been just that, leaving behind those red, glowing orbs.

“So… I just, eat them?” Soul asked Maka, observing one of the three souls they had collected. Even though he made the question, a part of him already knew what he had to do. The red soul attracted him like a magnet, making his mouth water as nothing had before. He took one of them and tasted a soul for the first time. 

A bunch of armed insurgents was heading to the commotion in the upper level. Kid could pinpoint precisely each of their locations. All of them were human.

“Liz, Patty. We have make the bullets nonlethal,” he whispered, and the girls’ faces in the barrels nodded.

The insurgents had no time to react as the boy came out of the shadows, firing the twin guns in quick succession. They were all down before they could even realize what was happening.

This was not new to Liz. To work with a team, and fight her way into a building in order to reach an objective. She had done it for Marshall before. She remembered that most of the time, they were sent to retrieve objects. However, there had been occasions when she had to take people to the cruel man. She thought about it, how she tried not to look at their faces, as she harshly ordered them to keep on walking, her sister’s weapon form pointed at their backs. That was the deal with Marshall, she had to do it, so her sister had food to eat and clothes to wear. If they refused, both would be items in the next auction. Or, they would meet a more definitive fate, if Marshall considered they knew too much.

That had been the entire purpose of their last “job”, hadn’t it?

However, as they made their way to the lower levels, she decided that was all in the past. This time, they were breaking into that place, not by the orders of someone they feared, but in the hands of someone they trusted. This time, they would not to deprive people from their freedom, but rather, release them from ruthless captors. A part of her knew this would never make up for the things she had done, but maybe this could be a start. Maybe she could be different, maybe she could be what she never imagined…

The boy finally reached the dungeons. Inside the cells, there were people of all ages, from old adults to children. Liz heard the people inside talk in a language she could not understand.

“Strigo, estas vi?” a woman with gray braids asked in a weak voice, approaching the iron bars from the closest cell.

“Ni helpos vin!”  Kid replied. A double shot was enough to break the metallic locks and open the cells as the people inside rushed to escape.  

It was still dark, some hours later, when the Spicy Crust Pizzeria van, and a pair of large vehicles stolen from the Insurgency, arrived to a hidden Foundation safe house, a cabin in the woods, not too far from Site-17.

“Our first mission together, it’s been a complete success!” Blackstar yelled, as he punched Soul in the shoulder, maybe a bit too hard. But Soul knew the blue-haired boy meant him no harm. To be a Coalition agent, that Blackstar was very cool.

It was almost like when he met Kim Diehl, there was no way to compare her with the witches from old fairytales. Maybe she looked kind of angry and yelled a lot, but the pink-haired witch had saved his life before, and today, she came quickly to give her help to all the wounded and sick among the rescued.

Soul sat in a rustic couch, close to a fireplace, next to one of the Thompson girls. Soul noticed she looked completely exhausted, unlike her younger sister, who still seemed to have a lot of energy within her. Both Soul and Liz watched Patty as she played with the children they had released, her enthusiasm above any language barrier. The red-eyed boy still couldn’t believe the pair of sisters had worked for MC&D. He looked around the cabin’s living room, at the people they had just saved, at the creepy doctor of the screw next to a window, sharing his cigarretes with an old man; then at Blackstar and Tsubaki laughing together. At Maka, engrossed in a discussion with agent White.

Just a couple of months ago, he was having nightmares about the people who were now his… teammates. The whole turn of events still surprised him. Next to him, the blue-eyed girl also seemed to be submerged in reflections of her own.

“I can’t believe it, I mean…” Soul tried to express. “I never imagined that people like us, that we could be…”

“I know!” Liz replied. “Heroes.”

Kim Diehl worked, healing the wounds of the people reunited in the cabin. Tsubaki had somehow managed to convince her to come and provide her services to the people they had just rescued from the clutches of the Madmen, also known as the Chaos Insurgency. Most of the people were unscathed, but others had not been so lucky. Kim knew it was highly unlikely she would be paid for this, however, as they thanked her effusively in their mother tongue, she felt she wouldn’t mind too much this time. The magic within her always called to be used: to heal what hurt, to fix what was broken and to relieve pain. Not that it couldn’t be really exhausting sometimes.

As she finished healing a woman with long, gray braids, the strange yellow-eyed kid approached them. Kim took a pair of steps back to give them space, as he exchanged some words with the woman, in their strange language. For what the others told her, the boy knew all these people from before. Apparently, they all were from his small town of origin.

A place whose name or location he did not share. Just another suspicious detail to add to the growing list.

“Ni sciis vi venus por nin, Strigo,” the woman of the braids told Kid.

“Mi bedaŭras, ke ĝi prenis min tiel longe,” the boy answered.

“Vi estas ĉi tie nun,” the woman said with a warm expression.

Kim turned around quietly and walked away from the scene, going into one of the empty rooms in penumbra, on her shoulder the backpack where she kept healing potions and ointments. She didn’t need to look at her watch to know the sun would soon appear in the horizon. She just wanted this to end soon, so she could return home.

Home. That was for her the Wanderer’s Library, as it was for so many lost creatures. The place she had lived in for most of her 17 years.

From where she was standing, she still could hear voices in the other room, speaking in that mysterious tongue. She felt a wave of vertigo and wanted to sit down for a moment, but there was no furniture inside this room. Using her healing magic this much always left her very tired, but the dizziness she was feeling right now had another origin…

That boy…

She remembered what Tsubaki told her, just two weeks before. About the red souls, how the kid summoned them out of nowhere and simply held them on his hands. When Kim heard that, she strove not show on her face all the fears such narration was awakening within her.

Kim had tried to watch Kid more carefully this time, she had observed more closely the stripes on his hair. If those lines were what she now thought they were…

Could it be..?

She turned around, and jumped when she saw he was behind her.

“Kid! Wha-what are..? Why are you..?” she stuttered, unable to finish any of the questions.

“Kim…” he spoke, and it had to be the darkness, or the strange reverberation of this particular room, or maybe just the exhaustion, because even though his tone was casual and ordinary, she felt a primal fear crawling within her when she heard his voice calling her name. A sudden disquiet that made her heart accelerate, that raised the short hair on the nape of her neck…

She felt her body completely paralyzed, when the boy suddenly closed the distance between them.

He opened his arms and hugged her.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

It was so quick, only a few seconds before he let go of her. Kim was stunned, and a part of her noticed that the boy seemed to be a bit surprised of himself, too.

“For... what?” she mumbled. For healing his friends? For joining this cause? For… something more?

“For everything…” the boy said, taking a couple of soundless steps back, right before leaving the room.

Some hours later, Kim and Tsubaki were on their way back to the Library. Soul’s worried friends did not have to wait for him anymore, and Blackstar was back in the GOC headquarters. Meanwhile, the Spicy Crust Pizzeria van was heading back to Site-17. Agent White was driving again, Dr. Stein in the copilot seat, while in the back, the sisters slept laying over the seats, as Maka and Kid remained awake.

"Agent White will falsify some documents, explaining that all of them were rescued from a hostile group in a classified mission and need our protection," Maka said, and smiled. "No lie there!"

Kid listened to her, as his mind flashed back to his hometown and its people. He sighed quietly as he remembered how, even though he had been created to resemble humans, he had always felt there was an unbridgeable distance between those people and him, like he could never be one of them, not truly. Even when they smiled and welcomed him, an undeniable disquiet was ever present within their souls.

After all, many people, who did not even know his secret, seemed to instinctively fear what existed within him.  

Maka interpreted differently the frown that darkened his face.

"Don't worry about them," she said. "If the Foundation has something, it's funds. They'll be okay."

He turned his gaze back to her, this girl who was his friend, despite the fear she never denied.   

"Thank you," he uttered, and they were silent for a few minutes. The truth was, today he felt completely different about so many things. Perhaps, he had always been way closer to those people than he ever believed. Maybe the distance he always felt... was placed there by himself. Kid looked at the sisters, who felt safe enough to sleep by his side. Both siblings had touched his soul, had catched glimpses of his very essence, and never alarmed. Not even Liz, who was afraid of so many things. He looked at the sleeping girl; despite the dark, his sharp eyesight could make out her beautiful features.

She trusted him...

If he told her the truth...

“I was worried the magic could have… harmed you, somehow,” Maka said suddenly.

“I’m okay, really,” he answered, with a smile.

“I considered that we could tell Kim the truth,” Maka admitted. “But then, she told me about legends where…” the girl hesitated, but finally continued, “where the Grim Reaper hunted witches.” As she saw the kid’s smile disappear, she regretted instantly having brought up that. “But, of course! I know those are myths, just stori-”

“It is true,” he stated.

“It… it is?” she asked, unable to hide the shock in her voice.

“My Father…” he mumbled after a pause, “He would take the lives of those who, He considered, could threaten reality. For Him, every magic user could become such menace.”

Maka opened her mouth, but no sound came out. In her mind, appeared the image of the dark entity her mother had described on her diary. She could understand better the tremor in Kim’s voice when she whispered to her about such stories.

On the other hand, every Foundation operative knew of the dangers that someone powerful enough could pose to reality…

She did not need to assist to Dr. Clef’s seminar to imagine just what that could entail. The girl grasped the armrest with her hand, trying to hold on to something solid, because, even though the idea of reality being something fragile was not new to her, the thought still made her dizzy.

She could also attribute some of the unsteadiness she was feeling to the reminder that the boy was something so essentially different from her. Sometimes, she truly forgot with whom she was talking. A force of nature, disguised as a child, for reasons she may never comprehend. Maka wondered just what he saw through his strange eyes. Even though they shared a rare ability, she knew they did not experience it in the same way.

If she had used the magic circle, she would not have seen the same things he saw when he was in there...

“Father said no one could resist the sway of magic,” he stated, suddenly. “But such words are unjust. It is true, magic can pull its user towards the most destructive instincts. But those instincts are within everyone, balanced with creation.” He narrowed his eyes, looking intently at nothing in particular. “Because just as creation is necessary, there are also things that need to be destroyed.”

The van stopped, as they were back in Site-17.

Chapter Text

SCP Foundation, Site-17, Conference Room A-2

(Slide show displays Map-567)

Agent [REDACTED]: This is the small area, in █████, Alaska, that presents spatial and temporal distortions. We still don’t know the characteristics or full extent of this phenomenon, but it seems to share some characteristics with those found in places affected by reality-benders.

Dr. █████: In conclusion, we believe we’ve found the anomalous tool denominated BREW.

Agent White: So... this reality-bending object, is still active?

Dr. Stein: Not exactly. Apparently, it activated once, and created that field. 

Agent [REDACTED]: That's not all. Our Intelligence operatives discovered that the Chaos Insurgency has found it, too. They might be heading there as we speak.

Dr. Noah E████: What?! We need to act now!

Dr. █████: But, if the Chaos insurgency is there, they’ll be prepared for war. To retrieve it will be a difficult and dangerous task.

Director [REDACTED]: It's true. You must know this, we've been informed that recently, SCP-990 appeared to one of our researchers. The warnings were vague, but the SCP was aware of our enemies’ progress, and implied that the Foundation would have to join other forces to stop them.

Dr. Bright: This object, it can warp reality. Our protocol regarding such threats is elimination; on that, we agree with the Global Occult Coalition.

Director [REDACTED]: We need to contact them.

From: GOC High Command
To: Director [REDACTED], Site-17
Re: Operation “TEMPEST”
CC: Central Offices

The Global Occult Coalition and the SCP Foundation are in accord on the importance of decommissioning the object denominated “BREW” (KTE-5346, Clockwork-Parallax), as it implies a high risk to the stability of reality. This Threat Entity represents a danger for the Coalition’s First and Second Missions. Given this, as well as the involvement of the para-terrorist organization “The Chaos Insurgency”, we agree that a quick response must be effected, in a cooperative mission.  Assessment Team "Ocean Thunder," based out of Dutch Harbor, Alaska, as well as Strike teams from the PHYSICS Division will be deployed immediately.

The Global Occult Coalition stands ready to defend humanity.

Signed,

<SIGNATURES REDACTED: CLASSIFIED LEVEL Q BY ORDER OF GOC HIGH COMMAND>

“I think it’s better, if you don’t come this time.”

“What?”

“Soul, the GOC will be there!”

“So? You will all be going.”

“It’s different.”

“Why?”

Maka bit her lip. Through the phone, she heard his demanding voice, but could only imagine the expression on his face. She whispered on the receiver.

“Blackstar can hide Tsubaki very easily. And the Foundation will protect Kid and the sisters. But you'd be on danger.”

When they finally hung up, Soul perceived mixed feelings. He wouldn’t deny there was a sensation of relief. But at the same time, he was fearful for Maka’s safety, she would face the dangers unarmed. An instinct had arisen within him, one that told him that he had to protect her, do everything in his power to keep her safe. He wondered if she felt the same, and if that was the reason why she did not want him to take these risks. He tried not to listen to the now familiar voice of the red devil within his mind, saying that other was the true reason…

She thought he was too weak.

Global Occult Coalition Casefiles

Excerpt from PHYSICS Division Threat Entity Database

Threat ID: KTE-5346, Clockwork-Parallax

Authorized response level: 4 (Severe threat)

Description: According to information provided by The Foundation, this mechanical object has the appearance of a cubical, metallic box. Its function is related to a form of reality bending, and it is able to create distortions in space and time, representing a danger to the stability of our reality. For this reason, the decommission of this object is a priority.

Rules of engagement: Neutralization, in cooperation with the SCP Foundation through Operation “TEMPEST”.

The Foundation and GOC vehicles met in a small port. From there, they would travel by ship to the island where the tool was found.

In the Foundation flanks, all in white uniforms, Kid was the only one who was not wearing a helmet, as he had claimed that it would only limit his senses. His clothing was also very light, he did not seem to mind the low temperatures, the freezing cold air on his face as he watched the horizon, his strange black and white locks agitating in the wind.

From the other side of the small port, the GOC agents were eyeing the strange boy with mistrust. They had heard some rumors about the Skippers bringing “special assets”.

“PTE-1110, Red-Kewpie,” one of the Coalition commanders told his team, pointing discreetly at the strange kid. “Potential Threat Entity, like every Foundation operative. They informed us about it. Do not engage, unless it becomes hostile.”

“Type Red? A regenerator?” Kilik mumbled. 

“See, I told you,” Ford told him, on a hushed voice. “Sometimes, they take their monsters to the field.”

The weird boy they were watching from a distance suddenly turned his face towards them and fixed his yellow eyes on Ford. The Coalition agent held his breath. Had that thing heard him?

Halfway to the island's coast, the Coalition ships changed their direction.

"Where are they going?" Maka asked, watching them through the window.

“We’ve just confirmed the Insurgency is there,” Max Lombardi explained. “The Gocks are specialist in battle; we’re specialists in retrieval. Our forces and theirs will arrive from different sides of the island…”

Dr. Noah extended a map on a table, surrounded by the gathered operatives.

“And while the Coalition forces fight against the Insurgency," the scientist said, pointing at specific areas in the map, "MTF Lambda-5, White Rabbits, along with the three SCPs, will enter the distorted field and retrieve the anomalous item. MTF Delta-8, Taggers, will be guarding the place.”

“8842 will recognize the object,” Dr. Stein said, looking at the boy, who nodded, Liz and Patty in weapon form already on his hands.

The White Rabbit’s Commander turned towards his team. “Remember, our specialists determined that we can stay in the magnetic field for only 20 minutes, before our bodies start deteriorating. We need to act quickly.”

Intercepted GOC Communication, from mobile command:

“Now! Go, go, go!”

“Hostile forces at five o’clock”

“Oh my God, are you seeing what I see?”

“Damn it! It’s enormous!”

“What the hell is that?”

“No idea!”

“It’s coming this way!”

“Shot it, shot it-” (transmission lost)

“Lopez! López! Are you still there?”

“No time to lose! Keep blasting the damn thing!”

“We are trying! It’s not going down!”

“Damn! There are more coming.”

“One down, finally… oh no, it’s rising agai-”(transmission lost)

“Commander, please, you need to listen…”

“Who’s this?!”

“This is Dr. Noah, from the Foundation. Those things are Golems. Can you see a large word written on their bodies?”

“Yes, but how does that-”

“Tell your team they need to eliminate the first letter. It is the best way to destroy them.”

“Did you hear that? Target that first letter!”

“Roger!”

“It’s working, it’s really working, they’re falling down!”

“But, how?”

“The word ‘emet’ means truth. Erase the first letter, and it says ‘met’, which means dead.”

The samurai watched the advancing GOC forces. Somehow, they had discovered the way to effectively vanquish Giriko’s golems. He could hear the man’s screams, as he used the chains of his weapon form to attack the GOC agents.

“The mighty Coalition… You bastards killed her!!”  Giriko roared.

The samurai, Mifune, felt no sympathy for the Weapon man. Their alliance was not a harmonious one. However, the Coalition was a common enemy. Mifune knew the kind of things they would do, he had seen GOC agents mercilessly kill innocent children, after coldly cataloguing them with a number and a color code. It always made his heart clench, and he thought of the little girl, the orphan witch he had taken to his care. The Coalition had killed her parents, and would have killed her too, if he had not been there.

He had doubts at first, when the Insurgency approached him. They were violent and ruthless, but then, that woman talked with him. A blonde witch, with snakes tattooed on her arms. She could understand what Angela was going through. The woman spoke about taking down the Global Occult Coalition, and ending the SCP Foundation, so no one had to live under their suffocating rules anymore. So no one had to lose their life or their freedom just for being who they were…

Unlike the Serpent’s Hand, the Insurgency was not afraid to take action, to go to forbbiden extremes, to declare open war against those implacable organizations. That was the reason why the Hand would never get very far, but the Insurgency would. The witch had promised him to keep little Angela safe, as he fought against those who threatened her.

People like these. They, who would murder children and call themselves heroes. The samurai noticed one of the agents approaching his position, and without losing time, he jumped out, his katana ready.

The GOC agent took out a tactical knife.

Both men faced each other for a couple of seconds, before Sid Barret charged against the samurai.

The White Rabbits walked through the strange tornado that whirled in the center of the island, and into the unexpected scenario of a green forest inside, with exuberant vegetation surrounding them. In a contrast with the ice-cold, stormy exterior, inside the field, it was a sunny day. Above them, the sky was clear and blue. In front of the group, there was a large, Aztec style pyramid.

Kid and the sisters had always trained and practiced in missions with the Taggers, this was the first time they were working with another MTF. The White Rabbits were specialists in traveling through unstable realities. However, after seeing the whole place be leveled in a blurring explosion, only to reappear again almost immediately, unscathed, Kid thought that this reality was far from “unstable”. On the contrary, it was abnormally stable, constantly reliving a few, fateful minutes, without possibility of change or continuity.

It was then that the group noticed that around them, many people were walking towards the high construction, their figures fading in an out of sight.

“Who are these people?” Patty asked.

“Don’t mind them, they are ghosts” Kid answered.

“Ghosts?!” Liz gasped.

“More like memories,” Kid explained. “The shadows of those present in an event that repeats itself, over and over…”

“What the hell is that?!” one of the White Rabbits suddenly exclaimed, as she raised a finger at the sky.

From her weapon form, Liz looked up and saw what the agent was pointing. The scene felt as if taken out of a nightmare:

There was a black form floating in the air, not too far from them. It was heading for the pyramid, like a dark specter in plain daylight. Liz saw the eerie, shapeless shadows; she could distinguish the jawless skull the thing had for a face…

If she had been in her human form, she would have screamed at such vision. Instead, her spirit immediately reached for the boy’s soul, for the feeling of security his presence brought to her, searching for that powerful closeness that strengthened her in the face of danger and fear. She felt the soothing contact with his soul, as he also watched the strange apparition.

Liz and her sister had since long noticed that such contact always gave them a taste of his feelings, of whatever emotion he was experiencing in that instant. The feeling she found, filling him at that very moment, was unexpected…

A deep, painful sadness.

GOC radio transmission:

“Why hasn’t Sid arrived?!”

“I don’t know.”

“We should go find him!”

“But, he told us to wait here, not to leave our positions.”

“I’m going! He might be in trouble!”

“Blackstar, wait!”

Maka observed through the window the tornado that reached the dark clouds. She and Dr. Stein were stationed inside the ship. Their mission was the less risky of all, they were supposed to retrieve information and maintain communication. Dr. Stein worked in the equipment they had brought, machines designed to measure the Hume levels of the area.

Stein was finding very difficult to focus, as sounds of screams and laughter started to drill into his ears, the voices and soon the images of the monstrous clowns were reappearing. He supposed that the closeness to the magnetic field was affecting him, even at this distance.

“Dr. Stein, are you okay?” Maka asked him.

The man took a trembling hand to his head, desperate to find the screw, and started turning it, but nothing happened, the voices and the visions kept on growing stronger. There was no respite…

“Dr. Stein..?”

A tall, muscular man came out of the pyramid. Kid recognized the soul immediately, the sight of his mismatched eyes enraged him. That man came with the Insurgency, that day. He had cast the spell that trapped his Father, while their forces destroyed his home, created chaos and released horror.

On his hands was the anomalous tool.

“That’s it,” Kid said, through gritted teeth. “It is BREW!”

“You! Deliver that thing!” the MTF commander yelled, after hearing the boy.

Every agent pointed their guns at the man.

“This place affects in many different ways, you know?” the man said with a smile. “You can’t stay here for long, before your mortal, ephemeral bodies start to disintegrate. But I am an immortal.”

His shape started changing, hair growing all over his body, long claws appeared on his hands, and his face started to distort.

“A werewolf…” one of the White Rabbits said.

The man laughed, now completely transformed into a half wolf hybrid. “I can stay here for more time than any of you can, you know?”

“FIRE!” exclaimed the commander, and the White Rabbits followed his orders. But the werewolf advanced, indifferent to the bullets and used a powerful hit of his tail to send half of the team flying some meters backwards.

“You will perish, today! I won’t! Never!” the creature roared with a manic laughter, and raised long claws ready to tear at the closest White Rabbits, who could only stare frozen in horror as their bullets did nothing...

A double blast of pink energy sent the werewolf stumbling back. The creature’s eyes opened wide in confusion, he had felt the hit on his very soul. A couple of more pink shots struck him again, and he fell heavily on his back, before a young boy, one the werewolf hadn’t even noticed before, jumped above him, two barrels pointed at his head.

“You think you can destroy everything, kill the innocent, without consequences?” the teenager hissed.

The immortal found that the boy was pinning him down with superhuman strength, one that was even beyond his own…

“Who… who the hell?” the monster uttered, with a beginning of fright.

“You think you can mock me?” the teenager growled, his bright yellow eyes narrowed at the creature.

From the ground, the werewolf could see the boy’s face, pale with rage, and the wide blue sky above them. From sideways, his eye caught the image of the late Lord of Death, the shadow once again floating towards the pyramid. The only being the immortal had ever feared. The only One that, he was certain, could finish him.

But He was gone. What they had released that day, had destroyed Him.

Or not?

Could it be? Could this kid be?

“If someone can end an immortal’s life,” the boy whispered, “it’s me.”

