Interlude - Two good deeds.

It was just another rainy day, as Kaplan walked to the bus stop, soaking wet. He had forgotten his umbrella. Just another in the many coincidences that made his day miserable. When he woke up this morning, he had been ready to face the day, but it was just one of those days. Nothing went right.

In the morning, half asleep as he drank his morning coffee he bumped his toe into the table and accidentally spilled it all over his freshly ironed clothes. That meant changing into another pair. And brewing another cup of coffee. Gods, he couldn't do without his coffee. But he already knew the day was going to bad right there. His dickhead of a HR rep wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he was late. And he was. Worse, in his hurry he had forgotten the umbrella and his glasses. And to zip up his pants. That was another fake sexual harassment charge from that bitch in accounting.

"It's not my fault the toilets are all the way over, by the accounting department." He grumbled as another gust of wind sent chills all over his body. Shit was cold.

"When is that goddamn bus coming?" He looked out into the distance but without his glasses it was all just blurry.

He sighed.

Just thinking about that fat blue haired bitch made his guts boil. She was just waiting to oust him and get his position. He didn't even know how someone who majored in lesbian dance therapy got a job in accounting, much less why she wanted to take his post as chief engineer; except well, the pay. The pay was phenomenal. It was the only thing that kept him here in this goddamn black company. He had worked hard, scraped and bled to get this position. If she wanted it she'd have to take it from his cold dead hands!

Then, after a gruelling 10 hour day, as he walked out, with two hours of unpaid overtime, because of course it was unpaid, he stood soaking wet in the rain, waiting for the bus.

In the distance, he could see two faint lights coming over.

"Fucking finall-"

Splash!

The bus zipped past him, through the puddles on the road, splashing him in muddy, dirty water.

Pthew! He spat out the water as he resisted the urge to hurl.

"Just my luck!" He wiped his face, "Can this day get any worse?!"

"Don't tempt fate, man." A hippie looking white guy in dreadlocks said from beside him as he smoked a joint.

That just ticked him off. What did this bastard know, and for that matter, what did fate have to do with it?

"It shits on me without me even tempting it, why should I give a shit about it?" He raised a middle finger to the sky, "Fuck fate. Fuck the heavens. Fuck all of it. Come at me bro!"

"Dude don't- What the fuck?!" The hippie looked up behind Kaplan.

Kaplan turned around too just in time to see the sky burn with light, turning night to day in an instant.

"Is that a....tree?"

Suddenly the Earth shook, storm winds blew and the grey phantom tree in the sky just glowed brighter, so bright that it momentarily blinded him.

The earthquake came again, and the road before him cracked, the shakes and the blindness sent stumbling off the pavement and into the street.

A peal of thunder, lightning struck down, shocking him, as he fell to the ground.

Behind him, a truck swerved, the wet roads and the sudden lightning strike threw the man's control off the vehicles as it ran straight over Kaplan's charred body, tearing him in two, but at this point he couldn't even feel the pain. His mind scrambled and fried, his body unresponsive, he could only lay there in the dirty puddle as he waited for help, half conscious.

But no help would be coming. He knew it too, deep inside.

That was just his luck.

Just one thought pervaded his mind.

He was going to die.

A profound pain gripped his chest and he seized, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"No...no..I don't want to die...mama.....no....noooo...." He cried with laboured breaths as his life flashed before his eyes, his dead mother's image calling him.

The memory of his childhood, so blissful, so unaware. Now he was all alone.

They had been rich once. His father was a fairly successful real estate broker. His mother was a kindly housewife. It was perfect. All of it.

But then, they both died in a car accident and his relatives stole his inheritance from his naive 14 year old self. That was 20 years ago now.

He sniffled in choked sobs as every breath became a labour. Nostalgia filled him, feelings of time lost, a place long gone.

He remembered a phrase.

Paradise isn't a place, it's a state of being.

He sniffled.

His mother's image was now accompanied by his father. They were both dead now. And soon he'd be too.

