Now that I'd finished cataloguing the Gate Guardian's basic parameters (which was a polite way of saying it annihilated everything we sent at it), my mind naturally drifted to the next problem:
How the hell do I get past a one-kilometer-tall flaming angel with a star-temperature sword?
Because I wanted what was behind it.No—needed it.
The Tree of Life.The Tree of Knowledge.
Those weren't just mythical artifacts. They were metaphysical singularities of conceptual power.
The Tree of Life alone could theoretically:
grant true biological immortality,
rewrite genetic decay,
regenerate from nothing,
and permanently stabilize soul-body resonance.
Which would be incredibly useful for my O5 members, many of whom were… annoyingly mortal. And subordinates—why let them die of age after 300 or 400 years when we could keep using them?
But the Tree of Knowledge—that was the real prize.
What exactly did it give?
Infinite knowledge?Universal truths?A conceptual understanding of reality?Or something stranger…?
Even I didn't know.And I had the Reality Stone, the Space Stone, and literal Ōtsutsuki DNA.
The uncertainty made it irresistible.
But first, the annoying detail:getting past SCP-001.
The Gate Guardian, who casually erased people from existence and whose sword probably reached quark-fusion temperatures, stood directly between me and my prize.
Theoretically, I could survive the heat. Being the host of the Phoenix Force made me almost immune to fire-based phenomena. Even cosmic flames barely registered to me anymore.
But the sword wasn't just hot.It was divine.
And divinity doesn't care about energy levels—it cares about concepts. If the sword decided I should cease existing, no amount of chakra, stones, immortality, or genius would help.
Probably.
Maybe.
…Hopefully not.
Still, I wasn't stupid.So I prepared.
I spent days designing the first iteration of my barrier:
heat immunity woven with Phoenix entropy,
vibranium-uru infused matrices,
yin-yang fūinjutsu stabilizers,
Reality Stone density distortion,
soul-anchoring qubit fields from Rick Prime's research,
and a conceptual reinforcement layer based on the Death Stone fragments in my possession.
(Side note: I was very proud of myself.)
Once the barrier was complete, I decided to test it.No way I was stepping in front of SCP-001 without at least a basic field test.
So I found… well… a D-Class.
A random one.He was smoking at the time. He looked confused.
I placed the barrier around him.Made sure it was properly sealed.
"Walk ten meters toward SCP-001," I instructed.
His hands were shaking as he obeyed.
He approached the edges of the Guardian's radiating heat.
And to my delight—
the heat didn't touch him.
Perfectly insulated.Perfectly safe.
Then SCP-001 stepped forward.
Just one, casual, gentle step.
Its foot alone was the size of a city block.
The D-Class screamed.The barrier shimmered.Cracks of white-hot divinity split across it.
For a moment—just one moment—it held.
And I actually thought:
Oh hey, not bad!
Then the barrier gave out with a sharp crystalline sound…
…and the D-Class was crushed into a perfectly smooth layer of human paste beneath an angelic foot.
I sighed.
"Well," I muttered, "at least I know the temperature insulation works."
My shadow clone beside me nodded."It was a good test, Mistress," she said. "A failure with useful data."
"Exactly."I crossed my arms. "Back to the drawing board. We need the barrier to handle divine physical force."
The clone scribbled notes.
I looked back toward the Gate Guardian.
The radiant, holy being stood completely still, sword burning like a fragment of a newborn star, its expression unreadable.
"Don't worry," I whispered under my breath."I'll get past you. One way or another."
And I meant it.
Because I wanted those fruits.And I never stopped until I got what I wanted.