When War Breaks

"So, what's our current state of affairs?"

I asked as I sat on a chair with my legs crossed. I wasn't inside Bright's office but instead a special meeting room for the O5s. Most of the O5s were connecting via telepathic communicators since radiowaves and the internet are still choke full of those corrupted warning messages.

Apparently, I'm important enough— or more accurately, the SCP Foundation is desperate enough— to involve me in a meeting of the highest levels. And my security clearance level has also been increased to Level 4 as well.

O5-2 replied, giving me the full run down "We've lost 60% of all Sites. Two more were placed under siege in the last 12 hours. An estimated 1,400 SCPs are lost to the sun give or take 5% error. 99.99% of humanity is dead or otherwise converted by the sun. The Church of the Broken God has fully descended into a full-blown civil war. The Global Occult Coalition is in much worse shape than us since all senior leadership has been turned into instances of SCP-9401A."

Damn, that is one serious decapitation strike.

"We are trying to make contact with any remaining GOC members to try and have them join us. The Serpent's Hand has abandoned this reality and secluded themselves inside their library, refusing all outside contacts. Remnants of Marshall, Carter, and Dark Ltd have agreed to cooperate with us. Dr. Wondertainment did not answer her phone. The Chaos Insurgency is disbanded. Any remaining Groups of Interest have all either been entirely destroyed or are too small to make a difference. The SCP Foundation is all that's left as the bulwark for humanity."

If I remember, wasn't Unlondon a thing? There were tales under the When Day Breaks hub about Unlondon surviving in the middle of this sun apocalypse.

"What about Unlondon or Three Portlands?" I asked.

"Unlondon fell in the first 24 hours of Ion's victory," O5-13 said. "Similar to the Serpent's Hand, Three Portland has opted to abandon this reality. Their Mayor has severed all Ways connected to this universe, thinking it a lesser risk to take their chances in the infinite multiverse than to deal with the sun."

This… is really all that humanity has left.

No wonder there's a veil of despair clouding over everyone's head. These people are the same ones who know just how bad everything is.

"We are also evacuating all SCPs, assets, and personnel from smaller facilities and concentrating them into larger, more defensible ones, like SCP-2000. The kinetohazards conjured up by Ion have made them a liability."

All the 13 O5s present had grim looks on their faces. These people hold ultimate authority over the Foundation—these people who can make a person piss their pants by simply walking into a room.

I then asked, "We have fully deciphered the riddle given to us by Uriel, correct?"

This time, it was O5-11 who replied. His voice, and all the O5's voices the same as they passed through a changer. None of their faces were visible.

"Yes. We have confirmation that Uriel is referring to SCP-2399."

"But that machine is still damaged."

Though I couldn't see it, I got the sense that O5-1 was nodding, "Yes. According to the timeline of Protocol LEGIONNAIRE, there are still about two years before SCP-2399 becomes fully functional again."

"Is there any way we can speed this up?"

There was silence in the room before Bright snapped his fingers and caught everyone's attention.

"There… is a way, but it mainly depends on you, Goddess Kukulkan."

I raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"You can help SCP-2399 repair itself."

I tilted my head to signify confusion. How the hell could I help SCP-2399 repair itself? I mean granted I can have knowledge on anything thanks to Quetzalcoatl's Authority over knowledge but the moment that Authority is gone, any information, conjectures, or hypotheses I made relating to the topic using knowledge granted by the Authority is just gone.

I can't retain anything. Even if I write it down, I can't understand what's been written since I don't have the prerequisite knowledge. It'll just be like someone with a degree in graphic design browsing through a Wikipedia article on Quantum Physics.

"How would Agent Kukulkan do that?" O5-6 asked.

"By collecting the debris of SCP-2399 scattered across Jupiter and her orbit and giving it to those drones."

"And how many pieces are left?"

"We estimate based on collected data of the disturbance in Jupiter's magnetosphere, about 12,000 pieces larger than a baseball."

I'm not even going to ask how the SCP Foundation knows about that, probably through either divination or some SCP.

Still, 12,000? That's… a lot. Even if assuming I managed to collect one every second that meant it'll still require like four hours of non-stop collecting.

O5-9 turned to face me, "The material that SCP-2399 is made of has anti-magnetic properties and is dense. Denser than anything we have here on Earth. Thus, practically all of them are in the deepest part of Jupiter's atmosphere, on the surface of the gas giant's Earth-size rock and ice core."

Hold on, "Ice? At the core?"

"Yep. Despite an internal temperature of 20,000 kelvin, the pressure is extreme enough that water continues into its solid state. Ice-VII's down there."

I scratched my chin. Damn, that's way more extreme than any environment I've ever found myself in.

"So pretty much all those 12,000 pieces are scattered around the surface of Jupiter's core?

"Some may be buried inside the core," Bright admitted. "Others may also be carried by Jupiter's wind currents and are whizzing across the Jovian planet at speeds of 900 miles an hour."

