Arriving at the Tigris–Euphrates site felt… wrong.
Not dangerous, not threatening—just wrong. Like the air itself didn't want mortals walking through it. My Imperial shuttle descended toward the temporary base we'd set up, its stabilizers whining as reality rippled beneath us. Even the Reality Stone at my chest pulsed uneasily.
Below me, rows of white tents, armored vehicles, scanning towers, and containment teams spread across the desert. Hundreds of personnel, research specialists, and a few hundred disposable D-Class wandered nervously. They could feel it too.
But nothing compared to what was waiting in the distance.
The moment my boots sank into the sand, I saw it.
I felt it.
SCP-001.The Gate Guardian.
A colossal, angelic figure of searing light far beyond human scale, its wings stretched wide, each feather burning with divine fire. Its flaming sword—larger than mountains—rested against the earth like a warning carved into reality itself.
I couldn't help but stare.
"This thing…" I breathed, "makes celestials look like toddlers playing pretend."
My escort froze. A few D-Class dropped to their knees. Even my elite clones went perfectly silent.
I snapped my fingers to break their trance.
"Alright, listen up. I'm taking full command of this project."
A chorus of "Yes, ma'am!" echoed through the desert.
Using technology we'd gotten from Wakanda decades ago—vastly upgraded by me and my clones—we deployed a multi-layered invisibility shield around the entire area, stretching several kilometers.
Vibranium projectors hummed, golden light flickering upward.
Then—shhhhhhk—the entire region vanished from the outside world.
To anyone looking from satellites, drones, or casual wandering eyes, this place simply… didn't exist.
"Good," I said. "Last thing I need is a tourist accidentally walking into the literal biblical apocalypse."
We reinforced the perimeter with:
Anti-divinity shielding
Multi-layer spatial anchors
Fūinjutsu stability seals
Reality reinforcement fields
Temporal dampeners
And a barrier specifically tuned to the Gate Guardian's aura
Because even standing kilometers away, I could feel its presence pressing against the world—as if its very existence was too much for reality to handle without help.
I stepped forward, my cloak fluttering as the heatless divine wind swept across the desert. Even the sand bowed away from the Guardian's overwhelming presence.
My clones followed, setting up instruments and calibrating scanners.
As I approached the observation ridge, the Guardian turned.
Not fully—just its head.
But the simple motion sent a shockwave of holy power rippling across the land. My personnel stumbled, some fainting, some dropping their gear in terror.
Even the air trembled.
And then… its eyes locked onto me.
Twin blazing suns of judgment and divine fire.
I felt the pressure on my soul immediately.Ancient. Eternal. Absolute.
But I didn't flinch.
I couldn't flinch.
"Hello, Gate Guardian," I whispered.
The angelic titan didn't speak.
It simply watched me.
And the desert fell silent—As if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting to see whether the universe would continue existing based on this moment.