Mes nuits sont blanches, mes idées noires.

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The man walked down the street, a passion in his step had rarely had with anything else. Last night he had made an important decision, and he found himself invigorated by it.

He turned to a normal-looking building, something that you wouldn't go to unless you had business there. Of course, it betrayed what laid inside.

A place of redemption, where one could shed their evil imperfections for a higher calling, an all-knowing and all-accepting god. A god who taught how to rise above the evil and brokenness of flesh. It was at this place where the man had found purpose almost two years ago, had found his reason to continue living.

Yes, from an outside perspective, the man had everything. Power, wealth, influence, a picture-perfect family. But those things were so empty to him, so pointless. Whatever power or influence he had gained outside of this place was nothing compared to what his god could offer. He loved his family, but at this point, he felt that he was the only one who felt their relationship to be that of a . . . well, genuine family. His daughters were constantly at each other's throats, no matter how much they tried to hide it from him, and his wife was all-manipulating, driven by the shallow pursuit of earthly success and fulfillment.

But he knew better. He could not blame them for their ignorance, he had been ordered to keep his religion secret from them, for the good of the Church. But he was here to show them a better way, the true path. The path that his god had broken himself to lay for them.

As he entered the building, he saw a truly magnificent being conversing with fellow believers such as himself. The man felt himself swell with joy and pride as he looked onto this vision of what he could be. What, in his mind, perfection looked like.

The being turned, now noticing the man who had stepped in.

"Mr. Yukinoshita, what a surprise." The large figure said with a surprised smile on his face, dismissing the two other followers he had been conversing with before.

Being a politician, Yukinoshita Hitori was used to dealing with people when they had something of a facade up. It was necessary when dealing with large amounts of people or another politician, there was always something underneath the layer. He had prided himself on knowing who was putting up a front, even if he had never been the best at determining what was underneath it. As he progressed in the world of politics, he noticed that the more power an individual had, the more of a masquerade they were playing. Even if Hitori knew that this man knew where he was every second of every day, even his surprise was genuine for some reason. After all, there was very little His Holiness did not know.

He had never before dealt with someone with so much true power, and so truly genuine in nature, as His Holiness Edward Bumaro. As expected of a priest for the Broken God.

"Your Holiness, please pardon my intrusion," Hitori said, his native accent thickly present in the foreign tongue He bowed to the man, out of respect for him, even if they did not share cultures. Yukinoshita Hitori would not bow to anyone else. "I was hoping to speak with you regarding-"

"Just a moment, Hitori," Edward interrupted, turning from him. "To my study."

Hitori did not hesitate in following the man. He never did. For the last two years, he had followed this Church. He had not known when his mind had turned towards their god, but it had. Their ways, their teachings, it was all . . . well, it was unarguable logic. He had seen too much, he knew too much, to even begin to doubt the existence of Mekhane. Even when he had to loosen his hold on the politics of the ignorant world outside the Broken Church to follow Edward's teachings, he had no doubts in his mind, despite his wife's many objections.

He had already undergone his first Ascension a month ago, which replaced his limbs with metal augmentations that could perform numerous things. His hands could take on the appearance of actual skin, to keep his public image safe, and they were more than combat-ready. The fact that they had some kind of power source that he could not see, find, nor explain the origins of only strengthened the belief in his god. Unfortunately, to believe in his god was the accept the existence of another, but he wouldn't focus on that right now.

As they entered Edward's study, the light of the setting sun that fell through the window fell onto the figure, highlighting the complete metal body of His Holiness. This, Hitori knew, was true perfection could look like. A body and being of pure intellect, having cast aside the almost animistic nature of humanity. The body flowed with the complete natural movement of flesh while reflecting what true perfection could look like. A testament to Mekhane, the true god. Something that Hitori aspired to reach with his Final Ascension, exactly eight years from now should he stay on the path, and a little over ten years for his family to join him should this talk with His Holiness go well.

Along the walls, their teachings lined up to put the values of Mekhane on full display. Technology advanced decades, possibly centuries, ahead of the general public, that they would most likely never see in their full glory, and if they did these machines would already be advanced even further towards perfection, working to rebuild the body of their god. The clean white tiles of the floor matched perfectly with the color of the walls, ceiling, even the furniture. It was simple and efficient, and the organized state of the room allowed for creativity to flow while studying the words of their "bible" or working to find another piece of their god.

"So, Mr. Yukinoshita," the figure said, sitting down in the large chair behind a desk, with stacks of small machines neatly placed all over in perfect order. Hitori would often reflect on the fact that had he chosen to stray from the path of the Broken God, that he would never experience technology advanced as this. Watching His Holiness, he was forced to stand across from him, seeing as there was no furniture placed in a way that would allow comfortable conversation. "Of what issue brings you to my company?"

Despite his inhuman appearance, Edward Bumaro was one of the most "human" beings he had ever met, in the ways that it counted at least. Done away with the most useless of moralities of the ill-informed population, a true follower of Mekhane, he still had the necessary emotions for life and humanity. He was perhaps more human than any standard human he had ever met.

"It's with regards to my family, your Holiness-"

"Please, Mr. Bumaro will do. 'Your Holiness' reminds me too much of my father."