Kid saw the werewolf’s monstrous visage morph into an expression of utter horror, could perceive the powerful soul cowering in dread, and his fine hearing caught the sound of the creature’s breaths falling short, the racing heartbeats. A delighted smile appeared on Kid’s face as he allowed himself to feel a dark glee at his enemy’s fear.

Truth be told, he was not even sure if he could kill the creature. He wondered if it would be as easy as simply reaching for his soul to grasp it-

The werewolf pushed Kid away, fueled by the power of sheer panic, not worrying about letting go of the anomalous tool. The creature’s only thought was to get out of that place, to escape from him. He had felt this sensation only once before, the certainty that he, an immortal, was going to die. It had been that night, when they released Fear itself. It had been the madness emanated by that creature. A being whose face was strangely akin to that of this boy…

The werewolf did not think too much about that, he only ran to the edges of the field, single-minded on his objective of getting as far away as quickly as possible.

“Lombardi, we’ve got the item!” the commander said through the radio. “But there’s a werewolf! It’s going your way!”

The monster crossed the limits of the field, and found himself again in the snowy landscape of the lost island. With his magical affinity to ice and snow, he knew he had the advantage there. But his abilities were rusty, and he would not to lose time fighting now. Before the Taggers could react, the werewolf crossed their positions at a lightning speed, evading any attack directed against him.

It was then that Max Lombardi saw the blue lights signaling on the distance.

“The Coalition is winning,” he said. “The Chaos Insurgency forces are retreating.”

The White Rabbits exited the field. With them came Kid, the anomalous tool on his hands.

Blackstar ran over the top of a small hill of snow. He could see many of the Insurgency soldiers running away. But his gaze focused on two men, engrossed in a fight, one with a katana, the other with a knife. He could recognize his mentor, Sid Barret, battling bravely against his opponent.

He saw the moves, and as if in slow motion, he could see clearly what was about to happen.

Sid could not protect himself, when with a swing, the sword reached him and crossed his abdomen.

“SIIIID!!” Blackstar yelled, as he saw the man falling over the snow.

The boy ran, taking Tsubaki’s blade mode out and launching himself against the samurai, who leapt out Blackstar’s way.

“FIGHT ME!”

“You’re a kid,” the samurai said.

“I’M NOT A KID!”

“I don’t harm children,” Mifune stated, as he turned around to leave.

“You! Get back here!” Blackstar, yelled ready to run behind him.

“Blackstar! Wait!” Tsubaki called, as she escaped from his hands and transformed back into her human form. “Sid needs our help!”

She crouched over the fallen man and used her dark scarf to apply pressure over the bleeding wound.

“SID, SID!” the blue-haired boy called.

“We must take him back, I’ll help you!”

“But, Tsubaki, you… they will see you!” the boy exclaimed.

“You can’t do it alone!” the girl said. She turned her head back to look at the way they had to follow, just to find two pairs of eyes looking at them, mouth agape.

“Your blade… that blade was..?” Ford uttered, pointing a finger at Tsubaki.

“Blackstar, what the hell..?” Kilik said, also staring at the girl.

“There is no time to explain!” Blackstar exclaimed. “We need to help Sid!”

“Kid, the things you said before?”

“What things, Liz?”

“What you told the werewolf…” she whispered. Both sisters had already taken their human forms, as they headed for the coast, to the stationed ship. “What did… that all mean?”

There was suspicion in her words, but the tone was concerned. Patty was unusually silent, her light blue eyes open and curious. Kid looked sideways, at the MTF agents all around them.

“I will tell you. I will tell you both everything, I promise,” he mumbled. “Just, not here, not now...”

They reached the coast, where every Foundation operative deployed was meeting. Dr. Noah was waiting for them.

“Mission accomplished!” one the agents exclaimed, but the scientist did not look at him. His eyes were completely focused on Kid.

“8842,” Noah said. “Give it to me, give me BREW.”

Kid saw the man’s soul and abruptly stopped advancing.

“8842…” Noah called. “Give me that thing.”

Kid stood still in the same place.

The man’s teeth clenched behind his smile. He spoke gravelly, a frightening glint on his dark eyes. “8842. You have to give me the tool.”

The boy took a couple of steps back.

“No,” he said.

Liz and Patty watched the exchange, completely mute. Noah stared at the boy for a moment and grimaced.

“So, Kid… You’re not going to cooperate?”

The boy’s hands clenched on the tool. Dr. Noah stepped towards him and the boy turned around and ran, away from him and the Mobile Task Forces. The scientist turned to the reunited teams.

“What the hell are you waiting for?!” he yelled. “GO GET THE SKIP!”

“Bu-but, Doct-” one of the agents stuttered, stupefact.

“GO!” Noah roared.

Blackstar and Ford carried Sid Barret, as Kilik kept pressure over the wound. When they reached their camp, their medics took Sid inside the ship. Blackstar watched them, avoiding the pointed looks of his two friends.

Kilik’s eyes went from the sheeted blade to his friend’s face, and again to the weapon, the hilt partially visible, even as the blue haired boy kept a hand over it. But more than ready to use the weapon, it seemed as if he was trying to hide her.

“Blackstar… you have to explain-“

“Not here, okay?” the blue-haired boy said. “Not now…”

Kid tran over the hills of snow, towards the other side of the coast, the point where the Coalition’s ship had arrived. Maybe the Foundation agreed that the monstrous thing should be destroyed, but that man would not do it. He wanted BREW for himself.

The GOC would destroy it. Would not make themselves too many questions about it. Their mindset would be very useful right now. A thing like this should not even exist.

In the other side of the small hill of snow, he saw the Coalition’s operatives reuniting. As he ran down the hill, their agents seemed to notice him.

A small group of large men separated from the rest. Kid ran faster.

They pulled out their machine guns.

Kid halted the moment he heard the shooting. He felt no pain, but as he took a couple of steps back, he saw blood in the snow, and he realized they had hit him. Another wave of bullets reached him and he fell down. He heard loud yells in a voice he recognized, calling for his fellows to cease the fire. He noticed BREW was not on his hands anymore. The tool was on the snow, not too far from him, but his fingers could not reach it.

His sight felt blurred. A group of familiar men appeared in the top of the hill.

“Kid!” Lombardi called. “KID!”

The big man and the rest of the team approached him, as some of them and the Coalition agents started to yell insults at each other, but Kid was grateful that he heard no more shooting.

Lombardi tried to help the boy while one of the agents picked up BREW.

“Destroy it…” Kid told him, through clenched teeth. “Destroy that thing.”

“Kid. Let’s go back to the Site,” Lombardi said.

Inside the ship, Maka tried to talk to Dr. Stein, but it was as if the man could not listen to her, could not even see her in front of him. He was trapped in a world of horrifying fantasies. At first, he was screaming, but now he only laughed, and laughed, and laughed…

Chapter Text

Interview 8364, 1/14: Agent [REDACTED], from  Mobile Task Force Delta-8, Taggers, by Dr. M████ Diaz.

(Fragment)

Agent [REDACTED]: We really can’t believe that!

Dr. Diaz: Agent, as I said before-

Agent [REDACTED]: Sorry to interrupt, doctor, but with all due respect, we all know that man! The kind of things he does...

Dr. Diaz: This isn’t about Dr. Noah.

Agent [REDACTED]: I know, I know... but, believe me. You don’t know the kid, we've fought side by side, out there in the field. We’ve watched each other’s backs. I would trust that boy with my life…

Dr. Diaz: Please, just answer the question.

Agent [REDACTED]: Sir, we believe that…

Dr. Diaz: Did or didn’t you see SCP-8842 run away with the anomalous tool?

Agent [REDACTED]: …yes. But just consider this, why else would he run to the gocks, for goodness' sake?

Dr. Diaz: Well, according to their repports, he had "clearly hostile intent-"

Agent [REDACTED]: He only wanted that thing destroyed!

Dr. Diaz: So did we, and we already had an agreement. Dr. Noah personally took care of the object's neutralization. 

Agent [REDACTED]: Sir, I know how it sounds, but… I’m sure Ki-, SCP-8842 had real motives not to trust that man.

Note: The testimony given by Agent [REDACTED] will be considered unreliable, given that he demonstrates an emotional attachment with the SCP. –Dr. Diaz

Notification No. 73416 (Fragment)

“(…) Given Dr. Frank N. Stein’s current situation, his SCPs will be reassigned to other researchers for the time being, SCP-███ and SCP-███ will be under the charge of Dr. [REDACTED], both instances of SCP-6613 will be reassigned to Dr. Jack Bright, and SCP-8842 will be assigned to Dr. Noah E███ (…)”

Proposition for reclassification of SCP-8842 submitted to directive Committee. Dr. Noah E███

Proposition denied. Director [REDACTED]

Proposition for a re-evaluation of containment procedures for SCP-8842 submitted to directive Committee. Dr. Noah E███

Proposition denied. Director [REDACTED]

Proposition approved. O5-██

Item #: SCP-8842

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Due to his own willingness to stay in Site 17, minimum containment procedures are to be applied to SCP-8842. Due to risk of breach and reluctance to adhere to the Foundation’s regulations, more effective containment procedures are to be applied to the subject. He has been assigned a standard room for humanoid with minimal decorations; Given the considerable strength this anomaly displays, the new containment area will be a reinforced room in the Keter wing. It is worth noting that every object or furniture in the room must be maintained in an ordered and symmetrical fashion. Foundation personnel must avoid granting requests before their approval. STRICT Surveillance is to be constant during any necessary movement outside of his quarters.

Addendum: Besides the described special containment procedures, a minimum of  ████ illumination must be constantly provided, emulating the measures taken with SCP-017 and SCP-435 ("Shadow Person", "He Who Made Dark"). This shall be provided by halogen lamps with generator backups. The integrity of the lighting system must be a priority. -Dr. Noah E███

Kid’s wounds healed quickly, but left him exhausted. Unfortunately, sleeping had become very difficult because, no matter the hour, there were bright lights always on, in his new large, white room. It was a disadvantage, but if that man thought that the light would directly harm or weaken him, he was wrong.

He belonged to darkness, but light was not his enemy.

The boy remembered the endless horizon of the place where he grew up, the breathtaking dawns, the wide blue sky and the brilliant sunshine heating up the sand. Like his Father, he loved the desert and its bright days. However, he missed the darkness, the safety of the shadows. He longed for their cozy embrace, that held him like a home, reminding him of the days when he was little, and would rest sheltered on his Father’s arms.

He remembered the words He spoke. That the stars were born from the darkness, and, to it, they would always return; just like everything that exists, every creation and every soul. That nothing is ever truly lost. The boy thought of old, forgotten stories and the songs nobody would sing anymore, forever guarded, somewhere safer than memory. 

The mind could forget, but never erase the past...

If only for some instants, they existed, and nothing could negate that fact, not even oblivion.

The doors were suddenly open, taking him out from his thoughts. A group of armed guards entered to his room.

Interview 9464: Dr. Jack Bright, SCP-6613/Elizabeth, Patricia.

[REDACTED]

Dr. Bright: I’m honestly so surprised that Dr. Stein never effected any dissections on you two! That procedure can’t wait any longer!

SCP-6613/E, P: …

Dr. Bright: Hahaha just joking! God, look at your faces…

SCP-6613/E, P: …

Dr. Bright: Wanna know a fun fact? The junior researchers at my charge are called the Lucky Bunch. You know why? Because they tend to live longer. I’ll let you on a little secret: so do the scips in my charge.

SCP-6613/E, P: …

Dr. Bright: You already know the benefits of being cooperative, I’m sure we will understand each other very well!

SCP-6613/E, P: …

Dr. Bright: So, don't you have anything to say?

SCP-6613/P: When will we see Kido again?

Dr. Bright: SCP-8842’s special containment procedures have changed.

SCP-6613/E: But, how?

SCP-6613/P: Why?

Dr. Bright: Details are confidential, sorry. You don’t have to worry, though, there's nothing forbidding you two to continue participating with the Mobile Task Force.

SCP-6613/E: But, is Kid alright?

Dr. Bright: Of course! The Foundation will-

SCP-6613/P: Keep us all safe, right?

SCP-6613/E: You protect the world, and you protect us too… correct?

Dr. Bright: …

[DATA EXPUNGED]

Maka waited, on the bench outside of Dr. Stein’s room, in the Site's medical wing. She still could not believe everything that had happened. Dr. Stein had gone mad, Sid Barret had been wounded, it was possible that Blackstar and Tsubaki were discovered...

The girl took her hands to her head. She also felt very worried about what Dr. Jack Bright would do with the sisters. Maka always thought the rumours about that man's wickedness were exaggerated, simply because of the visceral terror SCP-963 provoked, but some of the stories about his most gruesome actions had to be true, at least in part. Maka tried to think that, despite it all, the man could not be completely heartless. He was truly compromised, undyingly loyal to the Foundation and their missions: to secure, to contain, to protect...

Jack Bright could be cruel, but he had deeply held principles. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about Dr. Noah. And now Kid had been reassigned to that terrible man.

And that was not all... she was also so worried by the memory of the menacing figure she saw in the dream with SCP-990. She had seen it again, a couple of times, in half remembered dreams, and each time, a litle bit more of his face was revealed. A pale face, that started to look so much like... 

Maka closed her eyes. She just wanted to see Soul again, tell him about all of this, and be held in his soothing embrace...

SCP-208 suddenly exited Dr. Stein’s room.

“Bes!” Maka called, getting up. “Bes, how is he?”

“I've been able to make the madness recede a bit, but, the effect doesn’t last long. He is sedated now.”

“Okay… Thank you, Bes.” Maka looked down and was about to leave, but the man stopped her.

“Albarn. I must tell you something,” he said and he turned around. “Come with me,” he added, motioning with his head.

Maka followed him to a large white waiting room with an enormous window. She saw him walk towards the glass. The sunlight illuminating his frame could be confused with his very soul.

“Millennia ago, I fought alongside the Lord of the Sacred Land,” Bes explained. “I helped Him guard humanity from evil and maintain balance…”

The sun warmth on the man's bronze brown skin was just like in those old days, in the desert, where Bes had witnessed the beginnings of a civilization. He could remember his long conversations with the Master of Secrets, both admiring on the distance the silhouettes of the pyramids. He always told Bes how balance was everything. The Egyptian man could understand it, he knew very well that, no matter how much the people from the Old Kingdom adored the light of the Sun, they were always thankful for the shades that offered rest and protection from its rays in the arid desert. Bes remembered the Great Old One, how He would always wear black, the color of an infinite, starless night, of the end of every existence; but also the color of the fertile earth that lined the Nile River, the darkness that gave birth to new life.

Maka watched Bes, who had gone silent, his mind lost in old memories. She was starting to grow impatient; his first sentence had awakened her curiosity.

“The Lord… of the Sacred Land?” she asked him.

“He's back,” Bes said. “I wasn't sure at first, but now I am certain. He doesn't remember me, he can’t, because he isn’t the same, not exactly…”

Maka’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth opened, but it took a big effort on her part to actually make a sound.

“Bes, you… you know who he is?”

The man nodded, his expression serious.

“Why… why are you telling me all this?”

“You will help him, now. As I did, so long ago,” the Egyptian said.

Maka was completely mute as he watched him approach her.

“Back then, I developed a technique, specialized against evil intent,” he explained, and closed his eyes as he hovered a hand over the girl’s frame. She understood he was perceiving her soul, in his own way. “I’m sure you can use it, too.”

Blackstar walked the motel’s empty hallway to the room. After checking for the hundredth time that he was not being followed, he knocked. Tsubaki opened the door quickly.

“Hey, Tsu!”

The girl thought he looked more exhausted than she had ever seen him. She hugged him as he entered the room.

“Blackstar,” she whispered against his shoulder.

He followed her and they sat on the edge of the bed.

“How is Sid?” she asked him, her tone concerned.

“He needed a surgery. He’ll need to rest for now, but the doctors say he’ll recover.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” she answered, smiling softly. “And, what about, your… friends? Have you talked with them?”

He denied with his head, and raised his hand to his forehead.

“Maybe we could explain them, like we did with-”

“No! Tsubaki…” he rushed to say, “I think it’s better if we, maybe it’s better if we stop seeing each other. At least for a while, just until I can be sure you won’t be in danger.”

“But, are you going to keep on fighting, against those things?” she asked him. “The kishins? Without your Weapon?”

“It’s my duty,” he stated. He looked at the girl’s preoccupated face. “Don’t worry Tsubaki! You seem to be forgetting what a great Star I am!” he smiled and she tried to smile back, but there was still unease in her eyes. “Of course, I’m only half as awesome without you,” he added.

He took her hands on his, as she tried not to cry.

“I’ll be fine, Tsubaki.”

“You better be,” she said, almost sobbing, almost smiling.

Through the contact of their hands, he realized he could hear her soft voice, the same way they communicated when she was in Weapon form.

I just want to be, always by your side.

Blackstar cupped Tsubaki’s face on his hands and kissed her.

The guards transported Kid through the hallways. As they arrived to their destiny, he remembered he had been inside that gray room before. There was the long, one way mirror, a table and a couple of wooden chairs. But he didn’t recognize a new, metallic chair. With a set of handcuffs on the armrests.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Orders by Dr. Noah. Sorry, Kid,” one of the guards said.

Kid looked around as the guards placed his hands on the handcuffs. There were no souls behind the mirror. The guards went out as Dr. Noah and his assistant entered the room. The doctor took one of the wooden chairs while his assistant, Gopher, remained standing very close to them.

“Hello, 8842. You must know already, that I will be at your charge.”

Kid didn’t look at him. Noah smiled to himself as he took a small control and the red lights on the cameras shut down.

“I guess you’ve heard about the Wanderer’s Library” the man casually said. “Long ago, I found a very interesting volume there, you know? Now, they say it is impossible to steal one of the Library’s books. I’ll tell you, it is difficult as hell, but it is possible. Do you want to know what this book is about?”

As he made that question, Noah took out an old tome from his messenger bag. Marks and notes poked out from between the pages. The book emitted a weird energy. Kid could feel there was something terribly wrong about it…

“It’s about many things. About Rage and Power, Flesh and Intellect, Knowledge and Fear…” Noah described with a strange smile, while Kid kept his gaze away from the tome. “It is about your Father, too”

Kid turned his face to look at Noah, his golden eyes wide open.

“Yes Kid. I know who your Father was.”

“How..?”

Noah took an old piece of paper from within the book.

“I know about the rest of your lot, too. What can you tell me about this?” the tall man asked, as he showed Kid the old draw of a sword on a stone.

“That’s just a legend…”

“Oh, it’s more than a legend. Just like you are, isn’t it?” Noah took a moment to admire the detailed draw, before placing the sheet back into the book “The most powerful weapon in existence, it’s only natural someone would try to reproduce his abilities. And now this one, keeps staying in my book…”

That last sentence was spoken with a mocking tone. Could it be that..? Was Excalibur..?

Kid tried looking at the book with his Soul Perception, only to be hit by a pulling sensation, like a black hole, like a dark, bottomless pit. From within it, something screamed in endless rage. He diverted his gaze.

“I know the Demon Weapons were created,” explained Noah. “Through experimentation with souls, something your father supposedly execrated. But such achievement was a group effort, if I’m not wrong-”

“What are you insinuating?” the boy hissed in anger.

“Some witch took all the credit, anyway,” Noah said, ignoring him. “But the Coalition killed Arachne, and I never got to make her all of the questions I had…”

“How do you know..?”

“About Arachne? I met someone who used to be very close to her. Vampires aren’t very smart creatures, but you know what they say: the older the wiser.” Noah laughed to himself. “And this one was indeed old. Eight centuries, at least. It’s a shame it wasn’t more cooperative. It never talked much, no matter what we did to it.”

A few steps away from Kid, Gopher let out a loud laugh. Maybe at a memory of their actions against the creature.

“But it did let a few things slip… Now, do you know what BREW’s true power is?” Noah asked.

Kid remained quiet, without looking at them. Gopher’s face constricted in anger.

“Dr. Noah made you a question!” the assistant yelled, his fists closing.  “ANSWER IT!”

When Kid silence only prolonged, Gopher punched him on the face with all his strength. The hit did not hurt much, but the sudden movement made Kid jolt in surprise.

“Gopher, stop that” Noah said, angrily. “You are damaging the collection.”

“I’m sorry, doctor” the assistant quickly apologized.

“There are things you are not supposed to know,” Kid whispered, and Noah took his attention back to him.

“I already know,” Noah explained. “BREW’s true power is to combine. To erase any distance between concepts. With its power, there would be no differences between species; between alive, and inert; between mere abstractions, and concrete matter. Between wishes and reality.”

Kid tried to get up, his strength alone should have been enough to break the cuffs. But it was then that he noticed in dread, that strange words in an forgotten tongue were engraved in their metal. Some kind of binding spell. Noah smiled, and Kid could feel the man’s soul, all terrible calm and an endless greed. A bottomless pit, like the one on his book.

“With BREW’s power, and each of yours combined,” he said as he placed a hand over the old book “I will shape this world my way.”

Kid’s eyes grew wide with horror and rage…

“You cannot…”

Noah took out a print of the special containment procedures if the anomalous tool ‘Eibon’s Key’, as well as a document detailing the SCP's wanted by, or taken from, the Church of the Broken God. He placed them next to the book.

“You see? I’ve already collected all of you…”

Kid looked in trepidation at the picture of the tool, knowing what it really was, who was inside of it. And then at the list of Mekhane's pieces, that held back Yaldabaoth. If the the Foundation was in possession of most of her parts, this man could access them without much difficulty. And the others...

Could they be inside that book?

Noah continued:

“...All except for one. The only one I can’t find. Now, finding and retrieving souls is your specialty, isn’t it?”

Kid only glared at him, without answering.

“Isn’t it?” the man said.

“You are insane…” Kid uttered.

“Where is Asura?” Noah asked him.

“Even if I knew, why would I tell you?!”

Noah got up from his chair and paced in the room.

“If you don’t, there will be consequences…”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Kid sneered.

Noah laughed.

“You seem to have made some friends around here,” the man uttered. “Like that blonde girl, the junior researcher. She already knows too much.”

“Leave them out of this…” Kid hissed.

“There’s also that agent… Lombardi, is it? He was so angry when those morons from the Coalition attacked you,” said Noah

“Stop it…”

“Or maybe… I admit I wouldn’t want any of the fascinating, unique specimens stored in our Site to be harmed,” he smiled, “but we have two instances of SCP-6613, anyway-”

Kid lunged at Noah, only to be held back by the cuffs.

“I’ll let you choose, which of the two would you like to keep?”

Kid lunged again, growling. The writing engraved on the metal started cracking. The spell was strong, but would not last forever.

“Don’t waste your energies. Come on. We are just talking-” Noah said.

“If you put a hand on any of them, I will kill you!”

“You can be sure I won’t even have to touch them,” Noah grinned. “This is such a dangerous place after all, terrible accidents could happen-”

The door was suddenly thrown open, with a loud noise. Dr. Jack Bright stood in the threshold.

“Hi 963, oh sorry… Bright,” Noah said in a calm tone.

Kid did not need to look at the directive’s soul to feel it flare in anger at being addressed by that number. But Jack’s face, today that of a brunette man, maintained a luminous smile.

