Original author: Ryl and Lot
Description: When attempts to escape from the containment zone become routine for Abel, a glitch intervenes in the sequence of practiced actions, behind which stands an unexpected ally.
Notes: On the Internet, I came across information that Iris is SCP 3002 "Attempts to Assassinate Thought". Inside the object file itself, this is indicated by a three-digit number and a mention that the object was fond of photography. And naturally, I was upset: she definitely did not deserve such an ending. So the story takes place in the Foundation universe, where the Summer project was implemented, and the organization faced its consequences.
Thought
He had to give the humans credit: they were resourceful. Getting out of the tomb he woke up in was never an easy task, but lately it had also required some skill. The trick was to slip out of the cube before the water that poured in froze. Now he had some skill at it.
The trials did not end outside the sarcophagus: the constant current running through the water was causing the muscles to freeze, turning to stone. The man would have died, sunk to the bottom, and never been able to surface. But he was thrown forward by either stubbornness or willpower. He forced his muscles to work hard, moving upward. Time after time.
But not today.
Today the tension in the water had eased, allowing free movement to the surface. A glitch? Well, his captors were very unlucky, then.
Abel climbed out into the corridor: the next test began here. Well, at least the eternal "deadly corridor" did not fail: everything worked like clockwork, except for the ill-fated electricity. His movements were no longer constrained, allowing him to move smoothly: a wonderful feeling, giving pleasure to the process itself. Abel quickly, almost fleetingly, covered the distance to the first shooter. The victim's cervical vertebrae were crushed under his fingers.
It seems he got a little carried away. Too bad he realized this after he had dealt with all the guards. It wasn't that Abel was seriously planning to leave the containment area, but since he couldn't find a more interesting opponent, he should have looked elsewhere.
He found two more at the guard post. Panic was reflected on people's faces.
“What have you done?” The deathly pale face of one agent reflected doomed anger, the second, holding the answer in front of him, looked confused.
— I was sure that the voltage had snapped, apparently I had touched it by accident, and I fixed it…
"You turned it off!" the first one howled. Abel grinned.
- Damn! I'm really so sorry, and Lily too…
- What does this have to do with it? - Abel understood what it had to do with it when something slipped into his mind. It was not prepared for his consciousness, and it seemed that it did not strive to capture him, it only darted about in fear, yielding to instinct.
Abel had already been noticed by two survivors, whom he dealt with in a matter of seconds. The creature inside froze, and then he suddenly imagined the base plan with crystal clarity, with burning dots of living people. The targets were moving chaotically, as if trying to find a way out.
"They're supposed to flood the complex and evacuate," the warrior said sarcastically. The document "Containment Conditions" appeared before his eyes, as if he had already read it, but the phrase he was looking for was missing. Abel twisted his lips into a grin. What a curious creature he had come across. He closed his eyes: "Okay, let's talk."
The creature hesitated, as if it had fallen to the ground: there was something truly bestial in its behavior, wild, devoid of human consciousness. Abel waited for it to try to pettyly run away, but the creature gave in.
He hadn't even seen the sky for ten years. It was cloudy: the sun painted the edges of the clouds that obscured it yellow-green. The damp and warm air seemed to hang between the sky and the earth. A lazy day.
It was just a memory, but a remarkably clear one, perceptible to the smallest detail. An artificially created memory. He did not notice the creature right away, more engrossed in studying the place. It smelled of the forest: pine needles, rhododendron and salt. The sea was somewhere nearby.
The creature touched his arm, drawing his attention. The child was fair-skinned, with light, faded hair, wearing a white dress. What a funny hypostasis. Abel cocked his head to the side, studying it.
"Who am I?" The girl raised her clear blue eyes to him and looked amazingly serious. The question seemed stupid, considering that he knew perfectly well that her name was Lily. Only Abel didn't know anyone with that name.
"Why this face?" His voice seemed to drop. Rage was swirling in his chest. He would kill her. This creature would not run away so easily. It would find her and gut her.
The creature retreated in fear, blinking in confusion, and then suddenly froze with astonishing determination.
"Who am I?" something insistently asked. Abel narrowed his eyes, materializing a weapon in his hands, pointing it at the creature. After all, it was his consciousness. The creature darted to the side, avoiding the lunge. It changed in the seconds it took to move away, as if it were billowing with smoke.
It didn't get any easier.
No longer a child: tall, grown up, pale as death, thin as a starving fox, the woman stood up surprisingly correctly: in a fighting stance.
