XIX. Epilogue. (Prometheus)

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Masterlist

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The aroma of coffee in the morning was one of their favorite smells. Their nostrils were intoxicated by the bitter fragrance, the harsh feel of caffeine in his mouth. They took a sip from their cup to leave it on the table seconds later, reading the morning paper as usual. Their body was reclined in a comfortable rocking chair, outside the porch of their rustic house; It was a pleasant autumn day, with the floor paved with ocher leaves and trees in their last phase of life.

In the distance a tall, slender figure was seen approaching the house, his black hair pulled back perfectly accentuating the long face with triangular features. He was dressed in a black jacket that covered his entire body, combined with high-heeled boots and dark leather gloves. The man in the rocking chair stood up to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. The black-haired man looked at his partner and gave him a warm smile.

They were an albino man, shorter than him, his hair was combed back revealing his cheekbones and marked jaw. Their violet eyes looked into their partner's blue eyes, drifting to the barely visible scar on his lips and kissing him.

—Dýo... – Their hand took the black-haired man's cheek and caressed his.

—Come inside, it's freezing here.

He obeyed and entered the house to be welcomed by a little boy with raven hair, who was wearing a top hat and a doctor's suit. The infant ran to the tallest to embrace him.

—Father, I missed you so much!– Shouted the smallest, hanging on his leg.

—I missed you too Saturn.

—Louis, take off your coat so you can help me cook dinner.

—Yes, Dýo, let me give the boy something.

Louis knelt at his son's height to take something out of his pocket, it was a small stethoscope that he had brought from the hospital. When his son saw the instrument he began to jump for joy and put it around his neck.

—When I grow up I'll be like you, father!

The doctor laughed and carried the boy to the kitchen with his other dad, he already had everything ready to cook.

—And why don't you want to be like me?– They asked sarcastically.

—I don't want to be an actor, it's very difficult!

—It's not hard kid, you just have to- – They interrupted themselves to act like they were impaled on the forehead, exaggerating the sounds in a funny way and lying on the ground in an exaggerated pose. —Bleh!—

The boy laughed and was left on the floor to play with Dýo while Louis started dinner. The family's laughter faded into the darkness, leaving Dýo on the ground, disappearing in the dust.

Back to reality.

Somewhere in the foundation was a group of doctors and researchers monitoring the psychic behavior of SCP-035. Among those doctors was Louis, a now proclaimed doctor who was in charge of the Prometheus project, which was in charge of monitoring Dýo's psychic activity while he was in his hibernation state. The fragments had been reuniting together over the decades with the help of what was left of their secretion. Those involved in the project were made up of academic experts in artistic anomalies or in relation to certain mythologies, who were responsible for modifying SCP-035's file to adapt to the Prometheus project.

Below are the modifications made by the Prometheus project staff, approved by the 0-5 Council:

SCP-035

Object Class: ̶K̶e̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶A̶p̶o̶l̶l̶y̶o̶n̶ Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-035 is to be contained within a hermetically sealed glass box no less than 10 centimeters thick. This box should be contained within the research room of the project department and neutralized anomalies. Research personnel are not to touch SCP-035 at any time with the exception of Dr. Nicéphore, formerly known as SCP-049. Anyone who comes into contact with SCP-035 is to be immediately terminated to prevent the spread of the disease known as ████.

Psychic activity monitoring must be maintained at all times, taking care that their sleep cycle does not exit the NREM phase or the fragments do not try to move faster than their current speed. Every day, classical music must be played, poetry or literature recited, as well as plays or opera, all of which are not to be older than the 19th century. In the event of a containment breach, the first contact needs to be done by the anomaly so that Dr. Nicéphore can indicate the next step.

Description: SCP-035 appears to be a collection of fragments of a porcelain white comic mask surrounded by a highly corrosive and degenerative viscous liquid that holds it together. Anything that comes in contact with this substance slowly degenerates over a period of time, depending on the material, until it completely melts into a pool of the original contaminant. Living organisms that come into contact with the substance react in the same way, without recovery. The origin of the substance is unknown.