“Hello, Noah,” Bright replied. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“We’re just finishing. Right, 8842?” Noah said, jovially.

Kid glared at him, his jaw set and his teeth clenched. Bright’s expression turned serious when he looked at the boy.

“Something seemed to be wrong with the audiovisual recordings of the interview,” Bright stated.

“Oh,” Noah answered, “I think I accidentally turned them off.”

Jack’s brown eyes had a reddish glint, just like a shining ruby, when he looked back at his colleague.

“Noah, shall I remind you? It was you who requested a very strict vigilance on 8842.”

The smirk was still on Noah’s face, but his eyes expressed hatred.

“Yes Jack. You’re right… you are, always right,” Noah said, as he exited the room, followed closely by his assistant.

The radiant smile was again on Jacks face, but Kid did not see it, turning his gaze away from him. As the guards appeared to take the boy back to his assigned room, he frantically focused in searching for the souls of Maka Albarn, of agent Lombardi, of the Thompson sisters…

Finding them safe and sound was a relief. It would be more difficult now, but maybe he could tell them, warn them somehow about the danger, about that man, maybe…

Maybe something terrible could happen to Dr. Noah, first.

Chapter Text

Maka ran, her feet almost tripping on the steps of the large stairs, just before entering another large, underground room. She did not stop to admire the high pointed vaults of the ceiling, nor the gold and green walls. The sound of her shoes against the tile floor echoed across the wide, empty space as she raced through tall columns.

Part of her knew she was dreaming, but another part had the feeling, the certainty, that this was as real as the day that had just passed. Maybe even more real, somehow. This same dream had been repeating in recent weeks, and she recognized this place since the first time: these were the ways that her mother described in her diary, the subterranean pyramid under that old, lost city.

Maka continued descending, towards the depths, her muscles straining with exhaustion, but never stopping, the adrenaline rush fueling her whole, her Soul Perception active and alert. She was suddenly struck by a heavy sensation, overwhelming her sixth sense. It made the world around turn red and the air became dense. It was as if she had just been submerged in blood. She vaguely thought she should have been prepared, as it had always been like this in the dream, but there was no way to get used to this.

She didn’t stop her race, even though the more she descended, the more oppressive the sensation felt, almost like drowning. Once more, she saw the doors with a three-eyed design, and once more, the doors opened in front of her. Maka finally stopped, and saw what was inside. She could hear terrified voices nearby, but she could not perceive anyone else, never could, her attention focused solely on the thing in front of her, the figure crawling on the ground, slowly approaching. As it... he came out of the darkness, she could make out the black and white hair, the two colors combined in the shhape of enormous eyes.

And then, the face...

Maka didn’t want to think about the chilling similarities, about how that face was so familiar. But those red eyes were like nothing she had ever seen. It was as if, within those irises were another pair of eyes, and inside them another, and then another, endlessly. To look into them, was like trying to stare into infinity, mesmerizing and terrifying.

Usually the dream ended here. But it wasn’t over this time.

His eyes were fixed on her, focusing in her spirit, and for a moment, Maka feared she would never wake up.

She suddenly understood. That oppressive, red aura, was his soul...

Soul rode his motorcycle trough the streets carefully. There was a dense fog, limiting his vision. A bright yellow light changed to red and he stopped abruptly. As he waited, he got carried away by his reflections. He had finally convinced his friends to leave town for a while. There would be a big exhibition in a nearby city, a perfect opportunity for Turner to show his latest creation, some kind of anomalous, sentient paint. Now, Soul was staying alone with Jackie. He knew the girl wouldn’t admit it, but after all these weeks housing them all, she was relieved.

Soul always felt he and his friend Jackie were very similar. Both had a dangerous ability, came from wealthy families and had escaped from them, each in their own way. Her case was completely different, though. When Jackie told her busy parents that she wanted to study in this small city’s University, in the other side of the country, they gave her this large, elegant apartment, and all the money she could need, but not a goodbye hug. Jackie had told Soul that, years back, when she had discovered her ability to generate and control fire, she decided to keep it a secret from her parents, as she had always felt she could never talk with them about the truly important things. But unlike Jackie, for whom the distance was a relief, for Soul, the memory of his family was a constant ache. His parents, his brother, they were probably still waiting for him to return home. Soul closed his eyes; he could only imagine the things his family was going through. He tried to think, as he always did, that they were better off without him...

A car honking very close to him took him out of his thoughts. The light of the semaphore had turned to green, and he continued his way.

Soon, he arrived to the large, gray house, just in the outskirts of town. As he got close, he distinguished in the fog Maka’s black car, parked in front of the gray building. As he left his motorcycle and walked towards it, he realized she was inside, her frame stiff, her eyes focused in the distance, not noticing him. A soft knock on her window made her jump.

“Soul!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry!”

Maka removed the lock from the car doors and let him inside.

“What is this place?” he asked her.

“It’s Dr. Stein’s house.”

Soul observed the house. From this closeness, he could notice some strange decorations on the walls, that loked almost like stitches.

“Well, it seems to fit the man,” he said with a huff of laughter, but Maka didn’t seem to hear that. Soul noticed the tension in her posture, her fists closed and her jaw set. “What happened to him, exactly?”

“He was affected, by the madness.”

“The madness? what do you mean?”

She did not answer immediately. It was only after some minutes that she spoke again.

“I felt it, within him. I don’t know how to describe it, it’s…” she paused, trying to find the most appropriate words, but she gave up and just sighed, before uttering: “Soul, without Dr. Stein, there is no way we can all reunite the way we did before!”

“But you and me,” Soul said, “we can continue practicing, together.”

A dark expression fell on her face.

“It’s no use…”

“What? Why do you say that?”

Maka closed her eyes and took a hand to her forehead.

“The thing that is coming, I’ve seen him now,” Maka whispered, and she saw sideways how Soul’s eyes grew. “It’s so strong that, even in my dream, I could feel its soul.” Some kind of horror showed on her face and she raised her voice. “There is no way in hell we can fight against something like that!”

“Maka, I…”

“It's immensely powerful!” she continued. “You wouldn’t understand, you haven’t seen him, and you can’t see souls, it’s.. it’s just not possible.”

They were quiet for some minutes. The place was completely silent, and the fog around made the large, gray house in front of them seem even larger and almost haunted.   

“So what?” Soul suddenly said, and Maka turned her face towards him. His eyes were red, but they were so different from those of the nightmarish abomination that haunted her. Soul's eyes were so vibrant, and rich, and so full of life… “You saw its soul, but it’s not as if you saw the future.”

Maka stared at him. She thought about mentioning the dream with 990, however, she knew the SCP only showed possible scenarios, not certain fates. She only sighed.

“You are going to give up without trying?” he said. Maka set her jaw but didn’t look at him. “Besides, we won’t be alone. All your friends from the Foundation will help, won’t they? And Blackstar’s whole gang too.” She looked at him, and saw his sharp grin. “Maybe even Tsubaki’s club, if we can convince them. Not that I would invite them all to any other party!”

He finally saw a small smile in her face.

“I won’t tell you everything’s gonna be alright,” he said. “I can’t know that. But I’ll tell you something, I’m staying here...”

He took her hand and, in that instant, she could hear his voice clearly, that communication that ran trough their connection whenever she wielded him.

...By your side.

“Soul,” she whispered.

“I’m you Weapon now, aren’t I?”

We could be even more.

A low sound that grew into soft musical notes filled their link, and as their hands held tighter to one another, their connection felt deeper and stonger than ever.

Soul! This is the song, the one you played that day!

He just smiled and hummed along.

We won’t be alone.

“Sid, I knew something was wrong... maybe if I had gone before!”

“It’s not your fault, Blackstar.”

Even though Sid said that, Blackstar still felt it was. Sid should not be in this bed, in the medical wing. He should be fine, Blackstar should have done something, he had to do something.

“I will become stronger, I will find that man and avenge this!”

“Blackstar, you must not let it be hatred that guides you,” Sid told him.

“Sid, it’s just that,” the boy said, “I just hate it when someone I care about is hurt!”

Sid placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, but before he could say something, the attending nurse arrived.

“Time is up, Agent,” she said. “The patient needs to rest.”

“Yeah,” the boy replied, getting up quickly. “Goodbye, Sid.”

The man waved back. As Black Star exited the room, he thought of the people he and his team could not save. He thought of everyone he cared about, people he had grown up with and he saw as his family, then of his friends and fellow agents, and then, of the new friends he was making in the most unexpected places. He thought of Tsubaki.

Blackstar had since long concluded he didn’t hate anomalies, he hated when people got hurt.

He sighed. If it wasn’t for Sid, the Coalition would not have made a difference between him and the rest of his family… But was he really that different from them? That new ability he discovered, the scientist from the Foundation said that power came from his very soul. Those techniques had been used by the abominable Star Clan.

He always knew he wasn’t exactly normal. Being “like the rest” was almost an insult, he wanted to stand out and shine. But was he anomalous? If the others here learnt about his newfound abilities, would they consider him a parathreat? Was he like those that would have been his family? To have the power to defend and protectwas what he had always wanted, to become the strongest, to face the most powerful enemies and win, beat the gods themselves, so he could be the greatest hero, and maybe that way, become the complete opposite of all those people from many generations before him, who only brought pain and caused harm.

This was confusing. He had to be like them, to be different from them? Or maybe it was rather that no matter how similar they were, he could still be different. It was just like Sid always said, only he could chose the kind of man he wanted to be…

“Blackstar!!” Ford called behind him.

“Please man, talk to us,” Kilik added.

Blackstar looked around, to ensure nobody was close. “I’ll tell you, I'll tell you everything" he finally said, "but not here".

“For some instants, when the madness receded a bit, Dr. Stein told me to come here.” Maka said, as they crossed the threshold of the enormous residence. “He said that there was something in here that could help us.”

Inside, it was quite dark, with only faint halos entering trough the diminute windows. Soul looked around as they walked the hallways and felt a shiver, as his eyes adapted to the penumbra and he could distinguish tall cabinets with jars of all sizes, full of things he did not want to ask about, and different kinds of lab equipment.

“Well, this place looks more like a creepy lab than like a house!”

“It was a laboratory, a long time ago," Maka explained him. "It belonged to Prometheus Labs. Dr. Stein used to work for them before joining the Foundation”

On a wall, an old poster depicted the stylized image of a man raising a torch.

“I think I’ve heard of them,” Soul mumbled.

“I’m sure you have! They were everywhere!” Maka walked towards him, and also watched the worn image. “They used to sell art supplies to 'Are we cool yet' and designed technologies for the Church of the Broken God. They made business with Marshall, Carter & Dark, and made donations for the Manna Charitable Foundation. Some say, that they even sold the same weapon equipments to both the GOC and the Chaos Insurgency.”

“What a bunch of opportunists!” Soul commented. “What happened to them?”

“The group dissolved, many years ago. Many of their workers then joined the Foundation.”

“Is that… Dr. Stein’s story?”

“No, he had left the Labs long before they closed,” she answered.

They walked trough the many doors, and finally entered a large room. It looked more lika an office, as a large desk and boxes full of paper occupied most of it, but an unmade bed revealed them this was Dr. Stein’s personal room. She approached the desk, where she saw many documents, printed in a formatted paper that still had the Prometheus Labs logo on them. One of them had a title that made her realize this could be what they were looking for.

“Soul, look at this!”

“Chain team-resonance?” he read aloud.

Before she could answer, there was a noise, like a breaking glass, coming from the hallway.

“Did you hear that?”

Maka activated her Soul Perception, and her expression morphed into horror.

“Soul… we need to get out of here!”

Black Star and his two friends walked through a park, not too far from the GOC headquarters. It was almost midday, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. The dense fog erased the forms of the closest buildings and made the trees around seem even larger. Black Star could almost think they were in the middle of a forest, and not still in the town.

“What was that, the other day?” Kilik asked Black Star. “Who was that?”

Blackstar didn’t answer immediately. Facing his friends, he crossed his arms and sighed.

“Her name is Tsubaki,” he finally said.

“What is she?” Ford asked him immediately.

“She’s a Weapon.”

“Blackstar, you have to explain-“

“I’m on it, okay?!” Black Star exclaimed. He tried to calm himself with a deep breath. “We met a couple months ago…”

He told them about how he met Tsubaki, then about the night she saved him, and their choice to fight together, seeing his friend’s incredulous faces. Then he told them about the strange team they had joined.

“But, are you sure you can trust them?” Kilik said. “Trust her?”

“I definitely trust her,” Black Star stated. He still had doubts about other members of the team, but… “Like I’ve told you, Tsubaki saved my life.”

“We heard the… Tsubaki, that day,” Kilik observed. “She was willing to risk herself to help Sid, wasn’t she?”

“Yeah, that’s who she is.”

For some minutes, all that could be heard was a soft, cool wind blowing among the branches of trees, now completely devoid of leaves.

“But, do you think that..?” Ford asked him. “I mean… Will you stay, in the GOC?”

“I still believe there are things out there we have to fight," answered the blue haired boy. "But, maybe it’s not as simple as we thought it was. In the end, what we both want is to keep people safe.”

Kilik walked towads him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We promise we won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.”

“Ford?” Kilik asked.

The alluded looked more doubtful at first, but soon, determination settled on his expression.

“I swear it!”

“Quick, this way!”

They ran towards the building’s only exit, but before they could reach it, a large shape blocked it. As a reflex, Soul transformed and Maka held the Scythe firmly

Maka, what is that?

She had no idea. If she had to answer something, she’d say the thing looked like a clown, but that was definitely no disguise. She saw the elongated, colorful extremities, the horrifying face that distorted into a monstrously large smile.

Is that a kishin?

“No, it’s… it’s something different” Maka said, watching a soul like she had never seen before, but that reminded her of the thing in her nightmare. It oozed a disquieting feeling.

“You really want to know!” the thing said, and Maka gasped because the things she had confronted so far never spoke. “I am madness itself”

Before she could process those words, the creature was lunging at them. With a quick leap, Maka managed to escape from its reach, and promptly slashed at it with the Scythe, but the monster quickly recovered and its claws scratched her arm just before she jumped back.

Are you okay?! Soul asked her through their link.

“Yes. That thing’s way faster than the kishins!”

She tried to block as the monster lunged at her again but it was just too strong, and the attack sent her flying backwards towards the wall.

Maka!

“Soul,” she grunted. “We need to use the resonance!”

His reflection on the blade nodded, and they felt their souls reaching towards each other, as natural as the momnet they had just shared earlier. The familiar, glowing crescent of the Hunter appeared.

“Soul resonance!” both yelled as she rushed against the monster, lifting the Weapon.

For a momnet, she feared it would not work, that it would not be enough. The sudden terror sent an adrenaline rush to her muscles, and she chose to place all of her strenght in the hit, tightening her hands on the shaft. The blade struck the monster squarely, and it laughed maniacally as it slowly started to dissolve, until all that was left of it was a floating soul.

Soul transformed back into his human form, and his hand reached towards the glowing orb.

“Wait!” Maka said, before he could touch it. “We don’t know exactly what that was! Maybe I should take this to the Foundation labs.”

She took one of the empty glass jars and carefully collected the strange soul inside.

Chapter Text

SCP FOUNDATION, SITE-17

Conference Room A-2

Dr. Noah E██: What if his objective from the beginning, was to get BREW? Then, escape as soon as he could obtain it? What I mean is SCP-8842 was obviously interested in this object. And it’s clear he needed our help in order to find it and retrieve it.

Agent White: He did not lie about anything, about how to fight the kishins, nor about these objects.

Dr. Noah E██: I’m not saying he lied. After all, he needed us to trust him. And, if he was so interested in that we could find the tools, why didn’t he tell us about them from the beginning?

Agent [REDACTED]: Maybe he needed time to trust us, too?

Dr. Noah E██: Well, if he trusts us now, why doesn’t he tell us who he really is? There’s just too much he’s still hiding…

Dr. Glass: I must point out, whenever he’s pushed-

Dr. Noah E██: He just plays those panicked acts.

Dr. Glass: Those are not “acts”, Dr. Noah.

Director [REDACTED]: There’s also his claim that we’ll be facing something like him very soon. Is that even true?

Dr. Noah E██: If it is, then it’s another reason why we need to find out more about his kind. How to properly contain him, to begin with. And we have ways to find the truth, if he doesn’t want to cooperate.

Dr. Glass: Director, I must disagree-

Director [REDACTED]: What do you suggest, Noah?

EXPERIMENT LOG 8842-A13

Item: SCP-061

Test Record: The record started playing, with SCP-8842 listening, for an approximate total of ███ minutes. Despite the prolonged exposition to SCP-061, SCP-8842 did not show the typical behavior observed in other subjects. He remained responsive, and without possibility of external control after several discreet attempts.

Adddendum: "Though disappointing, this result wasn’t unexpected. After all, SCP-061 was designed to affect the subconscious of a human brain." – Dr. Noah E.

Item: SCP-067

Test Record: SCP-8842 is taken into a test room, inside is a desk, with a stack of paper and SCP-067. Surveillance shows that SCP-8842 takes the pen and starts writing until filling a total of ██ pages. The recovered text was written in series of unknown symbols, in a language not yet specified. Foundation researchers are working in deciphering its meaning.

Addendum: The last page depicts the draw of a face. It was initially thought to be a self-portrait, but it could actually be [DATA EXPUNGED].

Item: SCP-158

Test Record: Testing denied by O5-██

Item: SCP-187

Test Record: The SCPs sustain a dialogue for approximately 40 minutes. They talk about irrelevant, general topics. After the encounter, SCP-187 was interviewed. She had perceived changes in the SCP’s hair coloration, but apparently, nothing of more importance. By the end of the interview, SCP-187 commented she initially did not think SCP-8842 would be able to speak, “with his mouth sewn like that”.

“Honestly, Noah, what are you planning to do?” – Dr. Simon Glass

Item: SCP-991

Test Record: SCP-8842 was restrained in order to use SCP-991-1 on it. While Dr. Noah made the SCP open questions about his true nature, origin, and the localization of [DATA EXPUNGED], SCP-991-1 was inserted and it filled with an black fluid. The syringe was removed after completely full, and the substance was then injected into D-Class 5368. The recipient subject seemed confused for some seconds before starting to scream unintelligible words, then seizuring and finally falling into a comatose state. The experiment was repeated in two more D-Class personnel, with similar results, until the experiment was suspended by orders of Dr. ████.

Addendum: We've been informed that the first D-Class that received the injection has just expired, at approximately 20:15 hrs. The same outcome is expected for the rest of the still comatose subjects.

SECURITY RECORDINGS, DR. NOAH’S OFFICE:

Dr. Bright: What is your endgame, Noah?

Dr. Noah: Jack? Don’t you know the O5 Council supports me in this-

Dr. Bright: I could care less! These experiments, these cross testings… What are you even trying to achieve? The Ethics Committee will-

Dr. Noah: They have already given me the green light, as you can see… right here.

Dr. Bright: I said it from the beggining, Noah. You should have never been allowed into the Foundation!

Dr. Noah: Well, the O5 Council disagrees with you in that matter, too. I'll just say that, very soon, I'll be someone you'll look up to.

Dr. Bright: As if you'd be here much longer.

Dr. Noah: Is that a threat?

Dr. Bright: Good luck, Noah.

(Sound of closing door)

Addendum 8842-68: Cross testing with humanoid item SCP-657, as well as use of Kant counters for the measurement of Hume levels, are still pending approval.

Addendum 8842-69: Even though there were various tests, made by Dr. Stein, designed to determine the characteristics and extent of SCP-8842's healing and regeneration abilities, they were quite limited, and there is still much that we don't know for sure. A more vigorous approach is required in order to gather as much information as possible. We started a new series of tests designed to explore the SCP's phisiological response to different adverse situations. -Dr. Noah E.

Addendum 8842-72: So far, the results have proven that SCP-8842 abilities allow him to [DATA EXPUNGED], as well as reattach severed extremities. -Dr. Noah E.

Security Log 46783

“Let me in! I am from the team in charge!”

“We’re sorry, but, according to our current information, this SCP was reassigned. Besides, your level of clearance does not allow you into the Keter wing.”

“How does that even make sense! 8842 is an Euclid!”

“You might be right in that, but these were Dr. Noah’s orders. You’ll need his permission if you want to try some tests in the SCP.”

“It’s not that! I just… I just want to tal-, ask him some questions, it’s all.”

“Still, the SCP isn't allowed anymore to interact with the personnel outside of the scheduled procedures.”

"Please..."

“Sorry, researcher Albarn.”

Dr. Noah waited inside the control room. He was reading a quite peculiar work, one he found buried in the depths of the Site’s Library. It was unfinished, apparently because of serious disagreements between the two researchers that were working on it. Even though both were gone, Noah knew very well who they were: one betrayed the Foundation a long time ago, joining the Chaos Insurgency, while the other disappeared without a trace, only some years ago. Their theory alluded to a disturbance in Order, occurred eight centuries ago, the event that altered reality itself. Supposedly, the pair was not exactly sure of what they were looking for, but Noah was certain that “Dr.” Medusa Gorgon did know about the Great Old One of Order.

Through the control room’s window, he and his assistant saw that the guards had finally arrived, bringing the SCP into the test chamber down below. Noah felt he was so fortunate that this creature was so young and incomplete, still far from his full potential. There was no way he could even try all this experiments otherwise. He tried to imagine why his Father had made him that way, but his brain desisted quickly. No point in trying to understand those minds.

Soon, the scientist and sorcerer could examine the results given by the Kant counters.

“SCP-8842 internal Hume levels are high,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Even more than expected for a mere fragment. Now… the external levels.”

As the computer printed results, Noah smiled. “This is just as I imagined.”

“What is it, Dr. Noah?” his assistant, Gopher, asked him.

“Both the internal and external Hume levels are exactly the same.”

The assistant reflected for a moment.

“So, is he like a… reality bender?” Gopher asked.

The scientist denied with his head.

“Reality benders typically have high internal levels, but with lower than usual baseline readings around them,” Dr. Noah looked in fascination at the kid inside the chamber. “But this one: he attunes with reality. If I’m correct, this creature could raise and stabilize the Hume levels of the area surrounding him.”

“That would mean, he is more like a..?” the assistant asked, and Noah smiled.

“Existence’s own reality anchors.”

REPORT 8842-B47, BY DR. FRANK N. STEIN

(Recovered  █/█/██

According to investigations by Dr. J. Caldmann and  Dr. C. Rzewski, most magic users and reality benders can impose their will on the world because they have internal Hume levels, or levels of reality within them, that are higher, stronger than the reality outside them. That way, they manage to “subdue” physical existence to their will. I’ve been observing SCP-8842’s special abilities and characteristics, and my hypothesis is that his capabilities work in a very different way: not by “fighting” against reality, but by becoming “one” with it, or with certain aspects of it, those under his “domain”...

Kid saw that the red lights of the cameras inside the chamber had suddenly stopped blinking. Were they off, now?

“We are learning so much about you, 8842. Let’s take this opportunity to chat!”

Noah’s words only met silence.

“Where is Asura?”

Again, the boy did not answer.

“Kid, shall I remind you? We don’t want accidents to happen, right?”