"How can you guys track these things? How am I supposed to track them?"

It'll be useless if I don't know what I'm searching for.

A hologram of a blackish metallic rock that reflected no light appeared. It was like a void in existence, something even blacker than Vantablack, with only black holes being slightly darker.

"Whatever material SCP-2399 is made of, it's ridiculously anti-magnetic. We were able to determine the 12,000 pieces of SCP-2399 still scattered about in Jupiter solely by their interference with Jupiter's magnetic field, the constant fluctuations we're forced to tell the mundane world as a 'scientific mystery'." O5-6 explained.

Anti-magnetic… what the hell is that?

"What do you mean by 'anti-magnetic'?"

"It emits a passive null field around it, nullifying any magnetic fields just like how normal magnets attract things. We search for weak points in Jupiter's magnetic fields, places where these things are. Just one piece the size of a baseball creates enough of a dip inside the localized magnetic field that we using cutting-edge instruments were able to measure. Our researchers think it's some kind of Bose-Einstein Condensate."

… The Great Red Spot alone can contain three Earths across and this thing, this tiny chunk no larger than a baseball is powerful enough to reduce Jupiter's magnetic field?

Jupiter's!

Holy shit.

My eyes widened. No wonder the original article called SCP-2399 'indestructible'. Being anti-magnetic, they should be able to repel my plasma attacks with ease then. Any energy-based attack will be less effective in the face of this material.

"I…"

As the Heart of ORT, a creature of the Oort Cloud and a star, I should have no problem detecting changes in the local magnetic field. I think I can generate a personal magnetic field and manipulate ferrous materials. Going to test that in the future.

"On a side note," O5-6 continued, "It has recently come to my attention that the astronomy division of Site-69 has detected weird movements along the planets of the solar system, alongside worrying gravitic anomalies."

An animation of the solar system replaced the black material. It showed those planets on the outer solar system speeding up and those on the inner system slowing down.

"The rate of speeding up and slowing down is exponential. Our mathematicians are thinking it'll result in an alignment of the eight planets including Pluto."

Instantly, I was a bit worried. The movie 2012 has made me wary of any alignments of the planets something to fear as all kinds of natural disasters can pop up.

Although now… I don't think can get much worse.

Well, it can definitely get worse if say a supervolcano erupts but there are so few humans left that killing them wouldn't amount to much.

"So Ion's turning our solar system into an artwork now." O5-1 concluded.

"Yes, it appears so. He's focusing on turning the solar system into a work of art."

My face cringed. Ion is so assured of his victory that he's showing off. Narcissist.

"But how will you all fend off attacks from the sun-corrupted flesh blobs without me?"

None of the O5s spoke, so I continued, "I'm probably going to be inside the depth of Jupiter for a while, how are SCP Foundation going to survive without my help?"

They must've already thought of something but are just refusing to tell me. Security clearance and all.

It was O5-1 who broke the silence, "Goddess Kukulkan. As of yesterday 9 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, we of the O5 Council have officially enacted Procedure 220-Titanomachy. Under Procedure 220-Titanomachy, we are hereby weaponizing all SCPs, anomalous technologies, Type Green, and Blues in the defense of humanity. Everything we've ever contained is now being sent to the walls to protect our major facilities."

"…" I had to blink several times before what O5-1 said fully registered inside my mind. The SCP Foundation, the organization responsible for containing SCPs, is now using them. Turning all of them Thaumiel or something.

This, I thought as I gazed at all the O5s present, must be what desperation looks like.

"We will be fine. Ion is playing with us. He thinks he's won. So please, go repair SCP-2399 and bring us victory."

"... That's not like you guys to rely on someone with anomalous abilities." I denoted. It really isn't. They've given me a really long leash.

O5-9, Bright, then jovially remarked, "Well I'm also on the O5 Council because half of them turned into blobs of meat so there's a first time for everything."

________

The intercom room of Site-19 wasn't much. It mainly comprises two 'mini' rooms sectioned off from each other with a large window and a door off to one end. One mini-room was the recording studio and was padded with materials that aid in sound dampening while the other room was where the sound technician with his soundboard sat.

Bright sat inside the padded room, on a bar stool while I stood in the technician's room. I held a piece of paper containing what I should say.

The main points of this paper are to 'reassure the Foundation personnel' and 'raise morale'.

They're trying to turn me into a mascot.

Bright cleared his throat before speaking into the microphone, "Greetings all Foundation staff members. For those of you Level 2 and below, I am Doctor Jack Bright, of the O5 Council, the highest governing body of the SCP Foundation. I am here to speak with you all in regard to what the SCP Foundation intends to do to repair humanity, to set out an action plan."

Bright flipped the pages of his script, "Effectively immediately, we are to assess the viability of using any and every SCPs within Site-19 for weaponization purposes. Some of you may have heard— ah fuck it."

Bright threw the paper containing the script away.