Addendum: SCP-035 has been dormant for approximately 50 (fifty) years since the 20█ incident. There are doubts about their vital state and if they will wake up in another 50 (fifty) years as Dr. Nicéphore affirms

Note: Keeping the creature alive is not recommended, and should be exterminated as soon as possible. We don't know what he will do when he wakes up or how much power he possesses.

Kill him at all costs.

0-5 Council

Despite the ongoing efforts of the 0-5 Council, SCP-035 has not been terminated and no termination attempt by the foundation is scheduled. It has been shown that the anomaly has no interest in waking up and its cognitive patterns show less aggressiveness than its early years. At the start of the project, SCP-035 displayed aggressive and irrational behavior patterns, attempting to wake up every hour or re-collect its missing pieces. Afterwards, their behaviors were erratic but calculated, trying to get Dr. Nicéphore's attention by creating morse codes on the spectrogram where they could range from melodies to small messages.

There were other days where there was no activity, but instead entered the NREM phase of sleep and did not come out of it until days later. The other researchers showed interest in the anomaly, constantly asking Dr. Nicéphore for his history. Unfortunately, most of them died or withdrew when they reached an older age, so the new transfers caused the doctor pain; Request for Dýo's history beyond what was collected before the incident is prohibited.

Recently, Dr. Clef brought SCP-978, The Desire Camera, to SCP-035's containment site. He had no reason to bring it more than just entertainment; He had been taking photos of other members of the foundation and even some SCP's of safe or benevolent class. He entered the “nest” (as some called it due to Louis's avian nature) to find the doctor looking at the mask.

His appearance had undergone minimal changes over the years, mostly the disappearance of his scar and black sclerae thanks to his invention of the cure for his disease. Also the absence of his signature plague mask was a hard change to take.

—No activity yet?– The blond asked, adjusting the camera lens.

—I'm afraid not.– He turned to look at the screen that showed his sleep pattern.

The flash from the camera blinded Louis, causing him to blink at the light. A polaroid photo came out of the anomalous camera, Clef took the photo to reveal it by waving his hand. The photo showed Louis successfully curing a patient of the pestilence, with Dýo at his side clapping and SCP-049-J on the surgical table.

Clef looked at the photo with some sadness and gave it to the french who had a similar reaction, his eyes reflected melancholy and pain, but at the same time hope.

—Can I keep this photo?

—Of course, Louis.

The french took out his medical journal to place the photo on the first page, where he kept small notes and letters that Dýo had given him centuries before. The yellowed pages matched the doctor's barely legible handwriting, along with the smell of dried tears and old book pages.

—My work is meaningless, Alto Clef,– he confessed without taking his eyes off his journal. —I was distracted by Dýo's childish games for so long that I let the pestilence get out of my hands.–

Clef approached his position feeling a strong scent of lavender.

—But you cured Dýo's disease, even the Parliament thanked you. You healed something that was killing you, Louis, that should be enough.

—No, it's not enough.

The plague doctor turned off the screen to go to the door with Clef, turning off the light in the room as they left. Heading to the elevator, Louis continued talking to Clef about their mental dispute.

—I could cure any disease, in fact, I already have, but all my work revolves around pestilence.– He pressed the button for the lowest possible level. —What kind of academic am I if I can't even solve my own thesis?–

For each level they lowered less light was visible, passing through the lightest to the heaviest containment zones.

—But are there victims of the pestilence? You haven't mentioned them in quite some time.

—Of course there are, but as I told you before, I have been distracting myself with vanities.

They reached the last floor, a large door opened in front of them to reveal a large dark room filled with emerald glowing cloning tubes. Each one of them inhabited the body of an adult red-haired human, being monitored by an avian-looking teenager.

—Father, Uncle Clef!

—Greetings, Jr.

The teenager was dressed in a dark medical suit. Its anatomy seemed to be composed of the fusion of a human and a common raven with softer features. Its big yellow eyes together with its small beak gave it an 'adorable' touch.

The room contained green flat screens hanging on the walls that could be unfolded and moved at will because, who else but Bright, had come up with the magnificent idea of ​​uploading his consciousness onto a motherboard before the incident. The screens made up a cluster of technological devices that in unison created a virtual body for Bright's consciousness. The dubious mental health scientist was dancing in front of a screen even bigger than him trying to get the highest score.