All alone. Worthless.

At world's end a thought accosted him, a deep held insecurity.

What had he achieved in life? What was his life worth? What now?

Worthless.

No. I can't die like this. I have yet to fulfill my dreams...my dreams...what were my dreams?

He laughed painfully at the thought. He had lost my dreams. Long ago. Crushed by the vicissitudes of adult life and the ravages of time, the rigid practicalities of life sapping the life out of his innocence. The dreamer in him had died. The glint in his eyes was gone.

They say, a man dies twice. Once when he dies and once again when he ia forgotten.

What about him? Who would remember him?

No. I can't die like this. I can't. I just can't.

He looked up at the sky at the glowing phantom of the tree growing slowly, bathed in soft light.

"Oh gods, Jesus, Vishnu, Allah, Buddha. Anyone. Please. Please. Just one more chance..... one more time. I promise..... this time.....I won't waste it. This time...." He breathed fiercely, the pain racking his mind as his eyes glowed with resolution.

"This time... I'll make sure....I won't be worthless. I.....I will carve my name so deep into the crust of the Earth that no one will ever forget me." He coughed up blood as something in his head snapped.

"Please...." He begged as the life left his eyes. And so, another worthless soul died.

With a pop he appeared in a vast darkness. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't feel anything. But he heard a voice. Or more that it echoed with his very soul.

"Kaplan Hedge. This one's next. His soul profile matches our requirements." It said.

"Even if it doesn't, what would it matter? You have contingency measures in place, don't you darling?" Another voice said.

"I do."

Suddenly, he felt something wash over him and instinctually he knew. They were looking at him. Gods. He could guess that much.

"So you want a second chance eh?" The voice, majestic and powerful asked.

"Yes! Just one more chance. Please, whoever you are. I'll do anything, oh god. I'll dedicate my life to you. To your worship. Just one more chance, please!" He thought.

"Hehehehehe, I like the initiative. You're perfect. Say, how would you like to be the first test subject for my multiversal gamer system?"

There was only one answer he could give to that.

"Yes!"

.

In a ruined world, in the SCP multiverse.

Rudra watched Caelen fly away into the distance with Jason's severed head as the tentacles of dark, rotting liquid pulled him into the bubbling puddle of tar-like goo. A rotting stench wafted from it, permeating throughout all of Site 23.

He knew they wouldn't make it in time. Now he could only hope Alison valued him enough to make a deal with the Pale Lady to save him. He did still owe her two favors. Were they worth it for her to save him though? He doubted it. That shrewd little shit wasn't likely to waste it on him. Still, he hoped Jason would convince her. Somehow.

Because there was no way he was escaping this any other way.

Not that it meant he'd go down quietly.

Rudra struggled as the tentacles dug into has flesh, the liquid sizzling as it melted his legs off.

"Dammit dammit dammit!" Rudra kicked at the entity in the portal. His legs were already being dissolved. He didn't have long.

"Why don't you just fucking die you wrinkly old fuck?!"

SCP-106 just laughed at his predicament as he dipped into the portal.

Fuck it. Now that it's come to this, I'll just burn my legs off.

He slammed his hands together making as he pulled on the EVE inside him. Twisting his hands he pulled them apart, drawing thaumaturgical runes into the air with his blood.

"Restitution for the damned, burning vice of man, rid the original sin. Call of Gehenna, Hellfire!"

The air before him rippled, a burning mouth appeared, cackling in a thousand screaming voices as it opened it toothy maw.

He shut off my pain receptors and screamed at the demonic mouth.

"Fucking burn it already!" He pushed it and instantly the mouth spewed forth a red flame like a tidal wave into the portal. But it was useless. A gushing torrent of the same rotting liquid rushed out, extinguishing the flames and destroying his summon.

The EVE destabilized and the runes shattered like glass, sending a wave of backlash at him. His muscles froze, his nerves burst and tears of blood flowed from his eyes. He coughed up blood and fell flat onto the floor.