Abel grinned, and she could have returned the memory of those around her, pulled the fighters here, and flooded the complex to hell, but she preferred a fair fight.
The man smiled, causing the sword to disappear.
- Okay, let's do it this way. What weapon do you prefer? - the creature watched him warily, slightly tilting its head to the side.
"Who am I?" it repeated quietly, cautiously. It became crystal clear: the creature could not speak. It remembered a couple of simple phrases that it could only repeat, if not just one.
“Okay,” Abel suggested peacefully, almost calming down, “have it your way.”
They grappled. He rushed forward, it defended itself, trying to neutralize him. It fought well, skillfully, deftly avoiding attacks, counterattacking in time. Abel knew this, because the creature perfectly mastered one of his favorite fighting techniques, designed to get rid of a threat to life as quickly as possible. What mortals need. He taught it to his people. Before. The rage arose again.
- What did you do to her? - They found themselves on the ground. He hadn't even strangled her yet, he was holding her so she wouldn't get out. The creature stubbornly tried to wriggle out of his grip, sliding her fingers along his arm: if he were a human, it would have worked, but she didn't have the strength.
"Who am I?" the creature frowned wearily, repeating the damn question like a barrel organ, and suddenly raised its eyebrows wearily. "Who am I?"
“Your mother, Iris,” he didn’t want to believe it until the very end, and now he hoped that the creature was just playing with his mind, “what did they do to you?”
The creature shuddered at the nickname he had invented, froze in confusion, blinked its blue eyes, and then covered its face with its hands. Abel removed his hands, and the creature almost immediately rolled over onto its side, curling up in a fetal position.
"Is the project over already?" the woman asked hopelessly.
"What project?" The creature seemed to notice him only now, she sat up slowly, staring at him with an inflamed gaze, and then extended pale fingers to his face.
"Who am I?" the question sounded not insistent, not serious anymore, a little lost. Abel sighed heavily, to which the creature frowned, touched his shoulder, carefully running its hand over the skin. It seemed comically focused when it slid along the collarbone, to the chest. The fingers froze somewhere in the middle of the sternum.
“Your hands are icy,” the man just grimaced.
“Who am I?” the creature repeated insistently, frowning.
- Are you trying to ask who I am? - There was no answer. The man decided that this was still a sign of agreement. - Abel.
- Ah… - it hesitated, looking at him sadly, and then suddenly hugged him tightly, burying its nose in the crook of his neck, shivering slightly. It was cold and damp, in contrast to his burning forehead.
- You're shivering, - the warrior whistled and sighed heavily, - okay, let's get out of here. Come on, show me what this project is.
He still hoped in vain that the creature had absorbed some of his memories and created this fucking image.
When you have a being capable of manipulating almost any information on your side, escaping from the Foundation's control is somewhat easier. Just an interesting fact. But what he certainly wasn't prepared for was that traveling halfway around the world would be a simple matter. No, sitting in a chair for ten hours, among a crowd of weak people, without killing anyone, required a certain amount of self-denial.
The creature inside turned out to be amazingly tame, almost domestic. As soon as he stopped thinking about destroying it, it tried to help him with all its might, with almost dog-like devotion. It could really only speak two phrases, but it shared information and knowledge with readiness. Clearly and specifically, as required of a good scout.
So far, the data did not please him. The Foundation, obviously fearing the case that its secret activities could be exposed, decided to find a way to counter this - "Project Summer". In general, the creature knew almost everything, in the smallest details, remembering frame by frame and video recordings of experiments, but Abel wanted to make sure personally.
He still didn't expect to meet a man in a mobile task force uniform at the entrance to the park, right where he had broken in. The man stood with his hands up, as if surrendering.
"Damn, I hate to do this myself, but the situation is dire," the man tried to justify himself, and then took the bag off his shoulder, throwing it at his feet. Abel noticed the Alpha-1 mark on his chest with a grin. He has questions. As if in response to his words, the man spoke again: "You are, of course, dangerous, but we still hope that you can calm her down. After all, as a hunter, aren't you offended that you managed to get away alone?"
Abel leaned over, looking into the bag. Weapons. Now that was interesting. The creature inside was puzzled. He could feel its stupor while he was arming himself. The agent waved his hand, offering to take him to the right Zone.
"We cleaned everything up here," he said calmly, walking a little ahead, "when it was just starting to creep in. An agent from the archival security came under its influence, started digging, even found something. So we had to quickly clean everything up: documents, hard drives, everything, so that this infection wouldn't creep into every corner."
