Rowan roused from a heavy stupor, his eyes opening to a haze of confusion.
He slowly surveyed his surroundings, finding himself within the confines of a lavish and unimaginably vast cathedral.
The architecture was nothing short of magnificent, capped by a gargantuan do of stained glass that allowed ethereal light to spill from the heavens, bathing the interior in a saintly luminescence.
The towering walls were covered in masterful reliefs depicting a multitude of epic scenes, filled with the visages of saints and celestial angels.
The sheer volu of the cathedral could only be described as boundless, with pews capable of seating thousands upon thousands of pilgrims and faithful.
Yet the most striking feature stood at the absolute center of this space, directly facing Rowan: a colossal humanoid statue reaching tens of ters into the air.
He was clad in golden armor, his right hand gripping a blazing sword wreathed in fire, while his left hand bore a massive lightning claw.
His gaze was resolute, projecting an aura of overwhelming, majestic power.
"Let think, wasn't my previous location supposed to be a safehouse within the city of Three Portlands?"
"Where in the warp have I been dumped now?"
He furrowed his brow in deep consternation.
Rowan, currently twenty-two years of age, was a transmigrator.
As a mber of that displaced legion, his landing zone had clearly not been as fortunate as his predecessors.
He had arrived in a highly lethal universe overflowing with anomalies: the world of the SCP Foundation.
However, after trembling in fear and confirming that he had not instantly died from the various forbidden cognitohazards filling his mind, Rowan had adopted a fatalistic acceptance.
He began to explore the anomalous world behind the Veil, mingling and interacting fervently with all manner of monsters, demons, and anomalous organizations.
Calculating the days, it had already been five years since his initial transmigration.
The experience and knowledge he had accumulated over these five years had fortified his ntal state trendously, allowing him to rapidly regain his composure even in the face of such a wildly anomalous encounter.
Exhaling a long breath, Rowan focused his mind and mobilized the power he was most intimately familiar with.
It was a power that could bend reality to his absolute whim.
This was his greatest reliance, the tool that allowed him to survive and mingle within a world plagued by dancing devils and chaotic horrors.
Rowan was a Reality Bender.
True to the na, it was a type of anomalous entity capable of altering and distorting reality through sheer perception and willpower.
This achieved an effect akin to wish-fulfillnt within a localized area.
Even in the Foundation universe, teeming with anomalous elites, such an entity was exceedingly rare and incredibly dangerous.
It was a universally acknowledged truth that once discovered, a Reality Bender would either spend the rest of their life in a Foundation containnt cell or be summarily executed by a Global Occult Coalition strike team.
For soone like Rowan to roam free for years without incident was a staggeringly rare exception.
"Oh, so I am dreaming."
Yet this was absolutely no ordinary dream, as Rowan could clearly sense the power constructing this dreamscape was profoundly anomalous.
Even as a Reality Bender, he was astonished to find that he could not exert any influence over this dream at all, whether he attempted to tear the dreamscape apart with his abilities or tried to manifest weapons for self-defense out of thin air.
Every effort ended in failure, as if this dream was sohow more stable than reality itself.
"Rowan, you have arrived."
A voice echoed forth, layered with heavy, cascading reverberations, sounding as though countless voices were simultaneously singing a holy choral hymn.
"Who goes there?"
Rowan slowly turned his head and watched as the cathedral's titanic doors, large enough to permit the passage of a land crawler, slowly swung open.
A solitary figure stepped inside from the beyond.
Appearing before Rowan's eyes was a beautiful youth with olive skin, long black hair cascading down to his waist, and a golden laurel wreath resting upon his head.
The youth was barefoot, draped in a white robe reminiscent of ancient Terran antiquity, with a simple grass rope tied around his waist.
Beyond this, he wore no other adornnts, his appearance perfectly summarized as austere.
Yet it was precisely this extre austerity that radiated an aura of pure, unadulterated divinity from head to toe, compelling a soul to beco intoxicated by its presence, making one feel as though looking away would be an act of utter heresy.
"Please forgive my mortal ignorance, my flawed eyes, and my shallow understanding."
Rowan bowed his head low, offering a gesture of profound respect, asking which divine god stood before him.
Since taking in the environnt of this cathedral, Rowan had rapidly scoured his mories, but tragically found absolutely nothing.
The anomalous religious organizations he knew of, such as the Church of the Broken God, the Sarkic Cults, or the Fifth Church, completely failed to match this cathedral or the youth standing before him.
The youth approached Rowan, his eyes serene and undisturbed by the slightest ripple of emotion.
"First of all, I am no god, rely an ordinary human from Terra."
"There is no need for such reverence, you need only address as Neoth."
"Are you kidding , friend?"
The corner of Rowan's eye twitched slightly.
"Do you have any idea that the intensity of the Akiva radiation radiating from your body is blinding my eyes, and now you are telling you are not a god?"
Akiva radiation of this magnitude was sothing Rowan had never even heard of.
He felt that even if the faith of the entire human population of Earth were combined and compared to the entity calling himself Neoth, it would be nothing but a single drop in the vast ocean.
Empowered by this staggering scale of faith, it was likely that every miracle recorded in human mythology could be effortlessly manifested by him.
And now, this entity was personally denying his own divinity, claiming he was not a god?
Was this so sort of new, deadpan joke?
"However, the strange thing is, why does that na sound sowhat familiar to ?"
Rowan frowned, taking another appraising look at the youth's attire.
"Speaking of which, this outfit also gives a sense of deja vu, like I have seen it sowhere before."
Just then, Neoth seed to sense sothing, and a flash of golden light flickered within his pupils.
Rowan froze for a mont.
"What was I just thinking about?"
He cursed himself internally for losing focus at a ti like this, gathering his concentration once more and tossing aside whatever thought he was on the verge of grasping.
"So, for what purpose have you pulled into this dreamscape today?"
Rowan cut straight to the point, explaining that although he was a Reality Bender, his power was only Level 2.
His personal Hu level, as well as the range and energy he could influence, were severely limited.
To the extent that if he were caught off guard, a single sniper bullet would be enough to claim his life.
"While I do not know your origins, judging by this dreamscape you have constructed, I should be of little consequence to you."
"If there is a task that even you cannot accomplish, then I am certainly powerless to help."
"You deny your own potential, Rowan."
The youth calling himself Neoth spoke with absolute tranquility, explaining that aside from his identity as a Reality Bender, Rowan harbored another anomalous phenonon.
"It is your greatest reliance, and it is what successfully helped you grow to this current stage."
"And my objective is exactly that."
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