The cruel voice resonated inside the test chamber. Through the high window of the control room, the boy could see Noah’s grin.

That man probably felt so safe behind the bulletproof glass…

Post-Incident Interview DK-083, Incident 8842/Noah E ███ , “ Blackout”

Interviewer: Dr. M. Diaz/ Interviewee: Site Director [REDACTED]

Dr. Diaz: Many had observed that Dr. Stein had given SCP-8842 too much freedom within the facility, not to mention during the participations with the MTF.

Director [REDACTED]: The SCP was compliant and helpful…

Dr. Diaz: But we still don’t understand why it was until Dr. Noah took the assignment, that the containment procedures were properly checked beyond “let the SCP do as it wishes”.

Director [REDACTED]: As I said, 8842 was cooperative, and hadn’t shown any signs of hostility towards the personnel. At least not until this… incident.

Dr. Diaz: Even so, you had problems controlling him, since the very beginning. First, his attempt at destroying SCP-158, then the confrontation with SCP-353, then the breach that made us lose a new SCP. Not to mention extensive damage to the installations during the tests with anomaly-KHN. And recently, his attempt to escape with the anomalous tool BREW.

Director [REDACTED]: We have already talked about those.

Dr. Diaz: Director, listen. Dr. Noah had already warned us, that this SCP could turn against us in any second.

Director [REDACTED]: The specialists had other conclussions.

Dr. Diaz: Or maybe none of you could see the signs. For what we have investigated, many in here let the creature’s childlike appearance cloud their better judgement.

SECURITY LOG C-8468

At 17:00 hrs, an overload blackout affected Site-17. Witnesses report sudden noises in the west wing, sounds like an explosion, shattering glass, and screaming. The blackout lasted █ seconds before the backup generators kicked in. Guards were deployed in Test Chamber A76. In addition, two MTF Delta-8 operatives, Agents Lombardi and White, who were at the Site, were immediately dispatched to the area.

EXCERPT FROM POST-INCIDENT INTERVIEW 083-963-21

Interview O5-██ /Agent Lothario White, from MTF Delta-8

(...)

Agent White: You can ask Lombardi. That’s exactly what the SCP told us.

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: Sir, I must disagree. Even if those were “empty threats”, the man knew what he was doing.

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: Well, first we push unknown, sentient beings to their limits, and then we claim they are too dangerous? Wouldn’t be the first time we do that.

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: We blame the GOC for what they did to the poor chair. But we know what we did to the water nymph, and to the yarn ball, and then to the [REDACTED]… shall I continue the list?

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: I think you would have done exactly the same. First, the reclassification…

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: Yes, I know. But the truth is, we hear “Keter”, and automatically think of something extremely hostile. We think of things like 106 and 682... But you’re right, we are simply talking about the extension of the containment procedures.

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: I understand that, I mean, just look at 173, for example. It has gotten to kill God knows how many. But as long as it can’t break out of its room, it’s not that hard to deal with, and it stays Euclid.

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: Yes, sir. I saw that boy tear down a mekhanite temple. Saved all of our lives that day, you know?

O5-██: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Agent White: Whatever I think about that, is hardly any relevant, sir. I don’t get to make such decisions.

Inside the large, entirely white test chamber, Kid heard the laughter that followed Noah’s threats. It made his blood boil.

That man knew no boundaries. He wanted power, he wished to rule above everyone and everything, and had no respect for life. He was threatening his friends. He wanted to throw off balance and set reality his way. That man was a menace to this world, to order itself, to the very fabric of reality, and to the souls that inhabited it.

He had to ensure that man’s demise. Then BREW’s.

Kid looked above, to the rectangular window of the control room. For one instant, he had the satisfaction of seeing Noah’s smile suddenly disappear…

There was a flash like lightning just before the lights shut down, the same instant that the bulletproof window in front of Noah suddenly blew up, sending him and his assistant flying backwards, against the wall in the other side in the room. There were loud crashes and splinters of glass reached their faces.

Noah opened his eyes only to find absolute darkness. He blinked in confusion, trying and failing to get up. The backup generators kicked in, and a low, fluorescent light illuminated the scene

In front of him, not more than half a meter of distance, there was he creature the Foundation had called SCP-8842.

But Noah knew who he was.

The man could distinguish in the faint light that something about the kid was different. He noticed one of the stripes on his head. A line that now was fully connected.

Noah felt a sinking dread, the creature was not supposed to be this powerful, not yet. He watched how the boy tilted his head a bit, his yellow eyes glowing softly as they narrowed, focusing in something within him. Noah took a hand to his satchel, only to find it empty. He realized the book of Eibon was on the floor, not too far, but out of his reach. As in slow motion, Noah saw how the being extended his hand towards him, fingers opening, ready to grasp. The sorcerer understood what the kid was about to do…

“NO!! NOAH!!”

The pale fingertips were almost touching Noah when Gopher pounced on the kid, both falling to the side. The yellow-eyed boy snarled and incorporated with agility, as he threw the assistant to the floor, grabbing him from the neck with one hand while raising the other, fingers like a hawk’s talons above a defenseless prey. But in that moment, the creature hesitated…

Enough to give Noah time to react.

Moving to reach Book of Eibon, he opened it on the page with the strongest of its binding spells. Better not to take any chances. The page glowed on his hands as he pronounced the magic words.

Kid felt the magic holding him, violently binding his body and soul, and a pained whimper escaped his throat as he fell to the floor. He felt the spell immobilizing his limbs, cutting his breath and making every part of his body ache. He fought against the powerful magic, against the wrongness of it, but the spell was too strong. He could barely feel on his abdomen the hits of Noah’s assistant, who had started to kick him…

REPORT - ███ - “Blackout”

(Fragment)

“During the incident, Dr. Noah E███ managed to momentarily hold SCP-8842 through thaumatological means, until the security teams arrived and properly restrained the SCP. According to reports by the members of the security team and the MTF, SCP-8842 claimed that Dr. Noah [DATA EXPUNGED]. Unfortunately, most of the data about the minutes prior to the incident was lost, due to audiovisual recordings failure…”

Addendum: Given the recent incident and the difficulties the handling of this specific item has represented in Site-17, as well as the possibility of further, valuable cross-testing, a proposition for the relocation of SCP-8842 to Site-19 has been submitted to the O5 Council. - Dr. Diaz

Proposition approved. O5-██

Chapter Text

Maka stood in front of a large painting. The splatter of colors, a combination of black, red and white, with no discernible shape or sense, was making her head dizzy. Meeting in that modern art gallery had been Soul's idea.

She perceived his soul, even before hearing the quiet footsteps in the empty hall, approaching her from behind. As he finally stood by her side, their hands reached to each other, and so did their souls. She glanced and saw his bright red eyes, his smile showing off visibly sharp teeth. He was her Weapon, her devourer of souls. Maka smiled, knowing that, despite he would never eat her spirit, it belonged to him even more than any of those he had feasted upon.

She sensed another pair of familiar souls approaching them, and recognized Blackstar and Tsubaki. 

“The Foundation isn’t a safe place anymore,” Maka uttered when they came closer.

“What do you mean?”

“Agent White warned me,” she explained. "He said Dr. Noah has been threatening to harm the Thompson sisters, agents from the MTF… and me. In order to make Kid ‘cooperate’”.

Maka’s words made Soul’s heart sink. He could still remember that man, from his short stay in the Foundation.

“That’s not all,” Maka continued. “They… they've taken Kid to Site-19.”

“Site-19?” asked Tsubaki.

“Another facility, in the other side of the country.”

“Why did they do that?” Blackstar narrowed his eyes as he questioned. There were rumours about that place among GOC operatives. About the kind of things the Skippers kept in that particular area.

“I’m... I'm not sure,” Maka answered quickly, avoiding his eyes.

“Can’t you take him out of that place,” Soul asked her. “Like you did before?”

“Site-19 is something entirely different," she said closing her eyes. "The biggest, most heavily guarded of our Sites. The... most dangerous SCPs are there. Also, the worst things we do… happen there”

Soul looked especially disturbed after hearing that. Tsubaki couldn’t suppress a gasp, and took her hand to her mouth. 

“So, what are we gonna do?” Blackstar asked, crossing his arms. All eyes focused on Maka. Like she somehow was the leader of this strange team…

She closed her fists. “We have to take Kid, and the sisters, out of the Foundation.”

Site-17, Common Area and Cafeteria:

Liz and Patty arrived to have breakfast in a table shared by some of the Site’s residents.

“It’s just… so not fair!” Claudia said, her voice the only evidence of her invisible presence.

“I once traveled to another reality’s Site-19,” commented the dimensional hopper. “It was a horrible place. I know it was an alternate version, but, for what I could find out… that world was not so different from ours.”

“Site-19? What’s that, Steve?” Patty asked.

“The largest Foundation Site,” explained Claudia.

“I’ve been there,” said Iris. “It was a long time ago, but I doubt that place has changed a bit...”

“Definitely wouldn’t like to be him right now” said Steve.

“What do you mean?” Liz asked them. “Be who?”

“You don’t know it?” Iris eyes widened. “Kid was relocated to Site-19...”

Liz felt she was on the verge of a panic attack. For what the other skips said, the place called Site-19 was horrifying, and housed terrible creatures. Iris shared memories Liz would have preferred not to hear, while Steve considered the scientists might be planning to cross-test Kid’s abilities against some nasty monstrosity.

One of the guards had given her a cigar. That helped, a little. Liz could still see the trembling in the hand that held it, the ashes easily falling. She closed her eyes, and tried not to think of Iris’ narrations or Steve’s theories.

Kid was going to be okay, right? He was so strong, way more than he might seem.

His looks could be deceiving. No one would imagine at first glance the power the boy hid. Kid was small, his features were so soft and his behavior so curious, that Liz at first doubted it when she learnt he was only, barely, two years younger than her. Still, there were moments when she felt completely different about him, when she could see the sadness in his strange eyes, and would swear he was much older. Not like an adult, nor like an old man, but rather like an ancient spirit. A ghost, carrying lifetimes of loneliness and grief. A soul with hundreds of years, otherworldly and mysterious.

She had always been so afraid of ghosts…

“Liz?”

She turned around at her little sister’s voice. She had found her hiding place, next to the window, in that empty hallway. At least Liz was calmer now…

“Agent White says it’s time for our training,” Patty explained.

Liz frowned with suspicion. Dr. Bright had mentioned they could still participate with the MTF, but they hadn’t taken them into any training recently. She threw away the finished cigar and followed her sister.

Agent White drove the van in their way towards Summer Cycling Park. Maka Albarn accompanied him in the front. In the back, with the Thompson sisters, were pair of armed guards. Through the mirror, Maka saw the two boys in the approaching motorcycle.

“They are here,” she said, checking her seatbelt was well adjusted.

White nodded and pushing the pedals, he gave a sharp turn, sending the van crashing on a large tree. The airbags cushioned the blow, but Maka still felt the air leaving her lungs, the belt suddenly digging into her tense muscles. In the back, Liz was thankful that she and her sister had been secured to their seats, protecting them from the forceful impact. The disoriented guards were still trying to get up when the pair of doors opened. Both of them rushed stumbling outside.

"RULE NUMBER THREE!" a boy loudly yelled.

The guards turned their heads, but before they could react, the boy's quick movessent them both unconscious to the floor.

“Strike your target before he notices you!” said the teenager, removing a ninja mask to reveal spiky blue hair.

Agent White and Maka jumped out from the vehicle. Both took out sets of keys and promptly removed the sisters’ bindings.

“Albarn, what…?” Liz asked, confused.

“You need to go," Maka urged. "Soul and Blackstar will take you somewhere safe!”

As the sisters jumped out, they heard White speak through his radio.

“Yes! Send help quick! We’ve just been assaulted by a hostile group, two operatives are down...”

As he finished, he ripped part of his shirt. Then, grabbing dirt from the ground, he threw some on his clothes, and then on Maka's, before pushing her to the ground.

"Hey!" she complained.

He ignored her, turning towards a wide eyed Soul.

“Now, I need you to hit me!”

“What?”

“Come on, hit me hard! Or they will never believe us, and we’ll be food for the freaking lizard!"

"The, the what..?" Soul asked.

“Come on boy!” urged White. “I’ve just pushed your girlfriend.”

“Allow me!” Blackstar yelled, pushing Soul to the side, and promptly sent a punch to the man’s nose, with an audible crack.

“Dude!” Soul exclaimed.

“That was a soft one!” Blackstar assured him.

“Perfect!” said White, stumbling to get up, holding a bleeding nose. “You need to go, they’ll be here very soon!"

“Take your weapon forms!” Blackstar told the sisters, opening his worn backpack, as Soul started the motorcycle.

“I could not see their faces, it was too fast, but they were at least four. Or maybe five…” said Agent White, placing some ice on his face.

“It could have been MC&D, trying to recover their assets,” considered another of the agents. “Or maybe the Serpent’s Hand.”

As Maka exited the interview room, she heard White talking with some of his fellow agents, describing how some group on motorcycles made their van crash, then took the skips. They had worked in their versions when they made their plan, but she was still nervous during the interrogations. After a whole lot of questions, and a trip to medical wing for the doctors to check on the bruises from when the hostile forces threw her around, Maka was finally dismissed.

As the sun was setting, she was finally driving her black car away from Site-17. A complete success, she thought, she even could get a couple days off.

She reached her hometown, but did not turn in the avenue that led to her apartment. She was not going home today.

After almost an hour of circling around the small city, and after checking for the thousandth time that she was not being followed, she parked her black car outside a small motel in the outskirts of town. She walked to the wooden door of the room and, after checking the number twice, she opened it slowly. As they had planned, the sisters were there, along with Soul, Blackstar and Tsubaki.

Patty and the boys were watching the old television, probably some comedy judging by their laughter, Tsubaki and Liz were in the other side of the room, chating on a small table. This place, with its worn paint and outdated style, was nothing at all like Maka’s modern, minimalistic apartment. But the truth was, after being so used to arrive to a lonely, silent home every night, it felt warm to see all these faces reunited, people that were complete strangers not too long ago. It felt soothing to see their smiles and hear their voices, a sensation that only grew when her gaze found Soul’s bright red eyes, and his sharp smile flashed.

As soon as she spotted Maka, Patty ran to hug her.

“Thank you for helping us out, researcher Albarn!” she exclaimed.

“Please, call me Maka,” she smiled.

“Right! Now we are going to help Kido too, Maka?”

“We’ve heard he is somewhere called Site-19,” said Liz.

Maka felt every bit of optimism waver at the mention of that place, but she steeled herself:

“We will take him out!” she promised.

Tsubaki had decided to bring some rice desserts, and Maka blessed her as she rushed to the table to take a pair. She used the chance to talk with her.

“Have you seen Kim recently?”

“A couple of times, she’s been busy,” Tsubaki answered, frowning. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just wondering,” Maka avoided the taller girl’s eyes, “I hadn’t had time to contact her.” Truth was, the young witch had stopped answering her calls some weeks ago. “Do you know… if she has found… something new?” she questioned, between chews.

“About what?” Tsubaki said softly, looking confused.

“I don’t know… anything weird she’s mentioned,” Maka insisted, trying to sound indifferent.

If Kid really was the greatest enemy of the witches…

“I’m sorry, I think there’s nothing new,” the taller girl replied, after a moment of reflection.

The older Thompson was looking at Maka with narrowed eyes, but didn’t say a thing. Before any of them could speak again, the boys approached them.

“So, what’s the plan?” Blackstar exclaimed loudly, grabbing a rice roll.

“Breach Site-19, take Kid out,” Maka answered with a determined voice.

“Yes, but… what’s the plan?” Soul asked, in a more worried tone.

“We’ll think of something,” Maka said. “I found an old map of Site-19. Many things could have changed, but it’s a start.”

Maka went outside to retrieve the old Site-19 planes from her car. There were some lamps on the motel’s parking lot, but most seemed to be long broken, leaving the whole area quite dark. Above her, the night was clear, and with no visible moonlight. 

She reached her car and simply stood there for a moment. Were they really going to do this? If Maka was discovered, there was no way she could come back to the Foundation again, and it would not be good for their plans of joining every major force in the world. That, if she wasn’t caught in the spot and subsequently terminated. She closed her eyes and decided there was no way she would let Kid in their hands another minute. Determination settled again, she grabbed the Site's map, and a heavily redacted copy of SCP-8842’containemnt procedures she had retrieved from the Site before leaving. Below them, she saw the prints titled “Chain team-resonance”, and took them as well. After closing the trunk, Maka turned, and she almost jumped when she found the older Thompson behind her.

“Elizabeth!”

“Maka,” Liz said, in a serious voice, her tall frame towering over the shorter girl, “I think there are things you’re not telling us.”

Maka scowled, trying to look confused.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“That exactly. To lie as much as you do, you’re terrible at it. What is it you are hiding, huh?”

Maka avoided her eyes.

“It… it’s nothing of importance,” she uttered.

“Tell me, and I get to choose if it is.”

“It is better, safer, if you don’t know,” Maka stated, a slight tremble on her voice.

“Somebody told me something like that before. Then, we almost got killed”

The two looked at each other, deep green and ocean blue staring into each other. Maka considered that Liz could know the truth about Kid already. They had only grown closer since they met, and even if she didn’t know, Liz…

Liz definitely cared about him.

“Fine,” Maka said. “It is about Kid. He, he is…”

“He is what?” Liz questioned, her voice harsh, with that threatening tone and posture that so easily came to her, somehow managing to hide the undeniable worry, crawling inside of her. What was wrong with Kid? Had something happened to him? Was he okay?

With a sigh, Maka finally said it.

“Kid is Death.”

Chapter Text

The young witch walked the spiral stairways to the dark dungeons of the Chaos Insurgency lair. As she placed a plate with food for the prisoners, a small group of Weapons, Eruka Frog tried not to look at their faces. She still could not make sense of what was Medusa Gorgon trying to accomplish with the terrible experiments she was inflicting upon them. Eruka wanted to believe in her, but it was becoming harder everyday.

She wanted to think this was all necessary. When Medusa informed her that the Global Occult Coalition had killed her beloved friends, the Mizune sisters, the frog witch decided to join this cause in their memory. So many before had tried the peaceful way, and were dead today. Now Eruka was certain, the only way to ensure survival was to fight back. The Insurgency had been working to gain more and more power, and nothing should stop them now. They had even taken down Death, something no one else could ever dream of accomplishing. After that, destroying the GOC and the SCP Foundation should be easy.

When she finished her task, the last for today, she went up the long stairs. After jumping over the last step, she found Free in the dark hallway, his face staring down and his back resting against the wall of rock. Eruka and the werewolf had grown very close, ever since the night she rescued him from his imprisonment. The young witch couldn't tell the same about other members of the Insurgency. She admired Mifune, the samurai who saved and took care of a little witch child, but he was always so serious and distant. There was the new girl, Blair; she was sympathetic, but Eruka always found something fake in her smile, and decided she wouldn't fully trust her. Giriko had approached her often, but his attention was completely unwanted, and Eruka was glad that the Weapon had a fit of rage at Medusa and abandoned the Insurgency.

The werewolf who had called himself Free was Eruka's only true friend in this place. She noticed he looked worse everyday, ever since that day, when they tried and failed to get BREW.

“Are you okay, Free?”

He was silent for a moment before answering.

“I know what I felt.”

Eruka looked at him in silence. It was that again. It all started when they returned from the frozen island, he claimed that their old enemy had not been truly vanquished when they attacked that city hidden in the middle of the desert. Free was sure that He had simply changed his disguise, and now looked like a kid, some kind of younger version of the horrifying creature they released that same night. Eruka thought, wanted to think, that her friend was just reliving flashbacks of the frightening madness they all experienced that day. Maybe he simply couldn’t believe He was truly dead. Eruka trusted in his friend but…

“Medusa said it, Free. He was destroyed.”

“And I’m telling you, Eruka. Medusa’s been lying to us. About everything.”

That was more or less the same thing Giriko yelled, the night he left them for good. Truth was, Eruka would not disagree. Medusa said… too many things. She said she wanted a world where everyone could live free, but she took countless prisoners. She said she despised the Jailors, but made experiments as wicked as theirs. Medusa smiled and made promises, but she hid so much, even from her followers.

But at least, when it came to Death…

“You saw it, Free. We all did. The way He was torn, by… that thing.”

Free took his hands to his head and exhaled.

“Eruka, I don’t know why or how, but He is still here.”

The conviction in his voice made her whole body shiver. Her long, silver blue hair glinted in the penumbra as she approached him.

“Free…”

“Also,” he added in a whisper, finally looking at her with his mismatched eyes, “that thing we released… It’s not in our side.”

Liz wasn’t sure if she had heard correctly.

“What..?” she said, her eyes widening. “Kid is… dead?!”

“No.” Maka corrected. “Kid, is Death.”

Liz felt the heartbeats reaching her throat, her hands starting to tremble.

“You’re crazy!” she spat.

“It’s true!”

Liz took a couple of steps back with wobbling knees. She thought of the dark, immense power she had felt within the boy, every time he had wielded them. Then, she remembered each and all of his mysterious words, the vague feeling that there was something ancient, incomprehensible, watching her from behind his golden eyes…

She had to be insane, but it made sense. It made everything else make sense.

“Elizabeth-” Maka tried.

“You are crazy!” she shrieked, unable to hide the trembling of her whole body, as panic started to build up inside of her, because it explained too many things.

All that knowledge about souls. The way he could so easily grasp them…

“Elizabeth,” Maka called, as she approached the taller girl, trying a calming gesture. “He is the same boy that-”

“HE’S NOT!” Liz exclaimed. He is not even a boy, she thought in her turmoil.

“He saved your life, remember? He saved your sister…”

“It’s not the same!” Liz managed to say, retreating. “It’ll never be...”

She turned around and crossed the deserted parking lot, sprinting towards their motel room.

“Liz, wait!” Maka cried.

Inside the room, Patty was laughing with the rest of their small group.

“Patty!” her sister called.

“Liz?”

“We are leaving!”

“What?” Patty asked, surprised. “Bu-but, why?”

“Elizabeth, no!” Maka arrived to the room, panting. “Please, listen to me, you need to know-”

“I know enough!" Liz took her sister's arm and brought her up. "Come on, Patty."

Patty let her older sister drag her with her, mostly out of confusion, looking back and forth between her friends astonished faces and her older sister. She could see the pallor and sweat in her face, could feel the shaking in the hand that held her...

“Please, wait!” Maka pleaded, as Liz passed by her side, ignoring her.

Patty stopped just before crossing the door. "Liz, please tell me why-"

“We have to, Patricia!” Liz yelled, with more desperation than anger.

She had to take her little sister away from this place, from these insane people, away from crazy artists and anomalous terrorists, away from mad scientists and GOC assassins…

Away from Death.

“I’m sorry!” the younger sister said, looking into the room as Liz harshly shut the door behind them.

The sound of running footsteps outside dissapeared soon. For a stunned moment, the four people left inside the room could only watch the closed door in stupefaction. The atmosphere inside, so lively just a few minutes ago, was now completely silent and heavy.

Before Maka could fully register what had just happened, Blackstar exclaimed:

“What did you do, Albarn?!”

