Transmutation

Link to article: Transmutation.

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[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/>]]

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:space]]
[[include :scp-wiki:theme:cosmos]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source start=--
|name=P-H Vixter]]
**Part III**

//Some bots are just distractions,//
//Some bots are just Gold.//
[[include :scp-wiki:component:author-label-source end=--]]

[[module CSS]]
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[[module CSS]]

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A young man emerged from the populace, branching off on his own. Walking and walking until the ground beneath recognized his existence. He was using a cane to walk around. Not that he had any back problems, but that he had been shot in the eye. The bullet destroyed his eye and, by extension, his motor cortex. Well, no, not //destroyed// but injured enough that he could not walk without a trusty friend on his side.

One could say it had been hours; he himself would say it had been eons since he began to walk. He was tired, but the coordinates written on the note requested him to walk towards the face of earth that no foot had ever stepped on. That place was a city on its own, but it was built with materials alien to earth.

The man was named //Alan Dell'oro.// Turkish for the first name and Italian for the surname. He did not know if his mother ever gave him a middle name. He turned his head to see the welcome sign situated in proximity to him.

//"Welcome to the City of Nameless!"//

A city with non-Euclidean geometry, making it spatially invisible unless looked at from the perspective of a higher plane or a very hyper-specific angle. A place the sun never shone light upon, nor did it possess any streetlights of its own.

The city, from an outsider's perspective, was like a video game glitch. Flickering in and out of view once approached close enough. The man stopped in his tracks to process what he was seeing. He re-checked the coordinates, and it was true; this was the place.

But was it dangerous? He wouldn't know until this place took a piece of him. With his cane as his leader, he entered the place that did not belong to this universe. Once inside, the place became more stable in terms of visibility. But the screwed geometry was still making itself present throughout. He sometimes tripped, bumped, and broke things he couldn't even see.

This place was not abandoned, however; it had people. It had people whose eyes could not be seen. They were always shadowed regardless of perspective. They never talked, they never made //noise//, they never bothered. But they were, evidently, aware of Alan's presence.

Due to the sheer quietness of this place, the very act of his cane touching the ground could be heard from miles away. It gave Alan the creeps, but they weren't dangerous, so he thought it was just his paranoia. He checked the sticky note once again. It told him to enter a church and meet a... “figure”?

He lifted his head up, eyeing his surroundings. There weren't any churches that he could see. So he continued. He wanted to ask those people for directions, but it felt like the very act of speaking would be disturbing the peace. He did not want to test the laws of a city that defied the universe.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes.

There was nothing. He could not find it. He sat on one of the steps of a descending asphalt staircase and rested himself. He checked the hour; it was //5.58 AM//.

//"In the morning?"// Alan commented to himself in his thoughts. //"It was early noon when I entered here. Does this place possess a different time?"//

That was, despite not being a different dimension on its own, true. One may imagine it like a black hole's time dilation. The closer you are, the slower time is. But in this case, the inverse was true. An opposing force to that which many black-suit-wearing mystery-men would represent themselves as. Accounting for the fact that this place houses "nameless" people, Alan deduced that this place was made by a Nobody who possessed a distaste for the operations of his peers.

Suddenly, he heard childish giggles echoing between the buildings. He darted his head in the direction of them, but every time it played, the sound came from different directions. He looked back at his clock.

//5:59... 6:00//

A grand bell rang that could be heard across the entire city. It was slow but loud-- It was the ring of the call for prayer. Although Alan thought this was more of a personal sign than an actual invention of worship. There weren't any churches when he looked, and for certain none of the citizens of this obsidian-like city were religious.

He took his cane and bolted towards the source of the sound.

And then he found it, ringing as loud as the big bang itself, a grand church that by all means he should've found long ago. He even remembered this pathway; he had been through here before. Geometric invisibility be damned!

He approached the entrance and extended his hand towards it, but before he could touch it, it opened on its own. Someone, something, was calling for him here. A prayer for him to hear.