“Or so that the ethics department doesn’t hang you,” Abel muttered under his breath, listening to the agent’s explanation.
- Oh! These can, - the man happily agreed and fell silent for a while when they entered the guarded area. The employee of the elite mobile group was let through without questions, not much concern for the strange subject following him.
They descended into the complex, walking down the steps. It was clear that no one was walking around here any more, trying to find the truth. The matter had been hushed up. Abel sighed, running his fingertips over the black traces of fire left where the documents had been. No information, but he had already learned everything he wanted from the creature himself. He wanted to see it with his own eyes.
“Iris,” he winced as another name persistently popped into his head.
"Lily Veselka," the entity seemed to remind him of him. The man chuckled, it was something like a defensive reaction. She didn't just not remember, she unconsciously blocked everything that could remind her of the past.
“Who am I?” in the created memory, she pulled his hand with displeasure, as if protesting against such assumptions.
“Iris,” he answered calmly, deciding that if he was going to press, he would do it here and suggested: “Find information about SCP-105.”
There was silence for a moment, and then the creature inside let out a mental scream of horror and pain. The phantom sound echoed in his head like pain, gripping it like a vice. Abel winced, the agent next to him covered his ears.
The silence was truly deafening. The world seemed to freeze. Abel frowned, watching how the complex had changed. The documents seemed to have emerged from the ashes, the computers began to make an unpleasant noise. The scientists rushed between the tables, not noticing either him or the operative, who was looking around in fear.
"What the hell?" the man turned white. Abel chuckled, moving between the tables, looking around the complex.
Under constant surveillance. She is like a caged animal to them. Abel froze by the glass wall, next to which the woman was curled up in a ball. Her wrists were tightly bandaged.
“Hey,” the woman in the uniform with the letter “lambda” on her clothes smiled amiably, “Iris, come on, it’s time for the procedures, I’ll bring you a fruit salad after.”
There was no reaction. She was staring at one point and not moving. She was breathing very shallowly and did not react. The man sighed, following her gaze: at the camera. The only thing that had always cheered her up. Before. I wonder if she hated this hobby after so many years? How long had this thing brought her only troubles, forcing her to watch suffering?
The agent came at her, grabbing her arm, and Iris thrashed, struggling, trying to stay in place. Not to go. And she was ready to fight, only it was hard. She was only human. He could see that she couldn't even take a stance, her left leg was unable to support her weight, her fingers and hands were shaking, and yet she fought like a desperate beast. She fell to the floor when the agent pushed her away, defending herself.
"Iris," Abel called out to her, hoping that it would help pull the entity out of the captivity of its own memories. He had already seen reports of neurosurgery in which the subject remained conscious. There was no reaction. "Rice!"
She shuddered at the commanding voice, leaned on her elbows and looked at him, with an angry, furious look, conscious. She threw the woman from her memories away, as if waving her off, and she disappeared. Slowly, not yet fully recovered, she stood up, leaning on the glass. The barrier disappeared as soon as the entity realized that it could stand freely. Her bloodless lips were covered with cracks, reminiscent of the frozen scales of a white snake. He had once seen one like that, born by accident. Small, thin as a lace, she stood out among the black vipers, riveting his gaze, still quite childish at that moment.
- Why? - The question was unexpected. Abel looked at the girl, with burning hatred in his gaze.
They found themselves in the Foundation's interrogation room: white walls, chairs, and a table that she slammed her palms on with force.
"Why didn't you kill me along with everyone else?" she flared up. Abel suddenly realized that she was trying to suppress him, increasing the effect on his mind, really trying to instill a memory. A small, fifteen-year-old girl, as he had last seen her alive. "For what? In the end, why did you do this to us?"
These questions tormented her for years. They tormented her, tore her apart, sometimes gained strength, sometimes ignited a mad rage, sometimes threw her into the abyss of despair, and then she believed that she was to blame.
Abel had been through this, and now he didn't know how to justify himself. What could he tell her? How could he explain the current situation? How could he say it so that she would believe him?
"What did Andrews and Beatrix Maddox do to deserve all this? They just wanted to live in peace," Abel froze, because he could definitely tell her that.