Maka did not answer immediately. She turned around slowly, to find Blackstar’s angry face. She would be risking everything, but maybe it was better to find out now who was going to stay and who was going to go back on this.

“I told her the truth.”

“The truth? What truth?” Tsubaki asked.

“What are you talking about?” Soul questioned.

Maka turned a bit to check that the door was still closed. Then gazed at the windows, securely shut, and with heavy curtains to isolate the room from the cold air outside.  She finally spoke in a low voice:

“Maybe you should know it, too, and choose by yourselves if you want to continue with this...”

“Know what?”

“What Kid truly is,” Maka answered.

That punishment had been disproportionate…

His whole body was still in pain, because of the strong restraints that held him for so long. Where he was now, he was not sure. But at least this lonely place was dark and silent, and that was always comforting. It was cold, too, but that didn’t bother him, never did.

Right now, he was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, knees against his chest and with his arms hugging his legs. He could feel the chaos pullulating everywhere around, all consuming and ever growing. His powerful perception could feel the minds of so many human beings, slowly descending into madness. He hid his face, and took a hand to his aching head, his long fingers threading through his black and white hair. The fight of that night had consumed most of his energies, but he was slowly recovering his strength.

He thought of his Father. Then, of his brother…

Until recently, he didn’t even know of his existence. Just like his face, his brother’s soul was strangely similar to his own, with its own flavors of loneliness and deep fears. But at the same time, it was completely different. It was smaller, to begin with. Still larger, though, than the tiny, bluish souls that were all around him.

His brother was not nearly as powerful as he was. Not nearly as old…

Asura thought of the little one, who could only watch in horror, the night when he destroyed their Father.

Chapter Text

REPORT 924BC-T132

The Foundation is currently researching a series of cases, characterized by an abrupt onset of symptoms in previously healthy human beings. The subjects present panic, paranoia and hallucinations, with little to none response to antipsychotics. Specialints have discarded an infectious cause, after several tests showed no evidence of viral, bacterial, fungal or prion proteins. According to the reports, this syndrome is similar to that presented by Dr. [REDACTED]. 

At the same time, there are notifications of an increase of sightings and attacks of the anomalies known as KHN92. Both of these phenomena seem to be related, and are not isolated. Distinct Foundation branches in every continent are observing this as well. Among the individuals suffering from the described symptons, hallucinations are strangely similar, even between subjects from completely different locations and backgrounds: the visions involve mostly clown-like figures, as well as a humanoid entity, that many have described as “fear itself”, “madness itself” or “the mad god”.

An affected artist made a portrait of this entity. It was observed that the resulting image was similar to the draw made by SCP-███,when under the influence of SCP-███ . Investigations by Foundation specialists speculate that [DATA EXPUNGED]. The entity has been temporarily designated Anomaly T-132.

In his laboratory, Dr. Jack Bright watched the jar he had just found, hidden in one of the many shelves used to keep all of the samples obtained by SCP-158.  There was no report about this specific one; the label had no more information than the word “Clown” written on it. No date, no more details, nor the name of whoever took it.

The luminous, smoke-like substance inside the glass shifted and glinted in front of his eyes, as he rotated the jar. There was a pull, an energy that was familiar to him. This thing wanted Jack to open the jar and make this essence his, to give into madness. Little did it know, that SCP-963 protected Jack against most forms of mental manipulation.

“Heiden, Sophia,” Dr. Bright called the two young researchers. “We need to check the security recordings. I want to know who brought this here, and how they obtained it.”

In the old motel’s room, Maka Albarn thought she should have readied her Class-A amnestic aerosol before saying those words, but it was too late for preparations now. She looked at the three faces in front of her, the three pairs of wide eyes and the mouths agape. At least, after hearing the same words, these three did not seem ready to run away.

“We have teamed up with who?” Blackstar uttered.

“He… he is,” Tsubaki stuttered.

“He is Death, as in… Death?” Soul asked, nervously. “The Grim Reaper? La Parca?”

Maka sighed.

“Kid told us, the Foundation, some things we haven’t told you…” she explained, trying to keep her voice steady. “You need to know exactly what we will be facing.”

“So, are you sure you can find a way to contain anomaly T-132?”

“If something works in SCP-8842, it’s very probable it’d be effective on it, too. That’s why it is vital to continue these experiments,” Noah insisted, like he had during the last hour.

In the dark room, he could not see the woman’s face. The silence was prolonging, and for a moment, Noah thought she would deny this.

“All right, doctor,” she finally said. “You have my approval. You may continue these investigations in Site-19. Anything else you want to discuss?”

“Actually, there is something you need to know. It’s obvious that both instances of SCP-6613 had internal help during their escape today, and there’s the suspicious involvement of both Agent White and researcher Maka Albarn-”

“We are aware of that," the woman interrupted him. "You won’t have to worry about Agent White anymore.”

“But, I must point out that-“

“Leave that to us,” the woman said firmly. “Understood?”

Noah bit his lip.

“Yes, Overseer.”

Soul spoke slowly, trying to make sense of everything the girl had explained them. “So, this thing we are going to fight is like… Kid. As in, one of the Great Old Ones.”

Maka nodded slowly.

“Beings of power, associated with different aspects of reality…” the white haired-boy continued, gesturing with his hands for support.

“Yes.”

“…Gods,” Soul finished.

“And Kid’s domain is… Death,”  Tsubaki interjected. "While our enemy’s is Fear.”

Maka nodded again, and they were all silent once more. Soul took a hand to his head, his mind spinning. That weird kid definitely wasn’t how he would have pictured an ancient, cosmic power. He remembered the boy had seemed so creepy and strange when he first met him, in that dark hallway while escaping from the Jailors; however, Soul then reasoned the yellow-eyed creature was not weirder than himself. Hell, he might have it easier to pass as “normal”…

His thoughts were interrupted when Blackstar spoke:

“I can’t believe this! I mean, I knew he was hiding things, but, I never imagined this,” he said between gritted teeth, his fists over the table. “Do you realize what this means?!

“Blackstar, wait-” Soul tried to calm him.

“NO!” Blackstar loud voice resonated as he got up, making his chair fall backwards with his quick move. “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?!”

“Please, just listen-” Maka said.

“I’VE FOUGHT AGAINST AN ACTUAL GOD!”

The rest looked at him in confusion. Blackstar placed his hands on Maka’s shoulders with a manic glint on his eyes and a strangely big smile on his face.

“We’ll take him out of that place,” the boy promised. “Then, I will show him, who will SURPASS who!”

“So.. are you, still in this?” Maka asked him, confused.

“Of course I am!”

“Blackstar…” Tsubaki mumbled.

“You’ll come with me, right Tsu?”

The Weapon turned to Maka.

“He… he truly wants to help us all, right?” she asked her, unable to hide a waver in her voice. “He’s in our side, isn’t he?”

“I’m certain he is,” Maka nodded.

She exhaled and Maka saw determination setting in her posture.

“I’m in,” she stated.

“Soul?”

The three looked at him, waiting for his answer, but the boy only focused on the green gaze fixed in his eyes, so hopeful. She only wanted to know if he was willing to go with her, and… breach the largest Foundation Site? In order to rescue Death himself? Then battle, all together against an evil, powerful, mad god?

Soul laughed. She had to be insane.

“Soul..?” she asked again.

He had to be insane…

“Maka… count with me.”

She was finally free. Free from the Foundation, far away from Marshall. Her sister was with her, safe and sound. They were together, and free.

Everything should be fine… but nothing was.

Liz was not running anymore, but she kept on walking, holding her little sister’s hand tightly, as she tried not to think about the boy. Trying not to remember the first time she saw his smile; trying not to think about how worried she had felt for him, more than once, in a way she had only felt for Patty before; wishing to erase all the feelings the memory of his voice brought with it.

She had thought he was just a weird teenager with weird powers. Just like she and her sister were, in a way. But this, this was something else entirely.

He seemed to be just a boy. What kind of wicked design made him look like that? With what hidden intentions?

To inspire trust, to mislead? To deceive?

Liz fought back the tears that threatened with falling. She had certainly been deceived; maybe not by him, but by herself, her false hopes. Why did she even imagine she could be… someone new? How could she believe someone like her could ever change? That she could fight her fears, have friends, become a hero..?

“Liz, what happened?” Patty said, again. “Liz, please talk to me.”

The older sister finally stopped. She realized they were in a lonely park. The rush of adrenaline was starting to fade, and her whole body felt beyond exhaustion. Liz sat in a bench and covered her face with her hands. Some minutes passed before she could finally muster the energies to speak:

“That girl, Maka, she told me what… what Kid truly is.”

“What?” Patty’s eyes opened wide. “Liz, what… what is he?”

Liz tried to open her mouth, but she was unable to pronounce it. It was just a word. One that conveyed everything. All that she had ever feared.

Her jaw set and her eyes filled again. Patty sat next to her, and distractedly balanced her feet.

“Iris said that they took him to a very bad place,” she said. “We shouldn’t leave him there!”

“I don’t think he needs us,” Liz mumbled.

“If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have trained with us!”

Liz did not answer.

“He would have escaped that creepy temple on his own, but he needed us to go save him,” Patty added, but her sister was still quiet.

Around them, the late autumn night was dark and silent. The trees had lost all of their leaves, and their branches moved softly with the cold air, creating eerie patterns of shadows. A sudden, cold wind blew and Patty shivered. As an immediate reflex, Liz took off her jacket and covered her little sister with it.

Liz had not doubt Maka’s words were the truth. That day, the last time they saw him, in the snowy, northern island, he said he was going to explain everything to them. Did he meant this? Liz remembered the werewolf from that last mission together, then, the young woman who controlled diseases, back at Site-17. The strange words Kid told them, the infinite terror in their faces.

Had they recognized him?

What would Liz have done, if she had known the truth from the beginning? Since that first day when they met him. The night he saved her and her little sister’s lives…

She felt that was so strange. He might be Death, but what he gave them was life. A second chance. A new opportunity, one she could not help but think she didn’t deserve…

Patty spoke again:

“You know, Liz? I don’t know what Kid is, but… I think I don’t care,” she said, and Liz could hear the smile in her voice. “He might be many things, but amongst them, he is our friend.”

Liz kept her gaze down, not looking at her sister.

Friend.

That enigmatic, otherwordly creature was her friend. The first she ever had. He trusted in them, more than that, he cared about both of them, she had felt it in his contact. By his side, Liz believed she could be someone new. Someone better…

Maybe, she still could be.

“Patty…” she mumbled.

“What is it, Liz?”

Liz didn’t fight against the tears anymore.

“I need to tell him.”

That cold morning, after only a pair of hours of sleep, two boys and two girls exited the motel room and rushed to Maka’s car.

“Wait! Don’t leave without us!”

Maka saw the blonde teen running to them. A long way behind her, breathless, came the older sister.

“Liz, Patty! You… you are back!” Maka smiled, as the little blonde hugged her.

Suddenly, Patty’s expression looked very serious; she looked sideways at Tsubaki and the boys, and said in a hushed voice:

“Liz told me, the secret…”

“Don’t worry. They know it now, too,” Maka explained her. “We are in this together.”

Patty’s smile immediately returned. "Of course! We are the Spartans!"

"Actually, it is..." Maka started, but she had already lost Patty's attention. She was looking back at her sister.

“Haha! Sis needs more exercise!” she laughed.

“You are just… too fast, Patty!” panted the older sister.

The black car crossed the streets at high speed.

“Where are we going now?”

“To the closest library!” Blackstar exclaimed.

“Why?” Patty asked.

“We’ll open a Way to enter the Wanderer’s Library, there we can find M. B." Tsubaki explained. "She’s a powerful witch, member of the Serpent’s Hand, and one of the few people that has ever managed to breach Site-19.”

A rush of adrenaline was fueling Maka and she had to be careful not to accelerate too much. Tsubaki was riding shotgun, as she knew where this town’s Library was. The boys and the sisters were in the backseats. Maka thought that this was not the safest way to travel, but that was the lesser of her worries right now.

The part of this plan that preoccupied her the most was the fact that M. B. was a witch…

"Liz, Patty. You need to know, " she said, without taking her eyes off the street. "Witches have a very bad history with... Death. If they discover the truth, they won’t help us!” she stated.

"So, we must lie?" Patty asked. "All right!"

Soul took a couple of papers to the sisters. “Here, read these!”

“Chain team-resonance?”

“Dr. Stein’s theory,” Maka explained, finally turning her face back a bit to see the sisters. “We were discussing it yesterday.”

Liz examined the text.

“He thinks we can all… synchronize?” she asked. “The seven of us? Do you think that’s possible?”

“We’ll have to find out!” Blackstar exclaimed.

Patty took the page her sister had just finished and started to read.

“Meister? What does that word mean?”

“It seems that he refers to whoever is wielding the Demon Weapon,” Maka explained.

The black car came to a sudden halt, and parked just outside Town’s Library. The group rushed to get down and enter the building. They walked together between the bookshelves, to the hidden depths of the small library.

“I’ll open the Way,” Tsubaki said in a hushed voice. “I’ll need you all to follow me, it’ll be easier if we take hands.”

Before she could even finish that sentence, Blackstar’s hand was already on hers, strong and firm.

Maka quickly grasped Soul, finding his hand immediately, without even looking at him. Her other hand took Blackstar’s free hand, and Patty, who was dragging Liz, held Soul’s.

Then, the world around started to distort.

Chapter Text

The space around them was changing, where there were small, wooden bookshelves before, now Maka could see massive cabinets with endless racks of books. To her left and right, countless floors appeared, reaching up, far beyond her gaze. The white roof disappeared, and her neck hurt as she looked up at a wide, dynamic ceiling, that had the aspect of a purplish night sky: pink clouds drifting, constellations shining and bright stars shooting under the impossibly high vaults.

The suspended lamps, shaped like celestial bodies, illuminated the many antique, marble statues, as well as the more modern, abstract sculptures that decorated the Library. Maka could see the many visitors, people that seemed to belong to faraway places, both in time and space. Walking the hallways, consulting the texts and studying on tables, there were all kinds of colorful beings, a chevalier, a group of fairies, brass automatons, a small dragon, a king…

Maka had always loved books and libraries, and this was the place of her dreams. Everything she could see was so full, but at the same time so open and free, this space invited to wander in every direction, to walk forever along its bridges, catwalks, ramps, and stairways.

“Tsubaki, this is… this is amazing, I…” Maka uttered, her eyes wide as she turned around, taking in the place. She had read about the Wanderer’s Library in the Site, it’s existence uncertain and more details unknown, described mostly as just the Serpent’s Hand hiding place. “I never imagined this, this is…”

"AWESOME!” Blackstar completed, his hand still holding Tsubaki’s.

“This is our home,” Tsubaki smiled. “A place for whoever needs it, open to everyone. The rules are simple: return your books, try to keep silent, respect and never harm another wanderer.”

A black cat walked towards them.

“Tsubaki!” a feminine voice came from the little feline. “You brought new visitors?”

“Midnight,” Tsubaki addressed the cat. “We are looking for M. B, do you know where she is?”

“She isn’t in the Library,” Midnight answered, her paw on her chin, as in reflection. Maka blinked; the voice was definitely coming from the cat, but she didn’t see her open her mouth. “She must be within her realm. Only a witch can take you there.”

“Thank you, Midnight,” Tsubaki smiled and she turned to the rest. “We need to find Kim!”

The group walked through endless hallways, climbed countless stairs and crossed many large rooms, as Maka tried not to distract looking at the fascinating titles, the thousands of volumes, imagining that even if she spent the rest of her life here, submerging in a new book everyday, she would only read an infinitesimal fraction of them. Tsubaki explained her that the Library housed every book that had ever existed, everything ever written not only in their universe, but in each and all of them.

“Some say, there are books here that were never written," Tsubaki said, "those that were imagined, but never found ink and paper.”

Maka noticed enormous, spider-like creatures, who climbed the bookcases and snatched the volumes in the highest shelves for the wanderers who required them. She could also see many silent, tall figures, their faces hidden by brown hoods, guiding other visitors. Those were different types of librarians, Tsubaki explained.

On a large, antique table, under the light of a star shaped lamp, Maka recognized short pink hair.

“Kim!” Tsubaki called her as they approached her.

“Tsu? What is it..?” The witch turned around and her eyes immediately widened as she saw the group. “What… what are you doing here?!” she asked them, getting up immediately.

“We need to find M. B,” Tsubaki explained.

“M.B?”

“She is the only one that can help us now,” Maka said.

Kim looked between their faces in confusion.

“Why do you need her?”

“We need to rescue Kid!” Patty exclaimed.

“Kid?” the pink haired girl gasped, shock in her face.

“He’s trapped somewhere called Site-19,” Liz said.

Maka observed the witch, her face paling and her posture wobbling. A quick peek into her soul revealed a deep fear surging within her, as well as shapeless doubts and uncertainty. Tsubaki had told Maka that Kim didn’t like to work with other witches, and Maka hoped the reason behind her doubt was just that.

“I… I could arrange a meeting,” Kim said, a waver in her voice, “but, it will take long before she can receive you.”

“But, if you tell her it’s urgent?” Maka said, unable to conceal the desperation in her voice.

The witch avoided Maka’s eyes. She was trying to hide the trembling in her hands, but Maka still noticed it.

“Kim…” Tsubaki told her. “Kim, please...”

The witch took a couple of steps away from them, looking around, at everything except for their faces. For a second, Maka thought she would not help them...

“I can take you to her," Kim said with an exhalation. "Follow me.”

The group stood in front of a wooden door.

“This is an entrance to the Witches' Realm, you can only cross it with a witch,” Kim explained. “Wait here for a moment. It will be better if I speak to her first.”

“Of course…”

The group saw the girl cross the door in flash of light.

“Maybe I should have mentioned this before,” Tsubaki said, thinking aloud. “M.B. isn’t any witch, she is their queen.”

“The queen?!” the others gasped.

“She joined the Serpent’s Hand since its origins, a couple of hundreds of years ago," explained Tsubaki. She narrated that the queen's objective had been to lead the witches to more peaceful ways, and described that she created laws and trials, in an attempt to keep under control the most violent tendencies among her people. "Still, there are many that don’t adhere to her rules or authority.”

After Tsubaki mentioned that last bit, Maka remembered what Dr. Stein told her about the witch Medusa Gorgon.

After half an hour, the door opened and Kim reappered.

“M. B. will receive you now.”

The team crossed the treshold, out from the Library and into a new place. They suddenly found themselves in a small town, walking over a path of stones, under a cloudy sky. Around them was a multitude of houses, all of different colors, dusky red, blueberry, olive green, chestnut, maroon and violet, each one of a unique shape and size. Their way zigzagged, as they followed Kim through the irregular streets to a large palace. As they crossed its gardens toward the big doors, Maka saw plants she had never seen before, not even in the Foundation’s botanical research departments. There were trees of multicolor foliage, there were small bushes full of thorns with gigantic, dark flowers, there were plants that were moving...

“This way,” Kim pointed, making Maka focus on her, as she led them into the halls of the palace and then into an enormous room. Its walls were made of glass, so the garden and its marvels were visible from within. Different kinds of plants were hanging from the high ceiling. Maka noticed that this large room seemed to be some kind of amphitheater, and that there were some people occupying the seats. Maka observed them, their souls were of purple shades, something she had learnt to recognize as a characteristic of the soul of a witch.

They advanced through the central pathway, and soon they were standing in front of a high pulpit. A pair of doors behind it opened and a tall woman walked through. She had long black hair and Asian features. Her sagacious pupils and the reddish colors of her kimono made Maka think of a fox. She felt a shiver, as she remembered the creature they called SCP-953. But her soul perception revealed that this woman’s soul was purple, too.

“Is that M.B?" Maka asked Kim, "is she the queen?”

“No, our queen is right behind her,” Kim said, pointing at someone Maka hadn’t even noticed before, a short figure that was almost entirely hidden by her dark attire, her face shadowed by a pointy, classic witch hat. Kim pointed discreetly at the fox witch and hushed her voice as she said: “She is the judge.”

“We are on trial?!” Maka gasped.

“Not really,” explained Kim. “You are not witches. We won’t impose our rules or punishments on you.”

“But… but, what if-” Soul uttered, nervously.

“She’ll only make you some questions,” Kim quickly said, in a low voice. “Remember, the objective is simply to decide if M.B. will help you, or not.”

With that, the young witch walked to the side to take a seat, far both from them and other witches.

The judge took her place behind the pulpit and the queen took a seat next to her. The fox witch observed the teens standing right below.

“So, this is the team,” she said with a strong, dry voice. “What do you want?”

“We need your help.”

“Why would we help you?” the judge asked.

“We want to rescue someone from the Foundation,” Maka said, taking a print form Blackstar’s worn backpack and extending her arm up, handing it to the witch.

“You want to breach into the largest, most heavily secured Foundation Site,” the judge answered as she took the sheet. “Not an easy task.”

“M. B. has done it before,” Maka said.

The judge raised an eyebrow as she looked at the heavily redacted copy of Kid’s containment procedures, probably confused from how little of the “item’s description” was visible.

“I wonder what makes this boy so special,” she uttered, thinking aloud.

“He is a Type Re-, I mean, a regenerator-”

“That’s not what I meant,” the witch interrupted Blackstar. She was looking into Maka’s eyes. “It’s not like a jailor had ever given a damn about the fate of one of their prisoners.”

Maka felt her face turn white, but before she could answer, Patty exclaimed:

“He is our friend!”

“Your friend?” the judge said in a bitter tone, turning to the sisters. “As if you knew what that word means. I know who you are. You two are the Thompson sisters, the infamous devils of Brooklyn. You were working for the Merchants. Tell me, how many people you helped kidnap?”

Everyone could see the sudden panic on Liz’s face.

“We… we didn’t-” she stuttered.

“How many you took to Marshall? To be sold on his auctions, and as mere objects in his catalogues.”

“He made us do it!” Patty yelled.

“We had no choice!” Liz exclaimed, at the same time

“There is always a choice!” the judge spoke with a strong voice. “How do we know you are not still working for him, that you are not planning to ‘rescue’ this kid, only to sell him to the best buyer?”

“That’s… that’s not true!” Liz said.

There was the sound of the voices of the witches watching, rumoring all around them. The rest of the group was looking at the sisters in stupefaction. Liz was quiet, not daring to look at the judge.

“Please, let us explain!” Maka exclaimed, taking a step towards the judge.

The witch ignored her. Her eyes then fixed on Patty, who looked away.

“I’m sure that, before kidnapping them… you also pretended to be their friend.”

“HEY!” Blackstar yelled. “That’s so not fair! You really think you know us?!”

The pupils of the judge’s eyes irradiated rage as they focused on Blackstar.

“You especially have no right to speak about what is fair, bookburner!” the judge spat the word as it was poison. “How much of our blood is in your hands?”

“Blackstar has changed!” Tsubaki cried.

The witch huffed with barely concealed laughter.

“You’ve always been so… naïve, Tsubaki. For not to use an uglier word.”

Blackstar took a step forward.

“Listen! I don’t care who you think you are!” he yelled. “Don’t speak to her like that!”