Inside, it was cosmetically empty. It was as if this church had been built only for the entire plan to be abandoned.

He felt a sense of presence deep within the chapel. His gut told him to move forward. And so, he did. With caution, of course.

When he made it in, he saw a figure right at the opposite end of the room, standing behind the preaching table with no microphone on it. Alan asked immediately, "Who are you?"

The figure, once given a more careful look, was none other than one of the Nobodys. Alan's eyes relaxed at the revelation, but this Nobody in particular flinched at his reaction, as if being compared to his other peers were an insult to him. He slowly descended the 3-step stairs and came to the same level as Alan, now only standing 5 feet away from him.

"You've been called here, correct?" Said the figure, completely ignoring his question.

Alan produced the sticky note that he used as guidance, holding it between the end of his index and middle fingers. "Yes. Both by the bells and whoever wants me to be in the 'Hub.'"

Nobody's reaction didn't change; even if his eyes could not be seen like the rest of the citizens, Alan could tell this Nobody was a more serious one than the ones he met before. He continued, "Are you my guidance?"

Nobody simply replied, "Yes," and nothing more than that. His voice was displeased, as if this was a deal he was forced to make.

"Why a church?" Alan asked, looking around, studying the structure. It looked like it could've been more, but it was empty. There was no life in this building except for his own. Not a single citizen had entered this church before or heard its bells.

It was empty.

Alan continued, "You... made this place?"

Nobody simply replied, "Yes."

"And the citizens?"

"People who could've been more." Replied Nobody. The shadow cast upon his eyes darkened deeper. "People whom the world lost the grip of and never realized they were missing. I grabbed them before they hit the ground. I gave them the inability to hunger or thirst. To age or to wither. And now they exercise their freedom in my streets."

"But they're like ghosts," Alan objected. "No senses. No feelings. Unaware of the world around them, as it was never meant to be seen in the first place."

"That's the nature of losing your connection with the world. Cut from life itself, but the soul is never separated from the body. When you lose your identity, you lose your life, stuck with a withering soul inside the body."

Nobody slowly lifted his hand; his glove was bloody. "I am their leader, their protector. I make sure their lives are not taken a second time." And that blood belonged to an intruder thief who had stolen from this city and killed a citizen.

"But my peers," Nobody continued, "they thrive upon it. They touch a body and make it their own. They throw their soul into oblivion. Nothingness. That's why I do not like what they are."

"Rebellion against your nature?"

"It's not natural; it's a coping mechanism. Jealousy turned into selfishness. I will never be like them; I will rot in this body with pride."

And he truly meant those words. They originated from a place of hatred, which saw beyond the necessities of fulfilling a role. They all were meant to protect the world and help others to not become like themselves.

But that hatred was attractive like a magnet. There was a set of eyes that belonged to neither of them inside this church. There was a //powerful// presence, and that sensation snapped Nobody back to his original purpose.

"He's here..." Nobody opened his palm; a glowing purple orb manifested inside. And then he closed his palm, crushing it like glass. With that orb broken, reality began to shift into a spiral, and Alan started to ascend through the higher dimensions.

"Good luck." Nobody simply said before Alan could no longer hear his voice. The spatiality turned and turned like a tornado, and then static faded in. "//Don't fly too close to the sun...//"

Alan closed his eyes.

And his feet touched the ground.

He opened his eyes again.

There it was. The building.

He approached, stopping in front of the stairs ascending up to the entrance door. Alan looked at the cane in his hand and sighed.

A total of 6 minutes and 24 seconds to fully ascend a 20-step-long stair. He cursed himself in a whisper. He felt like an old man, the exact opposite of what he was. This disability was an insult to his youthful capabilities. //Damn it!//

He lightly pushed the door open; the bell rang gently. The inside was empty. Everyone was gone, but the lively colors remained. He entered, and once inside, his eyes immediately locked on the one behind the bartender table.