—Bright, you have visitors.– Clef yelled, seeing how the consciousness turned to look at him.

—Ah, but they are my old friends, Clef and Louis!

—I'm not your friend.– The french answered.

—It's obvious we're more than friends, I'm like a father to your son.– His shrill voice along with his scolded puppy pout irritated Louis, who grabbed one of the loose cables on the ground that connected the cloning tubes.

—Talk to me like that again and-

—Okay, I got it, no sense of humor today.

The doctor let out a tired sigh and let go of the cable to go to Junior, helping him put together a new amulet for Bright with what he could retrieve from his old necklace. Clef was the one who insisted they revive Jack, after all, if they're going to revive a maniacal psychopath with homicidal tendencies they should take advantage and do it twice. In any ways this new virtual Bright was in his natural state of charisma and questionability, while the pre-incident Bright was more eager to kill than to annoy others.

—Dear Doctor, you have a call from 0-5.– The giant screen projected the logo of the foundation together with the text “0-5 Council requires the presence of SCP-049″ in capital letters.

—Answer.

13 users entered the call, of which only 7 were available; Each and everyone waited in silence for 0-5–1 to start speaking, his filtered and barely recognizable voice calling Louis by his code name.

—SCP-049, thank you for taking the call.

—Is there something you need from me?

—Not really, we just want to see how this…little game of yours is going..

He looked at the screen confused.

—Pardon my ignorance, but which game are you referring to?

—Keeping alive an SCP that was considered Apollyon for a while is not to be taken lightly.

—I agree, 0-5–7, but SCP-035 is in a state of hibernation for many more decades, do not to worry about it for now.

—He's right, he's contained for now, although we don't know what he'll do when he wakes up.

—I'll know what to do, I've been with him for millennia.

The 0-5 Council did not answer, the static coming from the television filled their now little patience.

—SCP-049, for over 50 years you have been reclassified from Euclid to Thaumiel, given permissions and privileges. You were even allowed to become a doctor of the foundation.– The filtered voice had a demanding tone, as if he wanted something in return. —I think it's time for you to realize the weight that you now carry on your shoulders.–

The room was filled with silence, Clef was watching the anomalous camera to avoid the situation and Junior had been sitting motionless in a corner of the basement. The french wrinkled the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tried to understand what the council wanted now.

—We know things about you, about your relationship with SCP-035,– They continue. —And that's why we're going to monitor your little circus more closely. We'll let it continue, but as soon as we detect suspicious activity... Well, I think you won't like being killed by the same spear with which you almost annihilated SCP-035.–

He clenched his fists tightly, bringing both hands to the sides of his hips. He simply accepted his threats and was left alone. The static from the television was no longer heard, nor the echo of electricity. Those present in the basement stopped tensing their bodies to analyze what had happened.

A flash of light alarmed the doctor who saw Clef take a picture of him and the others again. This time the photo projected Louis sleeping next to, what could be made out, Dýo; Bright was in the same position on the roof but with a human body and Junior looked like a smaller boy. Doctor Clef saved the photo and said goodbye to the others to let them continue working.

Between cables and circuits, on the other side of the screen, 0-5-1 was planning a visit to Audapaupadopolis. The man made his way to the Russian arctic, arriving at what is known as SCP-4840, The City Of The First Father. The environment was cold and hostile, making it difficult for him to reach the floating city; He swore that no matter how many times he came to that place, there would always be something new to find. The city had been abandoned for some time, and where dew and morning sun made the stone streets and towers shine, the midday sun revealed its empty and decrepit state.

The man was greeted by the entity listed as SCP-4840-A, an elderly dark-haired man who was the last inhabitant of Audapaupadopolis, of unknown descent, his warm smile giving him a sense of belonging to the strange city.

—Ah... You again.– The older man got up from his seat on the rocks to greet him and invite him inside. —It's been a long time since I saw you. What is the reason for your visit?–

Despite the gentleman's tone, 0-5-1 continued with his indifferent tone in speaking and acting.

—I came to return something that belongs to your kingdom...

The Spear of The Non-Believer came out behind 0-5-1, handing the artifact back to the man, who looked at it in confusion.

