God did not care

Site 108, surveillance room in the α office area.

In the dim room, Dai Yong'an frowned at the images on the surveillance monitors, his right hand unconsciously tapping the desk over and over. He lifted his coffee cup again, only to find it had long since been emptied.

Events had unfolded far beyond Dai Yong'an's expectations.

In the experiment proposal he had submitted, he had stipulated that verifying any anomaly involving probability manipulation or causal interference in D-87465 required creating an environment that was relatively extreme for the subject.

Observing and recording low-probability events involving D-87465 was the most direct and effective way to prove the anomaly existed.

In his original conception, the experiment could have only three possible outcomes:

The first possibility: his hypothesis was wrong, and D-87465 was simply lucky. In that case, D-87465 would die in the containment chamber during this high-risk experiment.

The second possibility: his hypothesis was correct, and D-87465 would once again survive the experiment through some incredible means. That would provide compelling evidence for his theory and bring the experiment to a perfect conclusion.

As for the third possibility...

"Doctor! We have a new development!"

The containment team leader's distinctly trembling voice came through his headset:

"We've detected Akiva radiation! Its intensity has already exceeded 4.203 × 10³ Ak..."

"This isn't an ordinary anomalous entity at all! It's beyond even the scope of a typical divine entity!"

Akiva radiation was a descriptive term the Containment Facility reserved for the most dangerous anomalies.

Compared with the Hume Index and EVE energy particles, which generally still followed discernible patterns, Akiva radiation was more akin to energy released as a "concept" overwrote "rules."

This radiation was extremely difficult to observe. Even though Dai Yong'an had prepared for it, he had only now detected the first signs.

The subjects described by Akiva radiation went by many names among different organizations and individuals-"gods," "divine entities," "type blacks," "thaumaturges," "those favored by gods," and "divine emissaries."

In the Containment Facility's official terminology, however, they were collectively known as "apex-tier pluripotent entities."

Dai Yong'an sprang to his feet and stared fixedly at the surveillance monitors.

On the screen, the humanoid monster composed of revolting tentacles and slime suddenly quickened its advance.

The tentacles covering its body abruptly contracted, then erupted outward like exploding fireworks, effortlessly piercing the corridor walls. One after another, the images on the surveillance monitors were swallowed by static.

"Keep reporting!" Veins bulged at Dai Yong'an's temples.

But no response came through the headset, only abruptly cut-off screams and the thunder of collapsing structures, soon replaced by shrill electrical noise.

Dai Yong'an took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

The third possibility... the one he least wanted to see...

D-87465 had indeed obtained power from SCP-239 through some means...

But that power should never have been this strong, even approaching SCP-239's own. Given Alice's understanding, she could never have bestowed such a twisted, insane blessing upon D-87465.

There was a basic logic even an ordinary person could understand: no god's gift to a mortal could bring its recipient close to the god itself.

Cold sweat poured off Dai Yong'an.

An experiment designed for only three possible outcomes had somehow produced a fourth...

Once all known options were eliminated, only one answer remained-D-87465 had been divine all along!

"No..." Dai Yong'an's eyes lost focus as he muttered, "I couldn't have made an oversight like this... when was it? When did the influence begin..."

In the ten years since joining the Containment Facility, he had worked conscientiously and tirelessly. His almost obsessive thirst for knowledge gave him an inexhaustible supply of energy, allowing him to keep working under pressure ordinary people could scarcely imagine.

With his antisocial personality, he stopped at nothing in his experiments, often even staking his own life. In many people's eyes, he was an absolute madman. Yet that was precisely why he had achieved things others could never hope to match.

To Dai Yong'an, if gods truly existed, then he must have been a favored child of the god of knowledge and fortune.

Yet at this very moment, the judgment he took such pride in was being shaken.

Along with his pride, the entire Site shook.

Amid violent tremors, the whole building seemed on the verge of collapse. The ceiling lights swayed back and forth, while rubble and dust kept falling from overhead.

Dai Yong'an staggered toward the surveillance room door, flashing red alarm lights casting his pale face alternately into light and shadow. Struggling to keep his balance, he grasped the door handle, which had already begun to warp, and tried with all his strength to pull the crooked metal door open.

At last, with a shriek of grinding metal, he kicked the completely ruined doorframe aside.

But the next instant, a savage, blood-soaked figure burst through the ceiling and landed heavily in front of him, smashing a huge crater into the sturdy floor.

This was a hideous Demon Beast covered in dark red tentacles. Although Zhou Ze's features could still be faintly discerned in the monster's face, he had almost completely lost all human characteristics.

His skin was a sickly gray-white, covered in winding black markings. His eyes were sunken deep in their sockets, his pupils dilated so far that almost none of the whites remained visible.

The expression on that face was a mixture of pure madness and brutality. There was not a trace of humanity, only a primal, almost bestial frenzy. His gaze locked firmly onto Dai Yong'an, filled with indescribable malice and hunger.

Dai Yong'an stared at the demon-god-like figure, his right hand tightly gripping something in his pocket, and opened his mouth to speak.

Squelch...

A thick tentacle shot through his chest like lightning, pierced his heart, and impaled him before hoisting him high into the air. Blood gushed from the wound like a fountain, tracing a horrifying arc through the air.

Dai Yong'an's vision went black. The agony instantly robbed him of control over his body.

He could feel his life rapidly draining through his punctured chest like fine sand through an hourglass.

As he lay dying, memories flickered before his eyes like a revolving lantern. He remembered raising his hand in class as a child:

"Teacher, if we live in a giant's dream, what will happen to us when the giant wakes up?"

Dai Yong'an was not afraid to die, but there were still too many unknowns he wanted to explore, too many things he cared about...

But God did not care.

With a teeth-grating sound of tearing flesh, Dai Yong'an's body was ripped in half. Flesh, organs, and shattered bone sprayed through the air, staining the entire corridor crimson.

At almost the exact instant Dai Yong'an's heart stopped beating, the hideous monster froze in place.

Moments later, the revolting, writhing tentacles drooped limply, and the monster's body began to dissolve and collapse like a mass of sludge.

But immediately afterward, an indescribable, shudder-inducing force enveloped the rotten flesh and rapidly drew it together, as though some terrifying presence was about to awaken within that mass of flesh and blood...

Outside Site 108, the previously clear sky was suddenly swallowed by thick black clouds. Fierce winds rose with a howl, as though they were wails from hell. Lightning danced wildly through the clouds, tearing the sky into a thousand ragged holes.

The earth began to quake violently, and the entire world seemed to tremble at the presence about to be born...