"I didn't kill Andrews," Iris froze, stared at him with frightened eyes, and then howled, clutching her head. She fell to her knees. She began to cry. Abel stood up and came closer to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"He's alive," she said suddenly. Abel froze. "He and Beatrix are alive. I planted the idea in the Foundation that Clef had eliminated them, hell, I didn't even realize I'd done it. They're still living in Italy. I hid them even from myself."
Abel was speechless, and Iris looked up at him with stunned eyes.
"Of course you didn't kill him. Hell, you didn't kill any of them." One memory pulled the others along with it, tearing down the dam of her ignorance with a powerful stream. "You saved us all! Why didn't you say anything? Abel!"
She sounded almost menacing, almost. Abel smiled wryly.
- Who would believe such a thing? - He suddenly didn't find it funny, not funny at all. Because there were things in his life that he believed in, but he couldn't remember the details.
Iris wiped her cheeks.
“Indeed,” the girl nodded seriously.
- You know what? Let me take you away from here, - Abel sighed heavily, holding his former subordinate by the shoulders. She chuckled, looking up at him.
The dilapidated complex came into view again. He almost tensed at the sound of MTF agents in the hallway, but then noticed the documents on the tables.
"The project is being closed," the chief scientist entered the room with a small detachment. "Drop everything, let's go."
— How do they close it?
“That’s it,” the man snapped, dissatisfied with what was happening and the stupid questions.
"What should we do with her?" one of the lab assistants suddenly asked. An awkward second hung in the air, which the leader needed to make a decision.
“Into the oven,” the order fell like an iron sentence, “it’s still a miracle that she’s alive.”
Abel darted like a shadow after the operative who went to carry out the order; this time he did not wander through the depths of artificial memory, but forced himself to follow.
She really did look more like an emaciated corpse. Her arms were streaked with inky bruises and pale roots of scars along the veins. Rails of sutures cut through her neck and head. Her eyes seemed completely empty, but they blinked, lingered on the face of the operative who had picked up the emaciated body in his arms and stared into the void. She may no longer have realized what was happening, but that didn't stop her from feeling, on the contrary, instincts and emotions, perhaps the only thing she had left.
She wasn't paralyzed, not at all, according to the report. And she was in pain. A lot. Her last desperate scream was swallowed up by the fire.
Abel froze. They spared the bullets. Bitches!
The memory faded, and he found himself standing in front of the stove. He took a deep breath as he opened it, running his fingertips through the ashes that remained from his inspection of the Foundation. They didn't need much for the samples. The warrior ran the ashes through his fingers, feeling a sharp shard in the velvet dust. A piece of bone remained on his stained palm. He smiled to himself, and to the silent Iris in his head.
— It's time for us to go.
Flesh
Abel saw a looping list of UN countries before his eyes. The names flashed by in a continuous carousel.
Okay, he's not surprised that over the past twenty years her character has deteriorated.
- What do you think, since there is no body, you won’t get a spanking on the ears? - he asked sarcastically, deliberately recalling how at fifteen he rolled her on the mats in the training room.
She answered almost instantly: a table of monthly measurements of height and weight. Abel couldn't help but laugh: yes, ten centimeters of height and those couple of kilograms will definitely play to her advantage.
Judging by the portraits of great writers he remembered, whom he had seen for the first time, and the numbers, he had been called a literary man. Okay, fine, ten kilograms. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. He was more concerned about something else:
- If I have already regained my consciousness, why not talk?
Iris remembered him commanding, "Stop talking!" when he was Omega Seven - did he really look that scary?
“I didn’t say that just now,” the man chuckled and Iris gave in.
- Why Romania? - Abel grinned.
- You will. So what is this idea of communicating with information?
- Habit, - the entity responded somewhat offended. It became clear that maybe the memory had been restored, but tying thoughts into words required a certain amount of effort.
“Okay, communicate however you like,” Abel waved him off.
A map of Italy appeared before his eyes, unclear and uncertain.
"Do you want to go to Italy?" The question went unanswered. It was beneath her to stoop to an obvious "Yes." On the other hand, she was eager to see Andrews and Beatrix. "You have access to most of humanity, as I recall."
A wave of alien panic washed over him, which the entity was unable to hide.
- What exactly are you afraid of? - Abel tried to take a deep breath, because fighting inside his own mind was a bit boring. The first "memory" she had created came to mind, with an endless string of two looping questions.
“To lose,” she deigned to explain. Abel sighed.
- We'll go to Italy as soon as we finish things here, and then you'll help me get into Site-17.