Fuck.

Is this how it ends? Here?

No. He refused to go down like this.

Never.

His mind ran a mile a minute as he assessed all his options, when his eyes fell on the lily chains around his wrist.

Yes, this could work. The blue lily chains were something every Serpent's Hand operative was familiar with. They were magical weave that signified friendship among the fae and granted minor luck and protection enchantments. Rudra had been working on finding an explout in these for a while now and he had indeed found one. He just wasn't sure it would work. Or that he would survive the backlash if it went sideways. But compared to being digested slowly by SCP-106, it was far better to just risk it all!

With resolve, he reached down and pulled at the third flower on his right and twisted the third petal on said flower, activating his latest anomalous skill, The Sacred Geometry Of The Number Three. It was a skill that involved the manipulation of all things that come in threes, and with enough practice it's users could realign ever the stars. Of course, he had just started practicing it last week so he could barely transform three gummy bears into three skittles but hey, better than nothing.

His intentions here were simple. Pull the minor luck enchantment into a revursive loop till it overclocked and gave him a temporary major luck enchantment.

Pushing his power into the twisted petal he watched as it coursed through the chain, a glowing blue veinous pulse that tore the flower chain apart. It exploded with a pop, blowing up the chain as the flower petals rained down onto the cracked, dorty floor of Site 23, sending a wave of magic all over the place. The space shifted, reality realigned and in the brief window of opportunity, Rudra expressed his wish.

"Save me."

He waited and watched as the puddle began to bubble again, but nothing happened. It didn't work.

It didn't work. Rudra deflated.

The old man laughed, his dry, hoarse chuckle spelling Rudra's doom.

He rose out of his puddle slowly as if he was riding an escalator and walked towards him slowly. He was clearly relishing in his fear and misery, this sadistic wrinkled ballsack!

Rudra grit his teeth and glared back at the old man.

No. He refused to give the old man the pleasure. Decisively, he stuck out his tongue and made to bite down on it when-

"You look like you could use some help."

A man in a labcoat walked out from a glowing green portal.

He had seen this man, he remembered. Just an year ago. What was his name again, Jay something?

'You think?' Rudra snapped inside but ourside he appeared perfectly courteous.

"Yes please!"

"Heh, lucky aren't you?" Jay laughed, raising his hand. The next moment, a blinding light flooded the hallway, and Rudra could hear the old man screeching in pain as he retreated into the puddle and disappeared.

By the time the light dimmed a d he could see again, he was somewhere else, fully healed and from the corner of his eye he could spot Site 23 in the distance.

"Thank you." Rudra said with genuine gratitude.

"You're welcome." Jay replied, helping him to his feet.

"Ready to go home?" He asked.

"Home?"

"We talked about this last year?" Jay reminded him, "Once I was done with my stuff I promised to help return you to your home?"

Oh right. He did say that.

Shit, can he already do that?

Rudra didn't want to leave yet. He wasn't ready.

"Can you send me home right now?" He probed.

"Well, not immediately. I scanned you already. I'll go back and get my systems on it and in a couple of years we'll find your homeworld."

Rudra almost sighed in relief.

"That's great. Thank you, again, I guess..."

"No problem." Jay laughed, patting his back, "Come now, let's get you back to the library, I'm sure you have quite the tale to tell. Especially how you ended up here, fighting that old sack of shit."

"It's really not that big of a- oh wait. My gun! It's still back there."

"You mean the one I gave you?"

"Yeah, it uh....got dropped in the fight." Rudra laughed awkwardly.

"Alright." Jay flipped his hand and flickered.

Suddenly, there was a gun in his hands. Rudra's gun.

"How?"

"I live to please." Jay replied sarcastically as he opened a portal.

"Let's go."

_____________________

The extra chapter for 200 powerstones as promised!

Next extra chapter at 400 powerstones.

Donate your powerstones today!

Let's get to top ten!