"I'm going to be honest with you all. We are in a tough spot. Humanity is in a tough spot. We estimate that there are no more than 100,000 humans left across the globe who are unchanged by the corrupted sun. We are witnessing the final days of humanity— if not for the effort of one person, a single extremely powerful reality bender who could've easily escaped Earth and chosen another planet to settle down, but instead didn't and chose to stay here and rescue what few humans are there. Please welcome, Kukulkan."

What?

My mouth dropped at what just happened. The original plan was for Bright to introduce me, where then I would read out some encouraging lines and walk away from the microphone as O5-9 took over.

Now that's thrown right out the window. Bright is staring at me, telling me with his eyes to come.

Abruptly, I stepped into the room with a furious expression on my face. Bright just put me on the spot!

"What are you doing?!" I whispered to the man.

"Just so you know, everyone can hear every noise you're making."

I felt my cheeks heat up. Quickly, I activated We Are The Winged Serpent and picked out Quetzalcoatl's Authority over knowledge of speeches.

Let's hope this speech ends in less than three minutes.

"Ahem," Clearing my throat, I began to speak into the mic that hung off the ceiling, "Thank you O5-9 for that wonderfully abrupt introduction. For those of you who are unaware, my name is Kukulkan. I encountered the Foundation when Mobile Task Force Tau-5 passed through New York, where I kept a group of survivors whom I rescued. There, I proved to the Foundation how useful I was when I terminated a half-infected SCP-343 and melted the surface of the Moon. In case you were wondering, yes, that bright light from a few days ago that turned the night into day was because of me."

I sat down on a chair and started speaking in a tone of frankness.

____________

Sgt. James Goodwell was indulging himself in as much food as the cafeteria machine would give him when the announcement started. Oh sure he stopped to listen, but he didn't really care.

Humanity is dead. There's no hope, especially not when James was one of those on the surface when those blob creatures breached the containment cell walls using those kinetohazards.

So James gorged himself on as much food as he could. Might as well do the thing that brings him the most amount of joy.

He continued to eat, and the speaker continued to blare out this announcement.

(AN: Play Trailer Rebel - The Day We Choose To Die for the atmosphere)

"But enough about me. Let's talk about you. More specifically, let's talk about human history. The first evidence of human civilization came from a healed fractured femur bone from 15,000 years ago." The announcer paused for two seconds, "'Why?' One may ask. Why use that, a healed broken bone, to signify the dawn of human civilization? Why not tools? Why not the spears we use to hunt woolly mammoths? Why not cave paintings? Why not religious artifacts? Why not writings or primitive forms of governance among the tribes?"

"Yeah… who… knows…?" James said between bites of a sausage, "Don't care."

"15,000 years ago, a broken femur bone was fatal because, with an inoperable leg, you cannot hunt. You cannot forage for food or seek shelter, nor can you run away from predators. However, this bone was healed. This means that after injury, the owner of that femur bone was cared for. They were fed. They were protected from any potential predators. This kind of support, solidarity, and cooperation prolonged human civilization into what it is today."

James slowed down in eating his sausage before slowly, half-mindedly, placing the fork back onto his plate. He stared down at the amount of food in front of him, enough to make a pile.

___________

SCP-890 waited patiently as the blast door opened. He was flanked by two security guards wielding assault rifles while the SCP himself was chained from head to toe like he was a dangerous criminal.

Eh, he's used to it. Though the voice of the announcer lady was really nice.

"Why am I telling you this story? Because for the last 75,000 years ever since the last Toba eruption that culled the human population down to a mere 10,000 individuals, humanity has never been closer to extinction than it is today. Because after 15,000 years, a new broken femur has been placed right in front of us. Because the medicine used to heal that broken femur is the SCPs that the Foundation contained. Just like the Toba eruption 75,000 years ago, look around you. Look at your fellow man and woman. We are all that's left of humanity. We are its last bulwark. We cannot do it alone. Humanity cannot stand alone, humanity needs the aid of SCPs, the anomalous, from technology to magic to reality-bending: the Foundation must empty its cell to ensure humanity survives."

Once the blast door fully opened, SCP-890 saw the most beautiful thing in his life. Right there, in the middle of this room, was a large clockwork machine with a dial of 'rough', 'coarse', '1:1', 'fine', and 'very fine', and intake and outtake on two ends.

"Oh my, oh my."

_____________

"In the face of extinction, we all, be we normal or abnormal, all must work as one, all individuals become cogs inside a machine. We must heal this broken femur. We must climb out of this abyss. The O5 Council has devised a plan to return the sun to how it once was, and all we need— all I need— is time. As much time as you all can grant. As much time as the last remnant of humanity can grant. From precious seconds to invaluable hours, any amount of time matters no matter how small, is important. We need your help. Every last one of you. If not for humanity then do it for yourself, so that you can freely walk into the sun once more without worry."

With that, I walked away from the microphone.

Let's hope that was good enough.

Hope...

I can only hope now.

The star... grant me hope once more, please.

______________

AN: and with that, the endgame is here.