What does the long-haired American vocalist of the group with the Buddhist name Abel have to do with it, to be honest, I still don’t understand.
They could have argued endlessly, and they checked it out during the journey. Iris had just realized that they had covered the distance to Romania in almost six hours, and from this it followed that someone was moving a little faster than cars were allowed. Abel was about to take offense at the fact that he was not a car, while Iris once again tried to explain to him that fifteen kilometers per hour difference did not fit into the concept of "a little", but they arrived at their destination.
Abel listened, trying to find the creature that lurked in these woods. The creature was found, bending over the body: from the dislocated mouth of the pale creature protruded a flat, toothed worm, biting into the victim's neck. The creature, at first tensed up, but realizing that they were not going to attack it, peacefully continued to feed. The warrior froze, allowing the creature to finish eating. The process was not particularly pleasant: this is how spiders ate their victims, liquefying organs and tissues.
Finally, the creature pulled the parasite back inside and turned its flat face towards him: if there were eyes, they were covered with skin, its nose was flat and upturned, like a snout. It moved its protruding ears and clicked its tongue. Abel took a deep breath, remembering the language that had once been his only one.
"I want to meet The Hive Mother," the words were already melodious, and spoken with a delay, because he had once again chosen them, they resembled a song. The creature froze warily, as if it did not understand what they wanted from it. Indeed, they hardly needed intelligence, but it was smart enough not to attack. The creature retreated, disappearing into the depths of the forest. Abel carefully slid after it.
Not that the huge temple complex would surprise him at all. After all, this woman really did relish her title, wearing it with royal pride. The pale creature froze, and suddenly, with a very deliberate gesture, beckoned him inside.
Abel went down, through the ruins, even deeper. The smell of meat and blood hit his nose. Slowly, they entered the territory of the living temple, the walls increasingly took on a scarlet hue, barely noticeably trembling from the worms moving inside them and from the beating of their own bloodstream. Iris shuddered with disgust, but she remained silent, trying not to distract him. Smart girl.
The steps were barely audible on the soft floor, but he felt her approach. The most beautiful woman one could ever see. Black hair fell below her waist, miraculously not getting tangled in the gold jewelry that served as her only outfit. Gold even adorned the horns that proudly crowned her head. The mouths and eyes that chaotically cut through her body did not spoil her at all.
Abel bowed, remembering the words accepted by etiquette:
- Greetings to The Hive Mother…
- Abel! - the woman pulled him away, - Leave this nightmare!
“Well, you know,” Abel straightened up and smiled, “it would be disrespectful not to greet you properly when I come to ask for help after so many years.”
“It’s disrespectful to pretend that I’m a stranger to you,” she crossed her arms over her chest, and then extended them to him: “Come on, greet me properly.”
- As it should be or as usual? - the man laughed, taking a step towards her.
- Abel! - he just chuckled, hugging her by the shoulders.
- Glad to see you, Queen.
- You could call me mother, - she remarked reproachfully, moving away. Abel pursed his lips somewhat discontentedly. She waved her hand, - then by name, by God, as before.
“Auntie Lova,” the man teased her openly, smiling kindly.
- Lord, how many millennia must pass before this damned "auntie" disappears from your speech? What did you want?
Abel instantly became serious, handing her the bone he had found from the oven.
- What can you say about this? - the woman weighed the bone in her palm, squeezed it slightly in her fingers, chanted something that lost all meaning, more like a prayer, and looked at him.
- A bone, a human one. The girl is not very tall, thin, but healthy, pale as milk, her hair is also pale, her eyes are blue, as if the sun had never touched her, she has lived a little more than thirty years, it seems she is from the family of…
- Can you return it? - Abel got to the main point, making the woman puzzled, squeezing the find, weighing it in his hand.
- It’s not that it’s impossible, but the process…
- Difficult?
- Who do you take me for? - The queen rose proudly, pursing her lips. - Unpleasant, and it will take about a year.
- It's not like we're in any hurry, right, Iris? - the entity had been in shock all this time, quiet.
- Oh! Now I can feel it, - the woman perked up, mentally reaching out to the girl. She had slipped away quite skillfully, hiding somewhere in the corners of his consciousness. It seemed she had seen the demigods with their wonderful perception in a coffin, and it would be better if they didn't touch her. - How lovely. Who is this?
“My scout,” Abel tried very hard to contain his pride, making his voice deliberately calm.
- Yes? Wow, so she doesn't just look like your mother, - Iris seemed to have completely fallen out of reality, frozen like a statue.