—I don't remember taking the Godless Lance out of the realm... I would have noticed its absence...

—Seth, the kingdom of Alagadda had it in their position. The spear was used for what it was created for, it has already served its purpose.

The old man was silent for a while, 0-5-1 waiting impatiently. After a few minutes the man walked towards the city, gesturing for him to follow along.

Upon entering, great walls and structures shaped the last kingdom of men, pillars of mud and sand proudly supported the last legacy of the original creation. The architecture was vaguely Mesopotamian combined with other cultures, and even so, the elegance of the buildings seemed to be eternal.

—There have been changes in the kingdom that you haven't been aware of...

It was something he assumed before he came, he asked anyway. —Would it be possible to know which they are?–

The older man led his counterpart to the west of the giant domain, increasing in complexity the further he went. On his last visit, he remembers identifying SCP's among the walls and statues, prostrating themselves as pre-Hispanic or Greco-Roman-like deities. The carving in the stone projected hundreds of men and women following an iron-crowned king toward the horizon, pointing towards an angelic guardian with a flaming sword in the sky. He continued on his way to find a large statue of a king made of gold sitting on his throne; But that was not what he had been brought to see.

—A few years ago, these masks began to appear under this monolith...– He pointed to the pillar made of blood and flesh behind the throne. —I don't recognize where it comes from but, it wasn't the only change.–

The old man showed 0-5–1 the stone-carved mural on the east side of the hall. It illustrated the scene of a king and his three sons with whom were four more striking figures. A king with a scarlet cape and a flaming crown, a naked woman covered in snakes, a man made of metal and violet feathers, and a sorcerer with purple dyes.

—The metal man... He didn't have feathers before... Nor did the woman have so many snakes.– The mural continued with other smaller entities around it. 0-5–1 was able to recognize some of them as SCP-166, SCP-682, and SCP-2264, also known as Alagadda.

Who was not expected to see in the mural, was the silhouette of Dýo's three-headed beast being dominated by a humanoid with a beak and raven wings.

—That one! That carving is new, the beast and the raven, he wields the spear my father carried. 

The foundation member couldn't believe what he was hearing or seeing. That city was destined to contain secrets beyond what any human should know, to protect the history of what was, is and will be. The portrait on the walls only meant that the lovers had become history in their own way, earning the title of divine legend.

—They are unknown to me...– The old man whispered. —And yet I know they've done something important.–

0-5–1 made a grimace at Seth´s declaration and the man noticed it. 

—There are secrets that shall stay hidden. Specially their consequences.

The scientist had so much questions. What consequences? Why not tell him? Is there something or someone who does not wish to be revealed? If what those anomalies had caused was gruesome enough not to be told, then who shall know their actions, their desires.

—What is supposed to be portrayed on these walls? Gods, myths?– He asked, distracting his mind from the old man´s confession.

—The last kingdom of men... Protects our legacy... And so everything that has contributed to our history. Protect those we worship, whom we believe. 

The image of hundreds of people praying began to invade the mind of 0-5-1.

—Glorious fairy tale warriors do not rest here...

Cain and Able, fighting in his mind.

—Or we praise diplomats.

The Ambassador, murdering Bright.

—We take care of conserving the pure stories, those who shape us. They could be reincarnations...

Kul-Manas in Alagadda's vast library, being brutally murdered by the Black Lord after meeting Louis.

—Kings...

The Hanged King imposing terror on Alagadda, emanating his presence throughout the land.

—Leaders or friends… Even a simple jester has a place here if he has done something.

The Black Lord trying to justify his assassination attempt on the King by using his charisma to no avail.

—But these creatures... They did something that I still haven't understood, which is why they're here, even if I recall the events, I can not comprehend.

0-5–1 ran his hand over the mural, feeling the rough texture of sand and clay. The huge stone had a very beautiful golden color that combined with the rest of the place; He noticed that the drawing contained some chains that kept Dýo and Louis joined by the neck, each collar had the phrase engraved: "HATE SHALL BE LOVED, AND LOVE SHALL BE HATED."

—Each one of us incarnates a sin or a virtue... I am the fault, you are the responsibility... And these curious creatures embody forgiveness and redemption.