“As if someone like you could change,” answered the judge. “I know more about you than you think. All your family ever knew was violence. Must have been fun for the bookburners, to turn the last member of the Star Clan into their attack dog. I wonder whose idea was that!”

Blackstar fought against the impulse to punch something. The last thing he wanted was to prove this woman right. The blue haired boy closed his fists, digging his nails on the skin of his palms as he tried to resist the anger.

“Please,” said Maka.

“Look at you. Trying to look small, now?” The judge said suddenly, looking at Soul. “Like we didn’t know the kind of things AWCY has done, just for a little attention…”

“Just listen to us!” Maka yelled, but promptly contained herself. “Please…”

“You still have not answered my question,” the judge calmly told her. “Why this boy, why him alone, and not any of the other, hundreds of souls rotting in that place?”

“The truth is that he is… our biggest hope in saving the world,” said Maka.

The Judge frowned.

“It is true. The world is in danger,” Tsubaki interjected. “The Hand has seen it, too. Strange monsters, hungry for souls, appearing everywhere.”

“It’s because an ancient evil was released by the Chaos Insurgency,” explained Maka. “It’s the Mad God, threatening us all!”

M. B. got up from her seat with a jump and spoke for the first time:

“How do you know that?!”

“The Foundation’s been working to stop those things,” Maka said quickly, “and we discovered what happened. What the Chaos Insurgency did.”

The whole room was silent now. Maka noticed that, without letting their strange group out of her sight, the judge exchanged a couple of words with M. B, in a language she didn’t recognize. Before Maka could say anything more, the judge spoke again:

“What does he have to do with this?” she asked.

“It’s… because he… he is…” Maka hesitated, cursing herself for not preparing something.

“He might be pivotal, in an incoming battle,” Kim uttered.

“What? Why?” the judge questioned, her narrowed eyes now focusing in the young, pink-haired witch.

“Apparently, he knows how to stop the Mad God.”

A pair of guards took the teenagers to a small room, to wait for the witches to deliberate. That had been more than one hour ago. Sitting on a couch, with her gaze on the ceiling, Liz looked as if she had taken a beating. Patty was asleep, resting against her sister’s shoulder. Blackstar kept pacing around the room his fists closed and jaw set. Tsubaki seemed about to approach him, but desisted before trying. Maka could not conceal her anxiety, and found herself biting her nails again, something she hadn’t done in years. Sitting next to her, Soul was taciturn, his eyes fixed on the door, not too far from them.

He turned to Maka, about to tell her something, but before he could say anything, the door opened wide, and some of the witches entered, the queen and the judge amongst them.

The judge’s face was serious as she approached them. “We’ll give you a chance,” she said, and everyone was up with a jump. “But we’ll need something first.”

The queen approached Maka. “We have been planning an assault in one of the Madmen’s bases. Kim said you have done that before.”

“The Madmen?” Maka asked.

“The Chaos Insurgency…” said Tsubaki in a hushed voice.

“A member from the Serpent’s Hand, Marie Mjolnir, is missing,” M.B. explained. “We believe she is there. Our plan is to release all of the prisoners, in a highly dangerous mission.”

“If you are as nice as you claim to be, help us rescue those people,” the fox witch said, and Maka nodded firmly. “Then, we’ll consider helping you in breaching Site-19.”

Chapter Text

Joe Buttataki could remember that night, some months ago, when he was driving his jeep through the dusty air of the Australian desert, the adrenaline keeping exhaustion at bay. He knew he had to keep his eyes on the road, but could not avoid turning his head back carefully, to see the little twins sleeping in the back seats. Then, he tried to look at his side, at the woman who watched the road ahead with a stern expression in her face. She was as frustrated as he was, and Joe couldn’t think of anything optimistic to say in that moment.

“There,” she suddenly pointed, and he had seen in the distance the silhouette of a large, abandoned house on the side of the road. Joe headed the vehicle on its direction.

They parked just outside, and when they took each of the kids in their arms, the little girl woke up with a cry, startling his brother too.

“It’s okay,” Marie Mjolnir hushed gently. ”We’ll be resting here tonight.”

The closest town with a library was still very far away.

The Serpent’s Hand had sent Marie and Joe to stop the Madmen from getting their hands on their targets, the pair of young siblings they were carrying, prophesized by their people to become powerful wielders of natural forces. Joe sighed as they walked towards the house; they had been too late, barely on time to rescue the twins after the insurgents killed their whole family.

A couple of hours later, while the twins were sleeping on a makeshift bed, the sound of heavy steps making the wood creak gave away the approaching danger. Joe opened his eyes to find Marie already up, watching intently the closed doors of the room.

“They’re here,” she said, her fingers crackling with lightning. “You have to take the twins somewhere safe,” her firm voice stated, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“But, Marie-”

“Joe, go!”

The man hesitated at first, but finally nodded and took the little kids on his arms. Maybe he should have stayed; maybe he should have told her not to fight alone, that they could battle together. Her power multiplied whenever he wielded her.

However, he doubted they could match the way they had done before, when others were their feelings towards each other. Besides, right now, the children’s safety was first. He jumped through the window the very moment the doors opened and lightning flared behind him. He landed heavily, but unscathed, even though the weight of the children almost made him lose his balance. He ran to his jeep with the pair on his arms, and quickly jumped inside, placing them on the back and soon accelerating into the road.

He heard the kids starting to cry, and tried some comforting words in their mother tongue, wishing he could speak more of it…

When Joe finally got to the Wanderer’s Library, he waited there for Marie. But as the long hours became endless days, and the days turned into weeks, she never arrived.

The witches took Maka and her team to one of the rooms of the Witch Queen’s palace, and offered them a seat around a large, wooden table. Maka turned her head to look at the walls, where she could see large, colorful maps of strange places. One of them seemed to be the Witches Realm itself, but she did not recognize the other locations. The girl thought this large chamber reminded her of the conference rooms back in the Site, where the Foundation higher ups planned their strategies. However, this place was so different, with walls of warm colors, adorned with painted plants and animals, a total contrast with the cold, gray Foundation.

“Coffee?” a tall, muscular man said, addressing the teenagers.

“Yes, thank you,” Maka immediately accepted.

“This is Joe Buttataki, member of the Serpent’s Hand,” M. B. presented him, and Maka didn’t miss a special fondness in her voice.  

The well-mannered, gentle giant of a man, with his sincere, but tired smile, awakened Maka’s curiosity. As she was holding the steaming cup in her hands, she activated her Soul Perception and took a peek of the man’s soul. Seeing it felt like finding another pair of eyes looking back at her, a sensation she had experienced before, when she looked into Kid’s soul.

She realized this man could perceive her spirit, too. Maka blinked and found his stare fixed on her, with a growing smile. The cup almost fell from her hands, spilling some of its content over the table.

“Sorry,” she quickly apologized.

Some witches present narrowed their eyes at her, but Maka didn’t see them, thinking only the man’s eyes still focused on her as she tried to clean the mess.

“Our contact said we’ll have a good chance tonight,” M. B. stated, looking at the people reunited around the table.

“Tonight?!” Liz gasped.

“We can do it! Right now if we have to!” Blackstar exclaimed.

“You must understand, this isn’t simply one of their little bases, it is the biggest of them all,” explained the Witches’ Judge. “The Madmen’s most dangerous members are stationed there.”

“I can use spatial magic, to transport you very close, but not inside,” M. B.  said. “One of them stole something from me, and can wield my very power. If I take you too close to him this way, he’ll know immediately, and they’ll be ready. We need to be especially careful.”

“Also, we’ve got a friend inside, she will help us enter,” Joe Buttataki added.

“She sent us this map,” a gecko witch said, placing the planes on the large table. The place was an underground facility with the shape of an inverted pyramid. “The prisoners are held in the lowest level,” she explained using a wand to point at the areas in the map. “In order to reach them, you’ll have to cross the entire structure. The most powerful of their assets will be waiting on each level.”

“We’ll need you saidto keep them busy, while Joe and our contact release the prisoners,” the fox witch, looking at the team of teenagers. “Can you do that?”

Maa closed her fists. “We will do it!”

The night was still many hours away, so M.B. invited the teenagers to eat and rest in her palace. As everyone present left the room, Maka stayed back in there a little longer, looking at the map of the Witches Realm. According to Tsubaki, M.B. had used her magic to create the whole place, a location that was somewhere and nowhere at the same time. The young researcherremembered many things she had read before, descriptions of pocket dimensions and locations outside conventional space. Maka knew that thaumatology could be studied, magic could be learned, but only to a certain degree, and not everyone had the capacity. Something related to varying Hume levels within individuals.

In order to achieve something like this, M. B. had to be a really, really powerful reality bender…

“So, how old were you when you found out?” a jovial voice behind her made her jump. She turned around and saw Joe Buttataki.

“Find out… what?”

“The sixth sense,” Joe smiled.

He sat on one of the antique chairs that decorated the room, and after some hesitation, Maka sat in another one next to him. She decided to be truthful:

“I discovered it very recently. What about you?”

“Since I was a little kid,” Joe explained. “My mother taught me to use it.”

Maka didn’t answer. She wondered why her own mother hadn’t talked to her about all of this. There were just so many things she had hid from her daughter. Maka felt she could not be angry at her, not when she missed her so much, but yet, she was.

The man noticed the abrupt change in her expression, or maybe in her soul, and he tried another subject. “So… M. B. says you wanna breach Site -19. That you plan to rescue a friend.”

“Yes...”

“Couldn’t you take him out, from within?”

“Not from that place.”

Joe observed her carefully. “Why are you with the Foundation?”

“I grew up in there,” Maka replied, without looking at him. She realized the man was looking at her soul, again. It never occurred to her that it could be this uncomfortable. She remembered that all the other people that had seen her soul before had been people she trusted... Dr. Stein. Kid.

“That friend of yours,” Joe said immediately, and his posture changed, moving closer to her, as if to tell a secret. “Is it true… that he might know how to defeat a god? The god of madness?”

Maka pressed her lips, in fear of giving any hint that could possibly lead these people to discover the truth. And if the witches believed in that image from old horror stories, maybe so did Joe, who seemed to be so close to them. She tried to choose her words carefully.

“He knows this threat better than any of us. Better than anyone,” she said in a firm voice. “Actually, that was the reason he came to the Foundation, willingly. So we could learn how to-”

“Wait! He went willingly?” Joe asked, his face incredulous.

Maka nodded. “And now, they locked him up.”

Joe huffed. “Well, that’s what the jailors do!”

She looked away from Joe, and both stayed silent for some minutes.

“I have seen the Mad God,” Joe stated suddenly, to Maka’s shock.

“What?!”

“I thought those were just dreams,” he uttered. “Until M.B. explained me the truth. That this… thing was real.”

Joe thought of that pale face, framed by black and white locks. He remembered the unnerving gaze of that pair of inhuman eyes, staring straight into his soul. The nightmares felt so real, maybe even more than reality itself... Was that the Madness?

“You should rest,” Joe said, as he got up with a jump that startled Maka. “We’ll be out in a couple of hours.”

Joe left the room and headed straight to Queen Maba’s personal chamber. The pair of guards in the doors allowed him inside immediately.

“Joe,” the Witch Queen said as he entered, turning around to face him. “What are your conclusions?”

“The girl is telling the truth. Her friend can help us, or at least, she truly believes he can.”

The queen’s clothes did not reveal her full face, but Joe sensed relief in her heart, perceived the hope in her spirit. He knew the kind of things that were weighing on her soul, both the new dangers and the reappearance of old enemies.

“Thank you, Joe.”

The twilight sky was blood red. Ahead of them, the group could distinguish the silhouette of a large factory.

“How are we going to get inside that place?” Soul questioned.

“Our contact is approaching,” Joe said with a smile.

Maka activated her Soul Perception and noticed a spirit walking to them. She had a purplish aura and, at first, she thought she was looking at the soul of a witch. But it wasn’t exactly that, somehow, this soul reminded her more of the soul of an animal…

“Hi, Joe!” a voice called with glee, and Maka blinked to see a tall woman approaching, of purple hair and wearing a short leather dress, matching with high black boots.

“Blair!” Joe replied with a smile.

“You’ve brought a quite interesting team,” Blair said, grinning at the teenagers, her gaze lingering for a bit longer in Soul.

“What’s the plan?” Maka questioned, taking a step forward, between Blair and her Weapon.

Blair motioned for them to follow her as she explained. “The werewolf is in in the first level, next is the samurai, and then is Crona, the Demon Sword. Two of you will face each, as Joe and I get into the lowest level.”

“Crona?” Maka asked. Demon sword? Could that be the teenager they met before?

“What about Medusa?” Joe asked.

“That ugly witch won’t be here tonight!” Blair responded with a giggle.

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know,” she purred. “She didn’t tell Blair.”

“Leave the samurai to me,” Blackstar said darkly, a growing suspicion taking hold of his mind.

“All right, Soul and I, we’ll get the Demon Sword.”

“That leaves us the werewolf, Patty,” Liz smirked. She then turned to the woman. “Hey Blair, I have an idea…”

Free’s eyes were drifting closed, but he got up with a jump the moment he heard the steps. “Who’s there?!” he yelled, his body morphing into his werewolf form.

“Geez, Free! It’s just me!” Blair answered. “You’ll scare the new recruit!”

“New recruit?” Free questioned, the claws and the fur receding, as he stared at the blonde girl that came behind Blair. He took in her ocean blue eyes and sun kissed skin, her bare midriff and the gun on her belt. The sight of the silver weapon provoked within him a vague, fearful feeling, like a sudden vision during the day that would remind him of a forgotten nightmare.

The werewolf frowned, it made no sense he would be afraid of a gun. Such weapons couldn’t kill him…

“She isn’t allowed into the lower floors yet,” Blair explained, “but maybe you could show her around.”

The blonde smiled at him and he felt his face change colors. He turned towards Blair again.

“I’m supposed to be watching this entrance-”

“Don’t’ worry, I’ll take your place!” Blair winked one cat eye. “You’ve been working so hard!”

The werewolf’s gaze drifted again towards the girl. “All right… What’s your name?”

“Follow me, quick!” Blair said. “I don’t know for how long Liz can keep him busy!”

The woman then shapeshifted into a black cat and nimbly jumped down the stairs, followed by Joe, Blackstar and Maka, the two teenager’s Weapons already in their hands. They quickly arrived to the next level and Blackstar stopped in his tracks when he saw a familiar man, with long blonde hair and a katana on his hands.

“YOU!” Blackstar yelled, clutching Tsubaki firmly on his hands.

“Blackstar?” Maka mumbled, wondering what this was about…

The samurai walked towards them and positioned to fight. “I told you I don’t want to harm a kid. But I see you won’t give me a choice”

“Go, quick!” The blue haired boy yelled, without turning to look at the others. Maka knew there was no time to make questions, so she just nodded, and ran behind Blair and Joe. The moment Mifune turned to stop them, Blackstar jumped to place himself between them and the samurai, letting them run past. The boy’s eyes shined like stars as he snarled through gritted teeth.

“You’ll pay for what you did!”

Blair, Joe and Maka arrived to the next level. In front of them, Maka saw a silhouette she had seen before, a night that now felt so long ago. She took in the lilac hair, the long black dress, the dark sword and the trembling spirit that combined Weapon and meister, two as one…

Crona is their name, Maka thought, as she stared into gray eyes, dead cold and empty.

Maka barely saw Joe and the cat sprint, each taking a different route through the sides as she ran straight towards Crona, raising the scythe with a wild cry.

Far away from the lair, in the SCP Foundation’s Site-17, a witch walked on bare feet through the dark hallways, her steps straight towards her destination, as she left a trail of bloody corpses behind her. Another pair of guards appeared, but before they could shoot, two vector arrows instantly crossed their hearts.   

This place was exactly as the snake witch remembered it. She reached the medical wing, and soon, his room. She saw him sleep, as she had seen him every night since some weeks, in her crystal ball. She entered quietly and sat on his bed, next to him. Her fingers stroked his face as she spoke softly…

“Did you miss me?” she asked him.

The man’s eyes didn’t open, but Medusa was certain he could hear her.

“You know? Many said the reason you came here was because you wanted to cut down and dissect living things, discover what was inside and made them work, learn as much as you wanted, with no one questioning you…”

Her hand moved to his hair, and his lips curved into a smile as she started to play with the silver locks.

“But, I know the truth,” Medusa continued. “It was the other way around. You came to the Foundation because you wanted someone to stop you.”

Another guard was approaching them slowly, believing she hadn’t noticed. She lifted one finger, and her vector arrows tore him to pieces, before he could interrupt them. She came closer to the man resting on the bed.

“You were quite aware of the madness within you, and you wanted rules to restrain it. You wanted a stupid Ethics Committee to put some limits on it. You wanted the almighty O5 Council to watch over you.”

She placed both hands on his face and approached him slowly. Her lips almost touching his, but she then moved to mumble on his ear.

“This is suffocating you. Drowning your true potential,” her voice was a soft hiss. “I made you an invitation when I left. I’m making it again…”

Frank. N. Stein opened his eyes.

“I knew we should have never trusted you!” Eruka yelled as she threw another bomb at Blair, the cat barely managing to escape the explosion. Blair retaliated using her pumpkin cannon, not worrying about destroying a pair of walls from the dungeon cells. She had to give Joe enough time to release the prisoners.

Another bomb by Eruka destroyed the entrance to a reinforced cell. Taking again human form, Blair threw herself over Eruka, both women falling and rolling over the stone floor. Focused on their fight, none of them noticed the Weapon, now turned kishin, who emerged from one of the damaged cells, hungry for souls.

Medusa and Stein found each other’s’ gazes, and she mirrored his distorted smile.

“Stein,” Medusa said. “Come with me.”

Her eyes suddenly widened in dread, and her heartbeats accelerated as she felt a powerful presence approaching.

“Stay away from my patient,” SCP-208 growled. “Snake…”

Medusa got on her bare feet with a jump and looked down on Bes. The skip’s wavelength was quite strong, and she could feel it trying to drive her away, attempting to force within her soul some kind of wild panic, as if he could make her run. Maybe that would’ve worked before, but now… It almost made her laugh.

“Your manipulation tricks won’t work, Bes. Not after what I’ve seen.”

“You know very well, that isn’t all I can do,” the Egyptian man said, as he took a battle stance.

Medusa raised her arms. “VECTOR ARROW!”

The sword had grazed his skin a couple times now, but it was as if he couldn’t feel the pain. All he could think about was that this man had hurt Sid, and that he couldn’t stand seeing his loved ones hurt. Blackstar fought his anger and hatred fueling him. The only thing that could he could feel. If there was something that could keep him under control instead of launching himself into a mad rush, it was the contact with Tsubaki. The boy tried to strike again, but the samurai’s katana stopped the ninja blade.

Blackstar jumped back and mumbled. “Tsubaki, chain scythe mode.”

A flash of lightning enveloped the blade as the Weapon shifted into a completely different one. The samurai blinked in surprise

“Your weapon, your weapon is?”

“My weapon is unique!” Blackstar exclaimed, as he threw one of the sharp ends against Mifune.

Soul’s blade received another hit from the dark sword.

“Maka, we cant’ win!”

“We don’t have to win, just give them enough time. We have to use the Soul Resonance!”

Their souls contacted and the large, half moon blade appeared. Soul had to admit they were fighting way better than the night they first met the demon sword, but still, no matter how many times they got to hit their opponent, the black blood wouldn’t allow further damage. This was exhausting Maka, Soul could feel through their link, the way

“They have trained to fight their whole lives,” a voice in Soul’s mind said. The voice that belonged to the small, red devil. “You are just some artist with a blade. You have no way to defeat them!”

“Shut up,” Soul growled.

“But if you use the black blood…”

Soul didn’t want to respond, he tried to resist the urge to ask, but he had to make the question:

“If we use the black blood, we’ll win?”

“If you use it, you’ll survive!” the tiny devil said, with a hint of desperation on his tone, and Soul had to be going mad, because he felt there was true concern in the little monster’s voice. “Don’t you see that is my only goal?!”

“He is right, Soul,” Maka said suddenly, and he saw she was right there with him, within his room. Soul wondered when she had gotten here, it had to be when they started the resonance. “We can make this fight last, but if we keep like this, they’ll eventually kill us,” she explained. “I have a plan. But we need to survive for long enough to try it.”

Soul sighed, but he finally nodded.

Using a set of enchanted keys, Joe freed Asuza and Nygus, then Spirit, and finally, he crouched in front of Marie.

“Long time no see, Mjolnir”

“Joe!” she smiled, as her grills fell to the floor. In the dark, she abruptly noticed the shadow coming behind him…

“JOE!”

Large blades like those of a guillotine struck Joe’s back. During a fraction of a second, Marie realized she could still recognize in the creature’s face the features of the unfortunate Justin, now more monster than human. The blades came out from Joe’s body, as the man fell to the ground. Electricity ran through her whole body and she used all that energy to hit the kishin and send him flying away from them, the rest of the Weapons rushing against the new enemy.

“Joe… Joe!” Marie cried, holding the man on his arms. She tried to put pressure over the wounds, but they were too large.

“Marie…” he mumbled.

Through the tears, Marie saw Nygus coming to them. She crouched next to Joe and searched for a pulse with a bloodied hand.

“Joe!” Marie called again, but the man did not answer this time.

“Marie,” said Nygus.

“We need to help him!”

The Egyptian nurse closed her eyes

“It’s too late.”

A wave of luminous energy pushed Medusa back, burning like the desert sun. Bes’ soul was powerful, but she could tell he was rusty; too much healing and no fight practice. Her vector arrows prepared to deliver a blow, as he concentrated light on his hands. But a movement behind him distracted Bes.

“Dr. Stein?”

The man was on his feet now. He gave Bes a crooked smile and punched him using his wavelength.

Bes yelped in surprise and pain, as the hit sent him falling, but before his body could hit the ground, the witch laughed and her arrows sent him crashing through the walls, opening wide holes. Medusa doubted this would kill him; the skip had survived much worse. But he wasn’t getting up, and that was enough for now. Medusa saw no point in wasting more of her time and energies now.

She turned back towards Stein. He had given her his answer. But before they could leave…

“There is something here we’ll need” Medusa smirked.

"Tsubaki, smoke bomb!"

Blackstar felt his energy gathering within him, concentrating on his fist. The technique that strange man had taught him came so naturally to him. He prepared and with a swift move, he delivered the vicious hit. The samurai felt it striking his soul, and he fell to the ground. Blackstar walked towards him preparing his Weapon, as the man coughed blood over the floor.

“This power…” Mifune gasped. “I had only seen it once before.” The boy raised is sword above the fallen man. “Whitestar,” the samurai mumbled.

“Nooo!” a tiny girl came running and placed herself between Mifune and Blackstar

“Angela, no,” the samurai said, but she extended her arms in front of the man.

“I won’t let you harm Mifune!” she yelled, and she kicked the boy on the shin. She couldn’t be older than six.

“Who… who are you?” Blackstar questioned with a wavering voice, retreating some steps.

The samurai tried to incorporate, using one knee for support and placing an arm in front of the girl, pushing her back. “I’m protecting her, from the likes of you.”