- You broke her worldview, auntie - Abel looked at the woman reproachfully. She blinked in shock, causing the shadows from her fluffy eyelashes to flutter on her cheeks.
- How did she think you showed up?
- I'm not sure she even thought about it before.
“Okay, I’ll take care of your business, and my children will take you to the village in the meantime. I beg you, show them mercy,” Lovataar made a funny face, reinforcing her request.
- Don't worry, I'm not interested in those who can't fight back.
***
- Sorry. I got distracted, - Abel snorted, relacing the dagger's sheath.
- Something happened? - a message appeared before her eyes, consisting of several points. "Proposal", "Council decision", "Measures taken" - it seemed they tried to neutralize her once again. It all ended badly: a report on the death of several MTFs followed.
- More difficult, - the entity shared. Abel was silent, waiting for the continuation. - It used to be easier to get rid of.
- Are they becoming more cunning?
- No. Their thoughts are in the palm of your hand.
- Is your conscience bothering you? Welcome back to the boundaries of human perception, - Iris felt heavy, and she tried to change the subject.
- What are you doing?
- Me? - Abel looked around the forest from his place. A fallen pine tree created a comfortable bench, just right for enjoying the view of his own entertainment and corpses. - So I dealt with a couple of guests. This time they tried something new, because the last couple of times they died pointlessly. It was even boring. It seems they can't use weapons of mass destruction now.
- They are afraid of harming Lova.
- I see you quickly found a common language with her.
- Like a second mother?
“She is the personification of motherhood,” Abel shrugged. “The mother of our pack and clan.”
- Why not mother?
- I already have a mother, and she is the only one, no matter how much I love Lova, and no matter what connects us with her and… - he stopped short. - Even if sometimes she was warmer and kinder than Mom, she still loved me as best she could. She didn't know how.
- Mother?
- Yes, - Abel snorted and stretched out his hand, examining the white tattoo, almost invisible on olive skin and covered by other symbols. White snakes flowed along his fingers and forearm, - I was four when she gave me a newborn viper. She didn’t know how to react to my admiration. My father laughed for a long time, especially considering that before that she almost threw him out of the house when he brought her a bear cub, a white one, as a gift. How did he end up in the north during a hunt?
- What happened to this?
- With whom? A snake or a bear? Or did you say that about your father?
- That's it? - there was uncertainty in the entity's voice.
- Nothing, - Abel shrugged. - My parents helped me feed the snake, it was a loyal creature, even though it was poisonous. My mother's bear walked on eggshells, slept in the living room when allowed, lived in the cellar, ate fish. She didn't kick my father out, but she wouldn't let me bring the elephant. And the house was a zoo anyway.
The pale creature crawled out, clicking its tongue, warily moving between the trees, sniffed and crawled up to one of the operatives.
- All yours. - Abel waved his hand at him graciously. Apparently, the victim was still alive, since the creature began its feeding process. Abel lazily watched this, waiting for it to finish.
Finally, the creature straightened up, waving its hand as if beckoning Abel to follow it. The man followed.
Lovataar met them deep within the living temple. He saw her smile: proud, almost smug.
- Do you want to see her? - she perked up, eager to show off her progress. Without waiting for an answer, she beckoned Abel to follow her, turning around, - Whatever you say, but even women sometimes find it difficult to be touched by the sight of a baby, but an adult…
Abel followed her into the hall. On a bone altar decorated with scarlet clots of flesh forming runes lay a pale human body, curled into a fetal position. Deep wounds covered the spine, arms and legs, forming thaumaturgical symbols through which the body was connected to the translucent shell covering it. No longer as emaciated as in the memories in the laboratory.
- I think I'm still too young, - Lovataar admitted honestly, tearing Abel away from contemplating her masterpiece. From time to time, the body even blinked, breathed, and their ears could hear the heartbeat quietly, - another five years, so as not to miss anything, I think I'll finish by the full moon. What do you think?
- That no one but you could have managed it, auntie, especially so similarly - smiled Abel, sitting down on the edge of the altar, watching how the body was breathing evenly. - I've long wanted to ask: "he didn't tell you anything about that incident"?
- No, - the woman frowned thoughtfully and crossed her arms over her chest, - you know, he never shared anything with anyone. What was in his heart, only you, as a brother, knew.
- But that case is special, - Abel sighed deeply. - I wouldn't believe him, but you are his mother.