A last detail caught 0-5–1, the mural of SCP-049 did not look like him at all, rather, a thousand royal feathers made the figure of a king with a silver pointy crown and sharp golden claws on his index and middle finger. Besides him, disciples of similar descent as him followed to create enormous wings, a navy blue shone with intensity as he pierced through the beast.

And then, 0-5-1 found nothing more to say or express. There was nothing else for him there, the kingdom was not looking for him to understand its answers, only to assimilate them. So he thanked the old man for letting him pass, said goodbye and left the kingdom without looking back. The old man saw him walk away with a lighting never seen before, a warm smile spread on his face to return to his seat from the beginning, reclaiming his position as guardian.

May things know its place, and never be discovered again, for them to reign on chaos, he though, leaving the city for good.

—Can I ask you a rather daring question, Louis?– The scientist looked at him with concern.

—Proceed...

—After everything you went through with Dýo... Do you still love him? Are you still able to tolerate everything he did to you?

The doctor closed his eyes at the question, combing his hair back with his fingers, a heavy sigh escaping his mouth. He looked at Clef with some disappointment, thinking that he wouldn't have to talk about the incident for a long time.

—I do not love Dýo, no more,– He said. —I loved Dýo, I loved what we were before, I loved what he made me feel but... He's not the same anymore.

Clef looked at him pityingly.

—He hurt you, Louis, He tried to kill you.

—Yes, as I have done before.

—He destroyed a divine place to prove something so foolish to you.

—I know Clef, I know.

—Then why...?

—Because I'm dependent, you said it yourself when you found me in the middle of nowhere about to die.

—He abandoned you Louis.

—No, no... It's not like that, he was going to come back for me when I turned-

—Are you listening to yourself when you speak Louis? You're describing the worst possible partner and yet you're still clinging to him!– He took his hands to reason with him. —You are clinging to a version of him that no longer exists, it does not belong to you and neither do you to him.–

Louis felt nothing, and yet he felt a sob come out of him.

—I loved him more than anything and he loved me. He looked at me with eyes full of admiration, he told me the most romantic poems.

The sound of his throat closing broke Clef's heart, who was now embracing the french. An angry scent alarmed Clef, glancing at the doctor.

—But I hate the memory, I hate the need and the dread. I hate having done so many things, so many longings, only to receive an immature and fragile love.– He separated from the scientist. —I could have tolerated him for centuries but when the time comes when he wakes up, I will claim my place in his heart as his murderer.–

That startled the three-eyed, taking the hidden gun under his belt as a precaution. Louis may be human to a certain degree, may have become his friend and have cried for hours on his shoulder; in the end it was an evil entity.

—Monitoring Dýo manually is relaxing for me, it's as if I were talking to him.— He radically changed the subject, his state full of romance and hope returned. Although it was unexpected, Clef appreciated the change, his blue eyes darkened for a few seconds, revealing a deeper color than usual.

The monitor showed Dýo dreams, or fragments of them at least. The vast majority were dreams about the two of them and rarely about Dýo being powerful once more. He couldn't see them complete due to technological limitations but what they got was enough for him. It was fascinating for the entire foundation that Dýo had accepted this "reality" of his within his dreams. He kept admiring the amalgam who was now his soul mate, communicating in his own way.

—Hello Dýo... how have you been?

Within Polonoí's dreams, he listened to his voice as if it were his reality. He replied with a binary code which translated read "I feel at peace."

—I'm glad to hear that... I've been thinking about you today, I really miss you.

Another note that read "Miss me? I'm here, my love."

—I know... It's just my nonsense...

The machine was slow to process the psychic activity of the anomaly, overheating the equipment to the point of causing a short circuit. Both doctors were scared by what happened and quickly tried to fix the problem, but they didn't notice when the machine fixed itself, now creating processes independent of the artifact.

Dýo had freed from the NREM sleep into a conscious, awake state. This alarmed the doctors, Louis running to the glass case that protected the mask to make sure it was okay and it was, he was smiling as always. What completely surprised them was Dýo's distorted voice emitted from the speakers, saying one last sentence before returning to his hibernation state.

—You are as beautiful as the day I lost you.

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