Soul could barely understand what had just happened, after whatever the little demon did. Maka´s body just kept fighting, protected by the black blood, but her mind and soul drifted away, into that void where souls were visible. There, she had talked to Crona.

He could not hear the words, only catch glimpses of the feelings they were sharing, filtered through the resonance. At some point, Maka had left him to the side. He returned to his human form, watching as Maka embraced Crona, both sitting on the floor.

Soul could understand there was fear in them, but whatever the two of them talked was their secret, and he didn't pry though the resonance.

“Soul!” Maka called him, helping Crona stand up. “We need to go, they might need help!”

Blair carried Joe’s body, while Spirit and Marie had partial weapons on their arms, ready for an attack and Nygus carried Asuza in Weapon form.

"Wait, what is that?" Nygus said, as they all could hear the sound of approaching, running footsteps.

"l go check," Spirit said. It didn't sound like another kishin, but if it was another, he was the most experienced with those things.

He went up the stairs up and as he jumped into the hallway, he saw a short, blond girl carrying a scythe. As soon as she saw him, she stopped in her tracks, just a couple meters from him. For a moment, both were mute, staring at each other.

"Spirit!” called Nygus, who came running behind him, “Spirit, what is it?”

“Spirit?" the blond girl asked. "Spirit Albarn?" 

The man could barely nod, his eyes wide, his whole posture frozen. The girl's, familiar green eyes were open wide and they brimmed with tears.

“Father?”

Chapter Text

Spirit still could remember walking the hallways of that enormous house, the largest in the small, secret town. A night without moon, his steps echoing in the silence as he reached a balcony. The Lord of Death was there. Spirit looked at Him; in the penumbra, it was difficult to distinguish where his robes ended and where the darkness started. That night, He explained Spirit what happened to those that devoured innocent souls, the kishins, and how to purify them again. Like with many of his explanations, most of it was vague and confusing.

Spirit was afraid to ask Him about something that had been on his head for a long time now, and he hesitated before speaking, but finally made the question:

“Sir… What is down here, below this hill? Below this city?”

The Lord of Death didn’t answer immediately, and for a second, Spirit thought He was going to ignore his question. Sometimes He did that.

“Its the first kishin,” He finally said.

“The… first?”

“His name is Asura. He was a strong warrior, but he always lived in fear of everything and everyone, and thought that only power could save him. In order to become more powerful, he devoured hundreds of innocent souls. Those he was supposed to protect.”

Spirit kept his mouth closed, not knowing what to say. For some minutes, all he could hear was the sound of the desert wind.

“It’s because of me, that he became that way,” He spoke again, and Spirit could perceive there was a deep emotion on his reverberant voice. Which emotion exactly, the man could not precise... “Everything he did, it was my fault. I had to teach him, but I didn’t know how…”

Spirit took a couple of doubtful steps towards the Lord of Death.

“Sir… I don’t think that, whatever he did, is on you.”

He turned slowly towards Spirit, and the man saw again the distant light, watching him through the skull’s empty sockets. Spirit felt this was so unfair, that Being could delve into his very soul, but Spirit could not even see a facial expression…

“You would not say that,” He said, “you would not say that if you knew…”

He suddenly became silent, and soon, Spirit heard the quickly approaching footsteps.

“Father?” a voice peeped. It was the little kid, five or six years old. As soon as he saw his Father, he ran to Him. The child hid his face among the black robes, his small hands grasping the cloth in his fists.

“What’s wrong, kido?” He asked, and Spirit was surprised of how that deep, echoing voice, could sound so tender.

The boy finally showed his face, tears on his eyes.

“I had the bad dream, again!”

Spirit watched how a hand like a shadow, with long skeletal claws, reached to caress the child’s hair gently, while the darkness around seemed to embrace the tiny frame. The little one closed his eyes, smiling softly, and Spirit wondered just what kind of things would be in that creature’s nightmares.

The man reflected that, for him, the worst dreams were not the nightmares. He could experience all kinds of fearful scenarios, only to wake up and have gratitude wash over him, because it was not real, it had been just his imagination.

No… The worst dreams for him were always those where he would find she had returned, she loved him still, and had brought their daughter, a baby that looked so much like her. He would take the little girl on his arms, but then… he would wake up with nothing, no one within his arms.

Because it was not real, it had been just his imagination…

“Father?”

Spirit could not believe it, he had to be dreaming.

“Father!” the girl cried.

Even in the faint light, he could see how the girl looked so much like her, the green eyes, the ash blonde hair held in a pair of pigtails. The tears in her eyes, the smile that suddenly illuminated her face. She left the scythe resting against the wall as she sprinted towards him.

"It's you! It's really you!"

He felt certain of it than from anything in his entire life, she was his daughter. It happened just like in his dreams, a young girl opening her arms, calling him father, and just like in his dreams he received her and held her close…

Usually, the dream ended here, and all he wished now was that it could last a bit longer, that the awakening could wait. But both her frame in his arms, and the beating of his own heart felt too real.

"What… what is your name?" he whispered.

“It’s Maka. Maka Albarn,” she replied, cleaning the tears in her eyes with her sleeve. He could not believe it, all this time, she had her name next to his. He held her hands on his, he didn’t want to lose more time, he had lost enough…

“Sorry to interrupt!” urged Nygus. “But we need to move!”

Blackstar was mute, and he retreated slowly. To his mind, came the memory of Sid’s story, about the day when he protected him, when he was only a baby. He saw the way the samurai rested a reassuring hand on the little girl’s shoulder, his body exhausted after the battle, but his eyes filled with determination to protect. A part of Blackstar thought, that this was exactly how Sid looked when he confronted his comrades.

He could not feel the anger fueling him, not anymore…

“Blackstar,” Tsubaki mumbled, now in her human form next to him.

“I know!” Blackstar replied. He sighed and turned around. “You think I would kill a child? Let’s go, Tsubaki!”

He walked determined steps in the direction of the place where they would meet the rest.

“Blackstar! Tsubaki!” a familiar voce called, and both could see their group. The mission was complete.

In Site-17, an explosion outside that large containment room destroyed the first door, made of steel. Another two tore apart the next pair of doors, both covered by ceramic. The snake witch walked inside, closely followed by Dr. Stein. In the center of the large room, there was a Faraday cage; both could see the block of rubber inside of it. Medusa smiled as black snakes like arrows shot through the floor, the ceiling and the walls. They penetrated and destroyed the cage, and then did the same with the block of rubber, letting the pair see more clearly what was hidden inside.

A metallic, rectangular block, with protrusions shaped as strange letters.

The snakes grasped the object and retreated. Extending her arms, Medusa received SCP-1139 in her hands.

In a remote island, very far from both the Chaos Insurgency lair and from Site-17, a woman woke up in the middle of the night. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her accelerated heart.

"God is with Us. God is not the aloof Emptiness: She hears Us... God is not of Anger: She welcomes Us. God rewards our Sacrifice: She is Fair," she muttered. She got up quickly and ran into the hallway, the metallic ornaments of the walls glinting with electrical light, as she repeated her prayers. "God is Broken: She is as We are." 

Before entering the large common room, she could hear their nervous words of the young devotes, half of them still teenagers, who were serving as guardians of this sacred place.

“Something is wrong!”

“You felt that, too?”

“Priestess!” one of them said, as soon as he saw the short, round woman enter the room. “What was that?

She looked at the reunited group, all of them so young, much younger than her. Most of them hadn’t even started their standardization process. The priestess closed her light blue eyes and sighed.

“As you know, long ago, the Foundation took from us most of the fragments of the Broken One,” she explained. “They would not let us access them, but at least, they were safe in that place. Until now…”

“What happened, Auntie?” one of the youngest teens asked her, clutching nervously in her hand the medallion hanging from her neck, one that depicted the stylized shape of the hammer and the lightning .

The priestess closed her mechanical fists, her face somber as she spoke:

“A bloodied hand, a mind with evil intent, has clutched one of Her fragments.”

After many hours, in the Wanderer's library, Marie Mjolnir tried to smile as the young pair of twins she and Joe had rescued ran towards her, but could not hide the falling tears. Asuza and Mira watched in fascination the enormous, strange place, one like they had never seen before. Patty told the rest in their team about how Liz had given the werewolf a pill on a drink, and how he was probably still asleep. In a corner, careful not to approach too much the rest of those present, Crona hid.  

Maka knew they would only need some time. Just like herself; right now, she was overwhelmed with so many feelings. She had found her father. They had rescued those people. Crona had chosen to join them. But Joe was dead. There was something dangerous, that black blood, within Soul. Kid was still trapped, and Maka doubted the witches would help them now. Not to mention their enemy’s shadow still loomed above them all…

But she had found her father. Her finally father was finally here and that was she wanted to think about right now.

 “I’ve been waiting for this for so long …” Maka mumbled as she leaned into her father’s embrace.

Spirit took her hand in his hand, and she felt they could communicate, just like she could talk with Soul in his weapon form. As if the rest of the world wasn’t really there, like the moments she and Soul spent in that mysterious dark room of his mind.

I can’t believe it. There were days I thought I would never meet you. You are so beautiful, so brave… just like your mother…

Then, her father told her about that day when he met her mother, and then when she helped him escape from the Foundation. She told him about growing up in the Foundation, about her pain when her mother disappeared.

Through the contact, their conversation continued, intimate and secret. She shared with him the way she met Death, how she discovered his secret and how he was now at risk in the Foundation.

Spirit couldn’t believe it. The witches, of all people, are going to help with the rescue?

We didn’t reveal his secret to them. And… I still don’t know if they will help... Maka told him in her thoughts, but then, the Witch Queen and the Judge approached them, and she focused her perception in them. The grief she could perceive in the Witch Queen’s soul felt just too painful and she blinked, shutting down her soul perception.

“M.B. has made her decision,” the Judge said. Maka looked down, guessing what the next words were going to be- “You’ll count with her power on this.”

“What?" Maka exclaimed, surprised. "You… you are really helping us?!” 

M.B. approached her, her steps short and silent.

“Well use magical portals, I’ll open them inside the Site, for you to enter and exit. But It won’t be easy. The place is heavily protected against our magic. We will need precise calculations, and the cooperation of many witches.”

Maka was noticed a pair of strange people coming behind the witch. A man and a woman, both with masks hiding their faces. The man was wearing enormous bear head, while the woman’s bird mask was smaller and more delicate, like that of a carnival; it covered her head almost entirely, and hid her hair in a plume of dark green feathers. The mask had beak that reminded Maka of SCP-049.

She looked at both of their souls. She noticed the man’s soul looked like those of the Weapons, and there was something strangely familiar about the woman’s…

“Tezca Tlipoca is an specialist in mirror magic,” the fox witch explained, as the man and his friend, Quetzalli, approached them. “He has helped us before, when breaching Foundation sites. M. B. will use spatial magic to create the portals in and out of the site, while he will maintain us communicated trough mirrors.”

Radio signals could be easily intercepted in that place, and something in the Site interfered with many magical devices. Telekill alloy, they called it. But Tezca’s powers worked very differently. The judge remembered how, since so long ago, mirrors had been present in the witches’ most terrifying stories, those that described how the Lord of Death would use their glass as a window, and sometimes as a doorway, to the utter horror of his unfortunate victims. However, in the recent years, Tezca’s assistance had turned such a feared object into an instrument to help others regain freedom. The fox witch found herself smiling; it only added to the satisfaction that the man had developed that special communication technique precisely by studying the legends about their oldest, most terrifying enemy and his stratagems.

“We will meet tomorrow,” M. B. stated. “I’ll let you know of the place, we’ll need one with a powerful magic, to help boost the required spells.”

The witch and the bear headed man seemed to exchange a brief communication, and M.B. told the girl:

“Maka Albarn. There is something we will need from the Foundation. Something you can bring us.”

She nodded, noticing the bear headed man started to walk away, but the woman with the feathered face remained standing where she was.

“Let’s go, Quetzalli,” Tezca told her.

The masked woman’s green gaze seemed to linger on Maka and her father for a moment, before finally turning around to catch up with Tezca.

“What is it?” Maka asked the Witch Queen.

“We’ll need an amnestic antidote.”

Chapter Text

FIVE YEARS AGO

The woman closed the door of her hotel room, her heart on her throat, her hands trembling. There was no doubt about it, they had seen her. Chances were, they were already going up the stairs. They had the whole building surrounded, she had a pair of minutes, maximum, before they found and captured her.

She knew what would happen, they were going to take her to Baba-Yaga, their secret hideout, and force her to spill everything about her investigations and every bit of knowledge related with her workpace, the SCP Foundation. She was certain they were interested in one secret in particular, something she had kept hidden, even from the Foundation itself. She couldn’t let her enemies know it, the terrorist organization would use that information for their wicked objectives.

The woman saw the open window, but an attempt to escape through it, being in the top floor, would be suicide. She gasped, thinking about how often, those guarding dangerous secrets would carry a dose of poison with them, for occasions like this. But she had something… different. Frantically, she opened her suitcase and took out a small, black case. She grabbed with trembling hands what was inside, a one-use syringe with a silver stripe, a single dose of a Class-F amnestic.

There was no other option. The more she knew, the more that was at risk. Not only the secrets that could put jeopardize this world's normalcy, the truth about that old city in the middle of the desert and what was in there, but also, there were the dangers for her loved ones, her young daughter. The woman strapped a cloth just above the elbow, distinguishing easily the bluish tracks on her pale skin. She used her mouth to pull the knot and steeled herself as she carefully introduced the needle in her vein, and quickly emptied the content.

Fugue.

Full identity erasure.

She was going to escape, in a way. It was the only way to maintain the secrets safe. They were going to capture her still, take her to that horrible place, but there would be nothing to share, no past. Truth was, most of the times the Foundation used this particular amnestic, a whole new identity was prepared for the individual. But that wouldn’t be possible this time. A part of her felt like it would be like doing this to someone else, to make a stranger go through all this, as she would not be herself anymore, not exactly. She would become someone who wouldn’t have a way to know what was going on…

But it was too late to regret it now, anyway. She felt dizziness beginning to invade her and barely had enough time to get rid of the syringe before the full effects kicked. She wanted to feel hope, to think that the Foundation would rescue her soon, and then, they would use the antidote only they knew.

She felt the memories escaping her reach, like falling leaves, blown by the wind. The smiling face of her beloved daughter was the last image that appeared in her consciousness, as her vision became blurry and her mind became blank. The world tilted and she heard a distant thud. She vaguely realized she wasn’t standing anymore, her green eyes closing the moment the door was thrown open and members of Arachnophobia rushed inside.

In a study in the depths of her castle, hidden in the Amazonian rainforest, the witch Arachne consulted every book with any information available on memory, taking note of all possible restoration spells and potions. The team she had sent to bring her this Foundation scientist had followed the woman for almost a week, many times losing track of her location, until they finally captured her, three months ago. Arachne’s sources said this researcher was investigating the event that happened 800 years ago, the battle between ancient powers that changed the world. The spider witch even found that her sister Medusa had worked with this scientist. Chances were, this researcher had found the place where Arachne’s greatest enemy resided, old and at his lowest in power, maybe even more weakened than the witch herself was.

Arachne interrogated the researcher in the dungeons since the very moment she woke up. At first, the witch thought her claims of not knowing the answers to her questions were mere lies. However, when not even the torture nor the most powerful truth serums could change her answers, the witch realized it wasn’t an act.

This woman truly had no idea of who she was.

Arachne sighed in frustration. Foundation people were proud of their amnestics. Nobody surpassed them when it came to memory manipulation. They used those things like candies, and never left their houses without them. Arachne realized that the stupid woman had done this to herself, and her stupid minions hadn’t even stopped to search for whatever substance she had used, so the witch didn't even have a sample to work with.

She closed the last book she had consulted. There was not even the slightest bit of information about anything the amnestic could have been made of, much less an antidote. the witch sighed and took a sip of her red wine. A part of her admired the woman’s determination, but that did not mean there would be mercy for her. The secrets Arachne wanted so badly had to be still inside that brain, and the witch was going to find them, even if she had to drill a hole in her skull-

The sound of an explosion made her jump. She got up and exited her study quickly, finding one of her minios running to her in the long stone hallway.

“Lady Arachne, we are under attack!”

The witch closed her fists. This could not happen in a worst time. Her loyal servant Mosquito had been captured by the Foundation a couple of months ago, and Giriko was on a far away mission…

“By who?” she asked.

“The Global Occult Coalition!”

Sid Barret jumped down the stairs, shooting two more enemies down, running into one of the long, dark hallways of the enormous, spider-shaped lair, heading to the dungeons.

“Sid, where the hell are you going?!” Agent López exclaimed.

“We have to release the prisoners!” Sid answered.

“This place is going about to blow!”

“Go! Don’t wait for me!” Sid yelled back as he ran into the dark, spiral stairways.

“Sid! SID!”

There was the noise of explosions again, this time louder than before. Sid checked each of the cells and found only one of them was occupied. The woman inside, with a worn black dress and ash blonde hair, crouched in the far end, her eyes closed and her hands over her ears.

“Hey! I’m here to help!” Sid called, as he worked on the padlock with a lockpick. “Come with us, we’ll take you out!”

The woman seemed confused for a second, but got up quickly, and ran to the iron bars as Sid struggled with his tool.

“Allow me!” López yelled, “you’ve never been good with these things.”

“López! I told you to go!” Sid exclaimed, seeing his comrade arrive.

“As if you would have left me behind,” Agent López said, as he easily made the cell door open. “Let’s go!”

The two men and the woman ran through the crumbling stone hallways, screams and fire erupting everywhere around them, as each of the eight pillars of the palace fell down. As the three exited through the enormous entrance, the high ceiling collapsed, burying everything behind them. The woman panted, feeling she was about to faint, the rips of her dress sticky against her skin. The wild rainforest was hot, even at night, and with the race for their lives and the fire growing behind them, her body was burning. She fell on her knees and tried to recover her breath.

“You need to get up, please,” the tall, brown skinned man said gently, helping her stand and supporting her with his strong arms. They walked toward the vehicles, as the men led the way. The tall flames illuminated a blue pentacle and three letters.

G. O. C.

Something awoke in the woman’s mind. An instinct, a faint memory, a scrap of knowledge. A number, no, series of numbers. She tried to focus, but her head hurt, she could not remember what they meant, still, she became certain of one thing: the gocks, they only come to destroy. They only come to kill.

“No... no," she gasped, between breaths, as she felt the man half carrying her, dragging her with them. She looked around, hearing the shots and explosions, seeing the fire and ruins, smelling the smoke and the gunpowder.

It is all they ever do... All they know is violence, you’ve seen what they’ve done... We are right. They are wrong...

"NO... NO!” she yelled, and couldn't realize the second in which she started to scream, escaping from the men's hands and running into the trees, the branches ripping further her already destroyed dress. She heard the men calling her, begging for her to wait, but she was only thinking about putting as much distance as possible between those murderers and her.

In the depths of the Amazonian jungle, inside a small, wooden cabin, Tezca Tlipoca lighted another cigar, as he registered on his journal his latest discoveries. Next to his lamp, rested a couple of books on linguistics, an ashtray and a closed letter. His friend Enrique laid on a hammock, already asleep. Tezca exhaled a cloud of smoke, closed his journal, and looked at the letter. It was from the University, and he didn’t want to open it, as he imagined what it was about. All he told them before leaving was that he would be investigating the linguistic peculiarities of South American tongue. That was no lie! He was working with a group of spider monkeys, deciphering their special way of communicating.

The night in the rainforest was full of music, the songs of crickets and cicadas, the melodies of water, the current of a river, not too far from their camp, and the hushed notes of the falling rain. But suddenly, the completely unexpected sound of somethink striking one of the cabin's walls from outside made both Tezca and Enrique jump.

“Enrique, did you hear that?!”

The monkey nodded. Tezca feared it could be a wild animal, but then, the clear sound of a pained cry, convinced him of going out to investigate.

He opened the door, carefully moved to the side the mosquito net, and took a couple of steps outside, carrying his lamp.

“Hello?” he tried, as the raindrops fell on his face, the lamp illuminating only the agitating, wet vegetation around him. He narrowed his eyes and distinguished a frame in the shadows, rising up.  

“¡¿Quién anda ahí?!” Tezca automatically exclaimed on his mother tongue, as he pointed the light in that direction. The lamp illuminated the face of a woman.

“¡No! Por favor… Please…”

Tezca felt shocked. He took in her scratched face and the disheveled hair, the trembling on her limbs...

“Pero qué… what the hell happened to you?”

“Please...” she begged.

“Let me help you," he said, and he approached her slowly. "I promise I won’t hurt you.”

He took her hand, helping her walk inside the cabin, where he offered her some water. Sitting on the hammock, Enrique watched the newcomer curiously.

“What happened to you?” Tezca asked her, again.

The woman didn’t answer immediately, but after some minutes, she spoke, her voice a faint whisper.

“The witch, she had me…"

“What witch?" Tezca questioned. Anyone would have considered the woman to be delirious at this point, but Tezca knew very well such was a very real possibility. “What are you talking about?”

"And then... then they came…”

"Who? Who came?”

“Gock,” she answered.

Now, Tezca definitely knew what that meant. He listened attentively as the woman narrated, with many pauses and hesitation, how she had been kept prisoner by a witch, and managed to escape when the Coalition attacked. That had been three days ago. 

“What is your name?” Tezca asked her.

Her expression became ridden with uncertainty. “I don’t know...”

"Where do you come from?" He asked her. "Where is your family?"

It didn’t took Tezca long to understand that the woman could not remember anything from before being captured by the witch. Who was she? What had happened to her, exactly? What if the GOC was still looking for her? Or the witch? He could perceive, in the reflection of his mirror, the deep fear and uncertainty that overwhelmed her soul.

"I have no idea... I don't know who I am," the woman sobbed, and Tezca couldn't deny it brought painful memories of his own past, his long search for answers and so many questions about himself. She feared the GOC, that could only mean was either anomalous or somehow linked to those who were, and she would be in danger anywhere else.  Tezca he was certain of one thing: he had to help her. Tezca promised her right there that she could stay with him until they found out who she truly was, he swore he would hide and protect her. 

“I need to call you something,” he said, looking at her green eyes like jade, like his favorite bird's feathers. “What do you think of Quetzalli?”

“Quetzalli…” she mumbled.

One morning, a few weeks after finding each other, Tezca and Quetzalli were sharing some sugary bread, accompanied by steaming cups of hot chocolate he prepared. Tezca had taken her with him as he returned to México, and prepared a room for her on his small apartment in the Capital. She was adapting quickly, but her memories didn't seem to be returning. The woman took a sip from her cup of chocolate, and tried not to grimace at the unexpected, spicy taste.

“This is prepared with… chili?” she questioned.

“Yes! It’s an authentic Aztec recipe,” Tezca explained with enthusiasm.

Quetzalli tried to smile and took another sip of her drink, more prepared this time.

“You know? The old legends say that xocolatl was a gift from the gods,” he said, and Quetzalli perked her face up with curiosity. “A long time ago, there was a beautiful and generous Aztec princess. Her beloved husband trusted her with their city’s secret.”

Quetzalli’s face changed, her mouth fell open and her eyes shone. “I think… I think I’ve heard that story before, somewhere,” she said. “Please, tell me more.”