"Short time no see." He simply said, waving his hand for Alan to approach. And so he did.

"Short time? I remember no time." He sat on one of the stools and looked at his right. The wall had faint blood on it. With that information added, the gears inside his head started to spin.

His eye was covered with a bandage. The wall has faint blood on it. He was called to be here. The person before him implied he has been here before. Therefore, he got shot here.

"The note said I should be here. Why?"

"Boss said you're an important piece." The figure replied. "You're one of us, but a special one at that. We're just coals. You will be given a suit and fedora made out of real gold. Would you believe that?"

"What... are you talking about? Real gold?"

"Indeed. But first," the figure extended an open hand across the short table. It had a glowing green outline. "Let me heal that wound of yours."

And then, the figure touched Alan's forehead. And with that, the wound hidden behind that bandage started to fade. All the brain matter that was destroyed regrew. That sensation was almost impossible to verbalize-- It was not 'good,' 'bad,' 'disgusting,' or anything in between.

But once it was over, his brain was whole again. Now it wasn't as painful.

"Go ahead" the figure said, "Take a walk."

Alan followed, carefully lowering himself from the stool and standing on his feet. The sense of balance had returned, albeit not completely; he still needed his cane to walk around. But at least now he could move his legs without looking like an old man.

"I healed you in a specific way," said the figure from behind. "I gave you what you need. I kept what you don't. There will come a time where you will emerge anew, and that 'you' will have control over the parts of your body that you don't now."

That was one flowery talk if Alan ever heard one. Was it even worth questioning what he meant by that? He mentally handwaved it away and said, "You said I have to look different. How?"

"Let me give it to you."

The bartender of this empty building pressed a button hidden underneath the table, and the wall where Alan's dry bloodstain was mechanically opened, revealing a suit and fedora worn by a thin armor stand. It was just like every other Nobody out there, except this one was gold. Real gold. Its saturation was rather dull, as no light was making contact with it somehow.

Alan's eye widened in surprise. "This... belongs to me?" He did not see himself to be fit for such majesty.

"Indeed," Nobody said. "You may think you are overqualified, but no, you're perfect the way you are."

--That sounded like a phrase someone would say to emotionally support someone in struggle. Alan wouldn't be far from such a target, but it didn't come from the right person to give himself a morale boost. He was more excited about the golden suit.

Alan carefully and slowly reached out to the stand. But before he could make physical contact with it, the suit emanated a bright white light, temporarily blinding everyone that was looking, leaving Nobody behind.

Once the light disappeared as fast as it emerged, Alan found himself to be inside of it, standing in the same pose. It teleported itself unto him, like a chosen one.

Alan looked at himself, fascinated. "Looks like I am the King Arthur of suits, huh?"

Despite being gold, it never carried the weight of one. It was gentle on the body, and it was flexible just like an ordinary suit. The suit, which was previously dull, started to shine eagerly as if it were alive despite no change of lighting having happened.

Full of energy and youthful innocence reflected into the reality in the form of yellow light emanating from a young man who escaped from his previous life. Truly, it was a sight to behold. But the best Nobody could do was display a smile. And so, he asked, "What's your full name, Alan?"

"Alan Dell'oro. I assumed all of you guys mysteriously know about my name."

"We do, of course. But have you ever stopped to ponder if that name ever had a significant meaning to it?"

That caught Alan off guard, and he immediately went into endless thoughts. "My name... Alan... My mom is Turkish; could that have to do with anything?

"You're halfway there," he said with a teasing smile. He knew the answer but bit his tongue. "Alan, a rather ordinary name among Englishmen, possesses an important meaning when looked at with context and with a surname."

"Surname... Dell'oro? What about it?"

"Sadly, you're on your own. But once you find out, you'll realize you've been chosen from the beginning."

"This is too much vague talk for my liking, but damn it, now I am curious about my own surname."

