A cold hush fell across the room as the live broadcast footage displayed a surreal, impossible image: a ring of crushed ice, 1.7 ters in diater and 35 centiters thick, floated just 15 centiters behind the skull of SCP-2845—an unnatural, deer-shaped entity simply referred to as The Stag.
What made this more terrifying was that the ring hovered perfectly still, held in place by seven equally spaced spheres made of tallic hydrogen and tallic helium, each 15 centiters in diater. These spheres and the ring rotated together at a slow, thodical pace—1.6 revolutions per minute.
No one could explain how this being functioned, especially how it bore the massive antlers on its skull or how the ring was maintained. Gravity, physics, logic—none applied to the Stag.
Nick Fury stood in the darkened control room of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, his one good eye fixed on the screen. A knot tightened in his chest as he recalled the earlier encounter in SCP-1730. Back then, the Stag seed powerful—formidable even—but not a god.
Now, there was no denying it. This was not just a strong anomaly. It was a Supre Divine Entity.
The file continued playing.
> "SCP-2845 possesses the ability to instantly reconstruct matter. No matter is created or destroyed during the process."
> "The transford matter remains in its altered state regardless of environntal conditions. Temperature and pressure are irrelevant."
The room filled with a heavy silence as more details erged.
It could turn its surroundings into unnatural landscapes:
1. Giant sculptures of tallic hydrogen and helium shaped like otherworldly planets.
2. Entire lakes of liquid hydrogen and helium.
3. An altered atmosphere of hydrogen, helium, and ammonia.
4. And worst of all… creatures called SCP-2845-1.
The chat on the live stream went insane.
> "What the hell? It can just change matter like that??" "Is this magic? No—it's worse. It's like God is rewriting the rules of the world."
Across the globe, agents, civilians, and superheroes alike watched in grim disbelief.
This was not just a containnt problem. This was a threat to reality itself.
Nick Fury's jaw tightened as he watched the data flow across the screen. He read the line aloud, his voice grim:
> "SCP-2845 can project transformations across vast distances—up to ten kiloters. It doesn't avoid civilians. It simply transforms everything."
Then ca the detail that made even hardened S.H.I.E.L.D. agents flinch.
> "SCP-2845-1" instances are transford organisms. They are columns 2.4 ters tall, with yellow-green rubbery skin. They lack sensory organs and internal organs except for a brain that fills their entire interior.
> These creatures exhibit constant high brain activity and appear to communicate telepathically.
Even the most composed agents were disturbed now.
The idea that a god could casually transform living beings into mindless, psychic columns of flesh was sickening.
And it only got worse.
---
[November 27]: A cot labeled C/2018W3 is spotted.
[December 1]: Confird by observatories.
[December 16]: A fragnt breaks off the cot—traveling at 0.0018c, almost a fifth of a percent of light speed.
As this was revealed, a realization swept through the room.
The Stag… ca from the stars.
Nick Fury slamd his hand on the console. "Great," he muttered. "Earth's anomalies weren't enough—we've got extraterrestrial gods now."
All eyes returned to the screen.
> [December 17]: The cot debris is confird to be on a collision course with Earth. Estimated impact: December 21.
Efforts to stop it fail.
[December 21]: The object crashes into the Pacific Ocean.
160,000 to 190,000 people die in the storm surge on the first day.
That line hit everyone like a thunderclap.
Hundreds of thousands dead—before the Stag even arrived on land.
The live chat froze. Then:
> "This… This thing is death incarnate."
> "We're dood."
> "It hasn't even started and we're already losing."
Even Doctor Strange at Kamar-Taj fell silent. The Ancient One slowly exhaled, her eyes narrowed.
"This isn't like anything we've faced before. This is calculated, divine destruction."
---
[December 24]: SCP-2845 reaches the coast.
[December 25]: Civilian footage confirms its presence. The Foundation launches full containnt protocols. UN Task Force "Blue Alpha" joins the mission.
Mobile Task Forces Mu-9, Alpha-3, Gamma-4, Beta-7, and the elite Nu-7 are deployed.
Heavy casualties reported.
[December 26–29]: Four days of continuous bombardnt.
[December 30]: Information redacted. SCP-2845 is unimpeded for sixteen hours.
[December 31]: The Overseer Council officially declares a VK-class "Lifting the Curtain" event—the end of secrecy and the start of open divine crisis.
"WOODWORK" protocol is activated.
Tony Stark stared at the footage in disbelief.
"Four days of non-stop bombing and it didn't even flinch?"
He turned toward Colonel Rhodes. "Don't we have sothing—anything—stronger? Laser cannons? Energy weapons? Quantum tech?"
Rhodes shook his head. "Tony, the Foundation has those weapons. They tried everything. Even their most advanced tech couldn't scratch it."
Stark rembered the cybernetic warriors of the "Reincarnation Program." If they couldn't stop the Stag...
He looked back at the screen, silent for a mont.
"Is it really going to co down to that ritual…?" he whispered.
---
Finally, the world turned its hope to one person: Jas.
In the middle of a foggy valley, in the cold rain, Jas appeared.
He stood at the center of a solemn ritual circle, surrounded by mbers of various elite Mobile Task Forces. These included:
Gamma-4 – "Green Stags"
Beta-7 – "Maz Hatters"
Nu-7 – "Hamr Down"
And even the mysterious Samsara Squad, the best of the best.
They stood in complete silence, their eyes fixed on the distant Nevada Mountains—where the Stag was believed to be advancing.
Jas stood beside six individuals, each holding a unique musical instrunt: a flute, oboe, clarinet, French horn, timpani, and a bass drum.
These were not ordinary musicians.
They were D-class personnel, selected for a last-resort containnt ritual.
Their hands trembled, instrunts held tightly, expressions full of dread. They all knew what was coming.
The ritual would be their final act.
The mountain ahead was veiled in mist, the wind howled through the valley, and the rain fell harder.
Jas stood firm. His gaze didn't waver.
Protected by ard agents and surrounded by warriors, he was the final thread holding the hopes of humanity.
This wasn't just a battle of weapons anymore.
This was a battle of ritual, willpower, and human defiance against a god.
As the scene faded, the audience held their breath.
Everyone, from Tony Stark to the Ancient One, from Nick Fury to the watchers in Wakanda, knew the truth:
If Jas failed… humanity wouldn't get a second chance.
---
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