“The forces of evil captured the princess, desperate to obtain the secret, but she never revealed it, not even after cruel torments. The gods were so admired of her courage, that they made a tree grow from her spilled blood. Its fruit was the gods’ own food, the cacao.”

The woman closed her eyes inhaled the scent of the steaming cup in her hands. “The food of the gods. El alimento de los dioses,” she spoke fluently.

Tezca had discovered that Quetzalli spoke at least four other languages, the words coming out easily when she needed them. English seemed to be her mother tongue, tough. He soon realized that was not the most impressive of her talents: this woman could perceive souls. Her ability didn’t work the same way Tezca’s did, this is, by reflecting them on the mirror that was his own spirit, but rather like a sixth sense. He discovered her ability when he experienced the sudden sensation, as her light reflected on his mirror, that she could see herself, within him. That had given him an idea.

“Quetzalli… I wat to try something.”

“What?”

“I think I can help you recover your memories. Maybe if we could, link our souls.”

“Link our souls?”

“I have done it before, by reflecting Enrique’s soul. That way we’ve shared memories, experiences and even concepts. It’s what allowed me to learn how to communicate with him, and other simians.”

Tezca could see the unease in her posture, the doubt in her eyes, but she nodded, decided to give it a try. Face to face, they took hands and focused on each other's souls. They both could pinpoint the moment when a connection surged, supported by her decision to trust him, and his wish to help her. Through the link, they began explore her mind. Most of it were memories from the last months: Arachnophobia’s dungeons, the attack by the men of the blue pentacle, hiding in the rainforest, then finding Tezca and the weeks on his apartment…

Suddenly they were in front of a wall of darkness. Holding each other’s hands more tightly, their souls submerged into the blackness.

Nothing was clear in the amorphous dark. There were uncertainties, strange concepts, difficult to grasp. As they immersed deeper, they divised a distant shining, a lighthouse within a sea of confusion. They realized it was a number, no, series of numbers, that somehow belonged to her. But she was certain, they were more than numbers. It came with the faint memory of running through white hallways, the sound of the clang of heels on the tile floor, the heart full of horror, decided to save him.

Then, only darkness. Dozens of lights started to appear on it. They realized it was the night sky in the desert, full of love, full of awe...

Suddenly, they were in the darkness again. Then, there was light when a door was thrown open; in front of her, there was the scene of a red haired man, another woman on his arms. The memory came with the feeling of tears filling her green eyes, rage filling her voice, and then it was all blackness again.

Together, they dived through the shadows again, and both heard the sound of a baby crying. A soft light illuminated a new scene. There was a white room, there was a blonde baby girl, crying in Quetzalli's arms, as she held her for her for the first time. She could hear her own voice speaking softly as the baby started to calm and looked at her with big green eyes, just like her own. The memory disappeared slowly, just as it came.

Quetzalli could feel tears brimming in her closed eyes, and both she and Tezca knew their souls were quickly exhausting. For a moment, it seemed that there was nothing more, no more memories to retrieve in the dark, but then, a new image appeared…

It was a bright day, infinite sands shining gold. Under the blue sky, a tall figure was looming above Quetzalli. It was cloaked in black, shadows agitating all around it, like smoke, like dark feathers in the wind. Its face was a jawless skull, beyond its empty eye sockets, shone a bright light. The scene was uncanny, but the sensation that accompanied the memory was of… Peace. Awe. Hope.

The strain was too much and the connection suddenly broke, their hands separating as if hit by an electric discharge. Both fell backwards, in opposing directions, over the floor of Tezca’s apartment.

“Quetzalli! Are you okay?” Tezca said, trying to get up.

“Yes,” answered the woman, who had a hand on her head and a grimace of pain on her face, though. “Did you see that… too?”

“Yes, yes I did.” Tezca nodded quickly, as he approached her and helped her stand.

“What does it all mean?” she said, and she could not help but sob. “Who am I?”

“I, Quetzalli, I…” Tezca hugged his friend as tears ran down her face. It seemed that all he managed to do was further add to her pain and confusion. The thought made him feel a pang of guilt. Nevertheless, a part of him felt more curious than ever. From all the memories that he could see in the woman, the last of them was especially intriguing for him...

Had this woman crossed the Apanohuaia river, and then came back?

Tezca could remember his own uncertainty and desperation, when he was trying to find answers about who and what he himself was. Back then, when he was studying everything he could find about mirrors and their magic, he saw an image that sealed strongly on his mind. It was a faint draw, in an ancient codex about obsidian mirrors, used for travel and communication by an arcane, eldritch being. There was the depiction of that same dark figure, with the face of a skull, and eyes like stars.

A deity revered by his ancestors. The God of shadows and the souls of the dead.

Mictlantecuhtli.

Maba looked at the masked man who approached her, in the Wanderer’s Library. Her friend always wore that funny bear head whenever he came in here. To protect his identity, as if he would be in danger in this peaceful place. However, the man, Tezca Tlipoca, trusted Maba, and only her, enough to remove the mask in order to talk. He had brought someome else today. A woman, wearing a carnival style bird mask. Apparently, she shared Tezca's paranoia.

"M. B., this is Quetzalli, the woman I told you about..."

Tezca had told the Witch Queen how he found Quetzalli, her mysterious amnesia and his promise to help her find what she lost. Maba understood Tezca, the man had gone through so many difficulties, searching for the truth about himself. They had met each other when the man, ten years younger, asked her, the oldest of witches, if she knew what he was. Maba remembered the image of the scared young man, almost a kid, desperately looking for answers. Because of many of his characteristics, Maba thought of the Weapons created by the traitor witch Arachne so long ago.

Could Tezca be one of them? But he was a mirror. A mirror was not a weapon…

Who decided what was one? Maybe the circumstances did. After all, the scythe, her greatest enemy’s signature weapon, was originally a completely different kind of tool. Maba would never forget that precisely the mirrors had been, if not weapons, useful instruments for him. The reason why she prohibited them within the Witches’ Realm, even today. If Tezca was a Weapon, he was like no other. Maba told him, back in that day, what she knew about them, but made very clear that she was not even sure if he was one. She had always been truthful with him, maybe that was the reason why he trusted her so much.

"Maba is with the Serpent’s Hand," Tezca told Quetzalli. "She's helped families reunite, and she's released many captured innocents. You can trust her."

The woman had been unsure before, after hearing M.B. was a witch, but decided to believe in Tezca. The witch saw the woman remove her mask to reveal fine features, bright green eyes and ash blonde hair. She described to Maba the way a witch held her prisoner, trying to take a secret from her, one she could not even remember. Apparently, that witch had used all kind of potions and magic in a futile attempt to retrieve the desired information. When she finished her story, Maba told her she needed to talk with her friend just for a moment.

"So, what erased her memory?" Tezca asked Maba, while not too far from them, Quetzalli gazed at the Library's starry ceiling and the endless bookshelves. "Do you think it was a spell?"

"No, had it been magic, a witch would have found the way to recover her secrets. This kind of memory loss, it’s not the effect of a potion, or spell…"

"Then... of what?"

Maba exhaled. “The Jailors are experts in the use of amnestics."

“So, you think it was the Jailors?” Tezca’s voice raised, and he tried to contain himself. “She discovered something about them, and they did this to her?"

Maba tried to think about it. The Foundation was infamous for an exceptional ability to eliminate a secret from a brain, they could delete the partinent, undesired memories with surgical precision. The idea of the Jailors fully erasing a mind, then abandoning their poor victim where she could be immediately taken by their enemies... Maba would not say they were above that, but something just didn’t sit right about that theory. If the Jailors were something, it was meticulous. They were forces of order, always in control, almost to the point of obsession. They never left things to chance.

They would not be this careless.

Maba always felt the Jailors reminded her so much of her oldest, most terrifying enemy, maybe even more than the Coalition’s murderous fury did…

“We’ll need to consider many possibilities,” was all she said.

Her mind could not stop thinking of Lord Death. Maybe because of comparing him again with their current persecutors, maybe because of thinking about the Weapons, maybe because Tezca was a mirror. She almost felt the man was reading her mind, when he made the question:

“Maba, please tell me about something. What do you know about Mictlantecutli?”

The witch felt a shiver when she heard that name. One of his many names. The old memories still made her heart ache, the lives lost to his vicious attacks, the terror weighing on the souls of her people, the feelings of impotence and rage, of fear and sadness in their queen…

“Why do you ask?” she mumbled.

Tezca hesitated at first, biting his lip. He felt he would be betraying Quetzalli if he told M. B. what he had seen within her mind. But after a reflecting a bit, Tezca decided that trusting M. B. everything that could be of importance was necessary to help his new friend.

“I think she met him.”

“What?! Tezca, are you sure?”

“He looked just like in an Aztec codex I read, shadows like feathers, the face of a skull, eyes like stars…”

“Where?!” Maba asked him, an unusual desperation on her voice. “Where was he?”

“I don’t know. The place looked like a desert…" Tezca said, as he realized he had never seen the Witch Queen this worried. This afraid. “Maba, why, why are you..?”

Maba sighed. As Quetzalli continued exploring the Library, the Witch Queen told Tezca about Lord Death. The way he had hunted her kind. She told the man about many brave witches, who tried to stop him, but the most powerful enchantments and most destructive spells never managed to even scratch him. He was just too powerful for any of them to confront, even for her. Many said he justified his slaughters by claiming to be protecting humanity from witches, from the worst among their kind, as it was true that many of them were violent. Some of the peaceful ones learnt this, and considered they could reason with him. They had their souls ripped from their bodies before they could open their mouths.

Maba then told Tezca about that day, eight centuries ago, when he suddenly disappeared.

“So, if Quetzalli has seen him… it could mean?” Tezca whispered.

Maba thought that many things made so much more sense now, about the witch who hurt Quetzalli, what could she be truly searching for. She had now an idea of who could that be, the old spider witch Arachne, someone Maba suspected since the moment they mentioned the GOC had recently destroyed her hiding place. But just, how and why did this woman see Death? Were the jailors involved? What if the woman..?

Maba closed her unique eye.

“We’ll find a way to recover her memories,” she promised Tezca. “It could be not only your friend’s past that needs saving, but also, our future.”

As the queen saw Tezca and his friend Quetzalli leave, she was left wondering if he was back…

Or if he had never left.

TODAY

"Maka Albarn. There is something we will need from the Foundation. Something you can bring us.”

She nodded, noticing the bear headed man started to walk away, but the woman with the feathered face remained standing where she was.

“Let’s go, Quetzalli,” Tezca told her.

The masked woman’s green gaze seemed to linger on Maka and her father for a moment, before finally turning around to catch up with Tezca.

“What is it?” Maka asked.

“We’ll need an amnestic antidote,” Maba explained. “Many have tried to retrieve those before, but failed. You’ve worked in those places, so you’ll know where to find one.”

Maka watched sideways at the strange, animal headed pair, walking away from them. She blinked and her gaze returned to the witch. 

"I will get one," she stated firmly. 

Chapter Text

He was restless. He was anxious and angry.

It all had been so peaceful. He was almost happy with the doctors at Site-19. They provided him with test subjects, and he could focus on researching and developing better surgeries. The doctors understood it, they were men of science, just like himself. It was peaceful and good.

But things changed two weeks ago.

The day had begun like any other. The tall man could not see the faces of the many guards transporting him that morning; they wore helmets that hid them completely. They were taking to another wing of the facility, for the doctors to interview him. As always, the Site’s scientists seemed very interested in learning about the results of his latest research. He hoped he could put some order in his thoughts so he could explain his discoveries and make his points very clear, but his mind was too fuzzy, his steps very sluggish. He wouldn’t understand why the guards insisted that he should take the sedatives before transporting him, but he had no problem with complying. Neither with wearing the locking collar, the handcuffs and the extension restraints that kept him at a safe distance from his handlers. They were always wary, and he wouldn’t blame them for that. He had had some outbursts in the past, and ended up grasping and clawing at whoever was close. His touch, as always, had been lethal.

No that he meant for any of that to happen. So, he just kept on doing his best to comply, as he followed the guards through one of the many, endless hallways in this place… It was then, when he saw him.

From the other side of the hallway, another group of guards was coming. They were transporting a boy, heavily restrained, in a similar way to himself. Yet, he walked straight and calm, with an air of dignity that nor the leash on his neck nor the cuffs on his hands could diminish.

The tall man stared as the group passed next to him, and his eyes found those of the boy. His eyes were as yellow as his own, yet even brighter and more vibrant. He looked nothing at all like the last time he saw him, but he recognized him instantly.

SCP-049 could not remember clearly the events that followed. He turned around brusquely and tried to catch up with the boy, calling him by his name, in his mother tongue, not worrying about dragging the guards in his desperation, making a couple of them stumble and fall. They pulled at his restraints and he had to stop abruptly, the leash at his neck pulling violently, yet he somehow managed to scream at the boy, asking him where had he been all this time. There was no reply, and the last memory is the scent of lavender drove him into unconsciousness.

EXCERPT FROM REPORT 8842-B47, BY DR. FRANK N. STEIN

Even as the Hume levels of a determined reality vary and shift, the effect is not only a more or a less stable reality, but also, an imbalance between its primordial aspects (…) For example, recent discoveries show that the faculties of SCP-668 (13” Chef’s Knife) function by raising the Hume levels around it (up to >670). The observed effect is an “apathy field”, one that makes the object’s victims unable to defend, and those around them unable to act, despite any feeling of fear. It’s been hypothesized that an even higher Hume level, within this “domain”, could suppress completely that emotion, every feeling, leaving only a mechanical cycle. Maybe, something like this could be SCP-8842’s own, particular form of [DATA EXPUNGED].

“I had met you before. I visited your father and met you, when you were so tiny. Your father wouldn’t stop talking about you, but honestly, I don’t know what he saw in you. You were such a small and weak thing. Nothing at all like little Arthur, he was something else. Since his very first years, he shined. Not that everyone could see his light, the inexpert eye fails to distinguish a true gemstone from glass. But he… he was all dignity, majestic. Truly one to become a King. Did I ever tell you about our legendary adventures? Fool! I did.”

Kid looked around, hearing the words, but only half listening. This place was completely white, almost like the last room he had been in. But, at least in that room, there were still the visible edges, the doors, the corners…

In this place, there was no discernible form or shape; except for the being sitting on the floor in front of him, drinking from a cup of tea. Its long snout reminded him of the strange creature that had called him by his name in his first day in the Site.

Where is the Site? What is the Site?

“I remember, the day I met you. It’s not a good memory; you were so annoying, wouldn’t stop crying. You could not understand how much others might appreciate silence and tranquility. Then, your dad got angry with me, just because I hit you,” the creature stated, and sipped his tea. “You deserved it. I miss little Arthur.”

The small creature’s body, and all of its clothing, were entirely white and barely distinguishable. All except for the black pupils.

“Excalibur?” Kid suddenly blinked.

“Fool! Were you even listening?” the Holy Sword exclaimed, pointing at the boy with his cane.

“What happened?” Kid asked. “What is this place?”

“You should learn from the Brass Lady, she’s such a good listener. Of course, my inspiring words captivate all the ladies…”

“We have to get out!”

“Fool! This is the book of Eibon. I’ve wrote some books too, you know? Not too many, I prefer quality over quantity. My words were straightforward, astounding, both applauded and outrageous! Each of my books was always a success, all of them best-sellers. People would form in long lines only to get their copies signed…”

The memories came back, the book, the Site… Site-19.

“Where was I? Oh yes, Eibon. One of my greatest fans, he always admired me, he even told me he wanted to create many, many more like me. Of course, I told him that was impossible. I’m often imitated, but never replicated.”

The creature then began a story. Kid soon gave up trying to ask any more questions and just got up slowly to walk away, until the white shape disappeared in the white landscape.

The jar labeled “Clown” rested on Jack Bright’s large wooden desk, as well as SCP-158’s set of instructions, all the information he had about the Twin Guns, and a bunch of draws he managed to recover, all made by pencil, most of them depicting symmetrical images. On the floor rested a couple boxes, containing every single file that mentioned Dr. Gorgon and her investigations. The red haired man’s fingers played with his medallion, the ruby glinting on the soft glow of the monitor in front of him.

He was watching again the security recordings of junior researcher Albarn hiding the jar in an old cabinet in Dr. Steins office. Strangely, Jack found no evidence of her using SCP-158 recently. The scientist exhaled, and took another sip of his coffee. It had been a good idea to observe Albarn closer, after all. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of the information he had:

Maka Albarn, who had been somehow involved in all the disappearances of their Demon Weapons. The same Maka Albarn, whose mother, Dr. Kami, worked with Dr. Gorgon and Dr. Stein.

Dr. Gorgon, who was using the anomalous sword “Ragnarok”, trying to develop something that could turn its user’s blood into a weapon, but got her experiments suspended when none of the D-Class would survive the experiments she made with the “black blood”.

Dr. Stein, a man who had a mad interest on the properties of souls.

Dr. Kami, who insisted on the existence of the Demon Weapons, those that were “made of soul”, according to SCP-8842.

SCP-8842, who could easily wield the Weapons, both of the Twin Guns and maybe even the Scythe, if they believed his version of some things. A skip that was assigned to that same Dr. Stein, and to Maka Albarn, a researcher who somehow obtained a clown’s soul…

Jack Bright closed his eyes. Just what was he missing?

He walked for hours, for days, for weeks…

He wondered how time worked in this place. He knew there could be space just outside of space, his magic with the mirrors worked in such way. Just like that, there could be time outside of time. Maybe only a few minutes had passed after Noah trapped him inside the book..

Did the man fear he could escape the Foundation’s containment? Or was it just that he wanted to have all the Great Old Ones inside of the book?

Sometimes, he could hear screams full of rage, all kinds of voices, and pained cries. He wondered just how many unfortunate creatures were trapped within these pages…

He kept on walking. Months had passed since he had seen Excalibur, but no matter how much he walked or for how long, there was nothing. He had reasoned before that if this was a book, he was in the first page and had to walk forward in order to find anything. But where was forward? Where were left and right? Maybe he had been in the last page the whole time, and now he had to go back and undo the way he had followed for months. That must be what he had to do, walk back all the way he had come to get here…

But as he turned around, he found he could not tell from which direction he came.

In the darkest corner of that lousy bar, Giriko closed his fists, as his mind repeated the sequence of events that finally made him abandon the Chaos insurgency. Honestly, all went down to that witch, Medusa Gorgon. The only reason he hadn’t torn the woman to pieces right there was because she was Arachne’s family. Not that it meant much, Giriko always knew he had been more of a sibling to Arachne than Medusa ever had been.

It still angered him, that even after knowing what the GOC had done, Medusa didn’t really care that much about revenge. She was more concerned about her stupid experiments. She assured Giriko that they would lead to the ultimate end for both the GOC and the SCP Foundation. But that was just like too many thing she said…

He wouldn’t believe her lies anymore. The man opened another beer and took a gulp. Maybe Shaula Gorgon would have been interested in avenging her older sister, in finding those who were there that night. Her venomous magic and his chainsaws would make a great combination. Besides, between Shaula and Medusa, he liked the younger sister better.

But no one had seen the scorpion witch in almost a decade.

It wasn’t that he minded acting on his own, no. After all, he never needed someone to wield him, like too many useless Weapons, those who were basically harmless without a wielder…

He could do as much damage on his own as he wanted…

“Can I sit here?” a smug voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Get lost!” Giriko growled.

The man ignored his warning and simply took a seat in front of him. He was brown skinned, was wearing a stupid beret and an equally stupid smile on his face.

“I must say,” the newcomer spoke with a tone of superiority. “Your work with the golems was impressive.”

If it wasn’t because there were other people in this place, his chains would be wrapping around this bastard right now. Now that he thought about it, that never stopped him before…

“Who the fuck are you?”

The man smirked. “My name is Noah. And I know yours is Giriko. You worked with Arachne Gorg-”

With the growl of a chainsaw, Giriko´s hand snatched Noah by his shirt, right under his neck. “Be very careful about your next words,” the Weapon hissed.

The man’s smile disappeared, but he remained calm. “I only wish I had met her. I’ve see her creations, heard the legends. The Foundation got very close to find her, you know? More than once, but… crucial details were mysteriously changed,” Noah said, and smiled again.

Giriko narrowed his eyes. “You work for the Foundation,” he growled.

“I work for myself. The Foundation just happens to be useful.”

Giriko let go of him, but his expression didn’t change. “Why should I believe anything you say?” the Weapon said.

Noah’s expression was eerily calm, and Giriko didn’t like that. “I couldn’t believe what happened… no, what they did to her. Wouldn’t you love, to make them pay?”

“What… what are you talking about?” Giriko spat, still not buying the man’s words.

“Let’s talk outside.”

He didn’t notice when he stopped walking and began running, nor when he stopped running and began falling. He had been falling forever, for much longer than he had walked, for far longer that he had lived. He supposed he was falling into the depths of the monstrous book. How to know how much time had passed?

Far in the distance, he saw a black spot. At first, he thought it was so small but as he approached, falling fast towards it, he realized it was colossal. It was something, it was someone…

The boy saw the bright eyes, heard the thunderous voice.

It spoke about Power.

Jack Bright exhaled in frustration after checking again the reports. He still believed that what they did to Agent White was too rushed. They should have waited, at least until they could obtain more information.

Or maybe the higher ups already had it?

And then Maka Albarn, she had just conveniently gotten a couple days off, and no one had been able to locate her, yet. The last moment anyone saw her, was the evening after the Twin Guns were stolen. The very next day, Medusa Gorgon kidnapped Dr. Stein.

Jack Bright observed the picture on his hand, one he found in a locked drawer, in Dr. Stein’s office. The image depicted Dr. Kami and Dr. Gorgon. Both of them in their lab coats, both smiling. It was easy to imagine Dr. Stein taking the picture.

“Three amigos,” Jack huffed.

The man again narrowed his eyes at the ethereal substance within the jar on his desk. His gaze then drifted to SCP-158’s operation manual, then, to the many scattered prints and reports, and finally to the bunch of draws depicting fractals, pyramids and butterflies…

The world had been spotless and white, but now it was entirely black. And still, completely silent.

It had been so long since he heard a voice, that of the black entity who spoke nonsense. Words sprouting without purpose or meaning, just like Excalibur. Just like Asura.

Hell, did he too, speak nothing but mere nonsense? Stuff that had only made sense for himself and himself alone? No… no, things made sense, real sense, he had friends, they had listened, they understood each other…

Where were they? Who were they?

He couldn’t remember their faces. He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t the emptiness all around him. He had no idea of how much time had passed, years, how many years… how many decades? Had he already spent centuries falling into the empty nothingness?

There was nothing for his senses in this place, if anything, he wanted to hear something, even if it was only the sound of his own screams. But it was as if his lips had been sewn shut.

Existence was chaotic.

Life was disarray. Disorder. Furor. Turmoil. Anarchy.

The empty void of a place of nothingness, devoid of light, of sound, of emotion, of life… it was perfection.

As his consciousness stared into the pitch dark mindscape, he concluded it was his mission to achieve this absolute perfection. Order. Symmetry. Control. Law. Calm.

He could accomplish that.

Turn off every light.

Every life.