Nobody laughed audibly at his response. "From now on, you're gold among coals. But I am not done yet."

"Hm?"

The figure opened a drawer, extracted an item, and closed it. He put that item on the table. A golden stopwatch with a timer in the shape of blue-colored squares forming a circle inside. "This is a watch that, once activated, allows you to fake your death upon taking any kind of physical damage and leaves a decoy corpse on the scene with the injuries you //would// have gotten. Every one minute and twelve seconds, it recharges, and the decoy corpse disappears."

Alan reached his hand to it but was quickly stopped by the figure.

"Not yet."

"What?"

The figure swept his arm into the air, as if clearing the dust from an invisible glass, revealing all the Nobodys that were seated behind the boy as his arm passed. "This watch..." The figure began, looking down on the stopwatch. "Is created by our Highest. The one that is responsible for our existence. For it to be bestowed upon you, every one of the citizens should unanimously agree with it."

The figure grabbed the watch and lifted it up into the air for everyone to see. "Oh, people of darkness, the force of nature and future. It is within our capability to make the clock tick backwards and undo actions; it is within our capability to make space nothing more than a sponge to be squeezed for our entertainment. Should this boy before you be granted the ability to cheat death with the tool created by our Almighty?"

And with that, it was agreed to be so. They said nothing; they did nothing. But their eyes had glimmered with the power of multiple souls used as the fuel. Even if it was just for a second-- It was seen. It was acknowledged and responded to.

And, in the blink of an eye, they disappeared as fast as they appeared. Alan's heart skipped multiple beats in this short time frame. What the hell was that!

"And they agree. So, take it, Alan. May death never reach you again."

The figure pushed the stopwatch on the table with an audible grind. Alan turned again to face the figure and looked down.

He took the golden stopwatch, looking at its surface with a still-shocked face. It had the carving of a dove on its lid. It was made professionally.

"And one more item will be given to you for your future encounter. But before the deliverer arrives, it is within my responsibility to make sure you are prepared for it."

Alan took a moment to even reply to it. He couldn't tell if all this build-up was exciting or anxiety-inducing. "What will I be doing? I was called here, and I went through a weird city to even come here somehow. All this preparation—what is it for?"

"For a fight." Said the figure, "Remember the peer that shot you in the head? He is on the loose, with his childish rebellion seated in the middle of his mind. He is still being tested by Boss, and he wants to cheat his way out. Luckily, Boss predicted that, and so, prepared //you// to put him in his place."

"This seems... rather overdone. Why not just deal with him himself if he is so unstable?"

"So you can get to shine, Alan. Maybe you'll get a dear friend on the way. But, all this flowery talk aside, it's to make him steal a reality-bending book. He is on his way to one of the SCP Foundation facilities and will turn the place upside-down, inside-out. You need to defeat him and get that book for Boss."

"And how am I going to do that? My knuckles are rusty; I can't do much with them."

"You don't need to use those. You will be handed over the necessary weapons. About... now."

Suddenly, the entrance door to the Hub was knocked. "Hello, may I enter?"

"You may enter. Nobody's here." Said Nobody, the figure.

The door opened, and another Nobody entered inside. His clothes were damaged, as if he were running away from gunfire. He wasn't injured, though. He was holding a small item box. He approached and put the box on the bartender's table and took a seat himself. He was visibly exhausted.

"Not the best day, huh?" The figure asked jokingly. But the tone was very assured, as if he knew what happened.

"Stealing and running away from organizations that can send a military after your ass before you can find a shadow to hide within just so happens to be very exhausting."

"I assume this is the box that contains the weapon he was talking about earlier?" Alan asked, examining the box. It wasn't secured; only two small locks anyone could open with their hands.

Both Nobodys replied in unison, "That is correct."

"Wow—"

"But you won't be able to open it." The figure said. "Marshall is sometimes more secure than the SCP Foundation. They make things look simple and make them require complex methods to solve."

"What?"