“I don’t think he still considers himself entitled to call himself our child, after he was bound by the forces of those who tried to destroy us,” she hugged herself by the shoulders, “I haven’t seen him since then.”
- I saw, he's alive. Alright. But we didn't talk, - Abel rubbed his forehead. - I thought I remembered what happened, but I doubt it more and more.
- Tell him if you see that I miss him.
- Of course, - Abel smiled and carefully touched the warm membrane covering the alien body. - Hey, Iris, I have a question for you.
The entity felt a little more distinct inside, as if it had retreated before, allowing them to talk.
- Will you become my wife?
In retaliation, he was once again reminded of his unfortunate psychological characteristics, maliciously recalling that, in addition to his different way of thinking and lack of empathy, the ideas of sex, love and equality were alien to him. Abel merely shrugged his shoulders.
“I may not be able to love you like a mortal, but I will respect you for your intelligence and skills,” Iris thought, after all, she was not such a child to believe in love, princes and what they write about in books.
“Do you want to try to start a family with me?” she asked.
- Yes.
- I treasured you. Very much. - the entity hesitated, choosing its words: - and respected you. But I don't remember well. Can we return to this conversation?
- When will you think about it?
- When I can touch.
“Okay,” Lova laughed quietly.
- I remember how your father tried to get your mother. Honestly, I was afraid that they would both be exiled for his antics. Especially when he dragged that huge fish into the streets of the city.
- Whale. It's called a blue whale now, - Abel smiled.
"His carcass stank for months," the woman grimaced, "but it was funny. He was persistent. I'm sure he taught you loyalty."
Abel smiled at this compliment.
“I’m tired,” Iris interrupted the pause.
"Rest," he sighed, feeling the entity's mind leaving him, going into the abyss, leaving only those fragments of the information virus capable of rushing around other minds. Abel carefully lay down next to the sleeping body.
Conclusion
Item #: SCP-3002
Object Class: Neutralized
Follow-up Actions Taken: During the assault on the [DATA EXPUNGED] site, MTF Alpha-1 managed to reset the timeline, trapping SCP-3002 within SCP-2000.
Incident Report: SCP-076-2 was successfully neutralized during an encounter with MTF Epsilon-11 "Nine-Tailed Fox", and control over Containment Site-25b has now been successfully restored, with the subject returned to containment.
Iris squinted lazily, exposing her pale face to the hot rays of the Italian sun. From under the lace sleeves of her white blouse, traces of wounds were still visible, forming runes.
“Are you sure you can have alcohol?” Beatrix belatedly decided to clarify, having finished uncorking the bottle.
“I’m twenty-five, only physically,” the girl snorted resentfully and smiled at her friend, “it’s possible.”
The liquid was warm in color, as if it had a topaz sheen as it fell into the glasses.
- So, how did it all end in the end? - Iris shrugged.
- I don't think you can be a deity while still having a human consciousness, I had to choose. Human existence is a little more interesting to me than power. Let the Foundation think it won. I kept some tricks with information for myself, but they are very similar to what I did before. With photographs, - she explained. - Let's just assume that I am very charming.
- What do you plan to do now? - Beatrix glanced at the alley a few meters away. The shots and screams went completely unnoticed by passersby.
"Are we sure we shouldn't help them?" Iris followed her gaze. Her friend just waved her hand.
- Let them have fun, Abel himself is not enough, and Andrews is also climbing the walls from boredom, he thinks he is like a computer now.
“Are you planning on staying here?” Beatrix just shrugged.
- We've been here for almost twenty years and we haven't changed much, people will soon start to suspect something.
- Haven't decided yet where you'll go?
- No. And you?
- We need to meet with Cain in Site-17, and after that I would like to visit the Wanderers' Library and, if possible, contact the Serpent's Hand.
“It sounds like an interesting, somewhat crazy plan, in the best traditions of Pandora’s Box,” the woman smiled.
"Come on in," Iris laughed, taking a sip of the tart liquid. The sweet port burned her throat.
- I suppose so. By the way, you mentioned something about a ritual in the village, what was it?
“A wedding,” the girl laughed, “he invited me, and I thought it was interesting and crazy enough to agree.”
She looked towards the alley from which two men emerged, with military confidence and the pride of winners. The tall, dark-haired warrior, covered in tattoos, involuntarily attracted her gaze. Tough, confident and reliable.
- How could you refuse? - Beatrix looked at the other, but smiled understandingly.
- Really.