Alan tried to push the two small locks open, but they just wouldn't budge. Maybe his fingers don't have strength, or someone broke it and then used Japanese glue to put them in place, and now no one can open it. "What... the... hell...?"

He let go of them, shaking his hands aimlessly to shrug the pain off from his fingers. "What the hell is this made out of?"

"Nothing special," The figure said, almost... tauntingly. "It's sealed behind thoughts. That is, the Noosphere. It uses thoughts to hold the locks."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know what the Noosphere is, golden boy?" Said the Nobody sitting next to him.

"...No?"

"It's the non-physical realm of human thoughts. It creates worlds out of thoughts, and those worlds create more thoughts, and it repeats infinitely. But it can also be utilized like a reality anchor or reality modifier. You just need to think of this box being open really, really, //really// hard, and it will be opened."

"...How exactly? Visualize it?"

"Yes. You need to think without error. Exactly how reality would play it out. Overwhelm the protective thoughts of the box. You can do it."

Alan shifted his sight to the box. Took a silent but deep inhale, and //thought.//

He visualized the box being opened, but it resulted in nothing happening. So he did it again, and it was nothing again. He thought //harder//, and a smoother, more animated animation of the box being opened played in his head. But nothing happened. So he thought //harder//, more closely, and more detailed. He visualized the atoms of the box, he played the sound of the box creaking inside his head, and he visualized this building, in and out. He visualized himself and the people next to him. He visualized this entire goddamn dimension. He thought //hard//; even a sweat went down from the side of his head just because of how //hard// he was thinking.

Eventually, his offensive-thoughts overwhelmed the box's defensive-thoughts inside the Noosphere. And with a click, the box creaked open, just as smoothly as Alan visualized it— it became a reality.

"I...! I did it! I fuckin' did it!!"

Inside the wooden box was a golden Desert Eagel. So shiny, so brilliant. Alan could see his own refection on it. A name was written inside of the upper lid of the box, "//The Emperor. Manually engineered by Marshall, Carter & Dark, Ltd.//"

"This is..."

"--A gun with infinite ammo. You can control the trajctory of the bullets with your thoughts."

Alan picked it up. It was made perfectly for his palm. As if it was made for him thousands of years ago. Someone worthy to pick it up and shoot at those bastards who cause senseless havoc in the realm of peace and innocence.

The figure snapped his fingers, and the Nobody sitting next to Alan disappeared like a popping balloon. He was... an illusion? The figure teleported to the other side of the table, sitting on Alan's other side, lighting a cigarette for himself.

"The material used to make the Emperor was given to Marshall's by a figure outside of our collection of worlds." The figure, which can now be called Nobody without confusion since the other one was gone, said, "He goes by many names, has multiple bodies, and has admirable brawn. He, alongside a Golden Witch, was a huge inspiration for this operation. They were people of Gold, just like you are now. I wish I could tell you more, but..."

Suddenly, a loud grandfather clock started to ring inside the building. The source of the noise was untraceable, as if it were omnipresent across the dimension.

"...Time is up. He is here. You better go now."

This presence...

"Who... or what, is here? The other one said this too."

"Our Highest. He wants you to start your first mission. All you have to do is defeat him. His number is 12. Take the book and run away. The others will clean the leftovers for you."

Alan stayed silent. Unsure.

"Don't worry. You will not die. We made sure of that."

"...I see."

Alan finally stood up from the stool. It felt like he had been sitting for an hour by now. The grandfather clock kept ringing, pushing away all the questions he could form out of his mind. He obeyed and started to walk towards the exit door.

He let his cane lead him again. He put the golden gun and stopwatch inside his inner pockets and twisted the doorknob.

The door opened, and the first thing he saw was the morning star, the sun, going down the horizon. He smiled softly and looked over his shoulder. "Thank you for this new life."

He stepped forward, and the door closed by itself.

//Bang.//

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box
|author=P-H Vixter]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

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