". . . Mr. Bumaro, I wish to inform my family of the Church." Hitori, like every follower of Mekhane, appreciated preciseness.

". . . Hmm . . . yes, I see. They do not know you are here?"

"No, I had told them I was meeting with a foreign politician for trade negotiation." He did not enjoy lying. To lie was to deny someone intellect, something he felt was against the very nature of his Broken God. Still, it was a firm argument on his part, and he had announced it the day before his departure at a dinner meeting with other members of the diet. His daughter Yukino did not care, his other daughter Haruno was busy elsewhere at the time, and while he could not trick his wife, she was held back by the present company from confronting him on the true nature of his visit. She must suspect me to be disloyal. I am nothing if that.

"Hm, I would have thought you had already informed them . . . Well, if you believe it so, then do as you wish."

". . ." Already informed them? What had His Holiness meant by that? And to agree so easily as well. He had assumed there would be some great back-and-forth about the meaning of the Church, their goal, and Mekhane's great gift to the world.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Yukinoshita?"

"N-No, Mr. Bumaro, but . . . I was under the assumption we were still operating under the 'absolute secrecy' rule."

"Well, yes, we are. You see, we've been operating under that rule towards the general public because of our arrangement with the SCP Foundation," Hitori shivered a bit at the mention of that name."But that applied to the general public. When it comes to people with direct relations to those in the Church, exceptions can be made. Not to mention, every day we grow closer to that day, and we need numbers on our side."

"Yes, it's just . . . I thought there would be a lot more of an argument."

"Why would I ever act in a way to lead people away from Mekhane? Of course, there are those instances, but-"

"Instances?"

"Where someone invited rejects the teachings of the Broken Church. Of course, before the arrangement with the Foundation, this wasn't a problem, but being forced to keep our true nature hidden leads to . . . well, unsavory consequences would not do it justice. If you truly wish for your family to adopt the faith, you must be certain they are ready for it." The mechanical man looked down on Hitori with sympathy in his glowing eyes, and Hitori nodded in understanding. He had the absolute belief that his family would see the truth that Mekhane offered. That one could reach perfection through technology and intellect. That flesh and life, in default, was evil and broken, and through Mekhane and his ways, they could become whole again.

"Of course, Mr. Bumaro, I do not doubt that they'll be ready to accept Mekhane-"

"You never considered the possibility that they may refuse the path of our religion, have you?"

". . ." Hitori could only respond to His Holiness with stunned silence. What in the world was being insinuated? That he was stupid, or that he did not know his own family?

"Before you start, I meant no insult in my words. I know of your absolute conviction in Mekhane, but I do not have to remind you that there are people that do not hold that conviction. They are still human, and thus are unpredictable and broken in nature. Even if it is the truth, they may twist it into a lie, or refuse to see it immediately. Our way of life is a drastic change from what they are living now. You cannot ignore the chances of rejection, no matter how minuscule you believe them to be."

". . . I see . . . in truth, I have no reason to doubt that they would accept Mekhane, but as you said they are indeed unpredictable in nature."

"Yes. If they were to reject, the most favorable outcome would be to erase their memory of ever finding out. That is the most favorable outcome. We are still under an agreement with the SCP foundation. If they were to find out that there are people out there with knowledge of 'the anomalous,' who knows what actions they would take, and per the conditions of our agreement, I would not be able to step in."

". . ." Hitori was silent now. He had walked into this building, something akin to a chapel for the followers of the Broken Church, with absolute confidence and conviction. Now he saw that it was just foolish human pride and arrogance to believe he could predict something as irrational as human behavior. Of course, His Holiness was not telling him that he should not inform his family of his religion and the truth behind it, only to be cautious of the consequences behind it. Hitori had thought he had abandoned his foolish emotions, but once again they had clouded his judgment.

Although even considering this, he could not help but feel anger at the Jailors, as he likes to call those under the employ of the Foundation. Everyone, Mekhanite or not referred to them as such. Simply grabbing up and jailing anything that would affect the qualities of "normalcy" that held back almost every single human on this planet. Forced ignorance was in his mind one of the gravest sins against Mekhane one could commit. He was the god of metal, technology, and intellect. To deprive one of intellect would be to hurt Mekhane directly, and the Jailors did more of that than even the G.O.C.

"Speaking of the Foundation, there is something I must speak with you on while I have you. I was going to call you later today, but since you've taken it upon yourself to visit, I should get it out of the way."

"Concerning the Foundation?" What could those Jailors want with him? Certainly, the Church didn't agree to have him help them directly, it was bad enough they were forced to associate with them in the first place.

"Yes. You are not apart of the council, but I am telling you this because of the respect I have for you and your actions within the Church, and the information I have just received affects you directly." Hitori was silent, secretly enjoying the words of praise from His Holiness, one of the few Ascended. "About eight months ago, your daughter's clubmate, Hachiman Hikigaya, was reported as missing correct." Hitori blinked, taken aback by the sudden statement.

". . . That is correct. But, with all due respect your Holiness, I do not believe I informed you of that."

"You did not need to. You are a member of the Church, and therefore I am aware of every happening that affects you. Knowledge is a sure path to perfection." Hitori nodded, his troubles put at ease with a few words. "I am reminding you of that because, about a week ago, one of the SCP sites near England was reported destroyed. According to them, it was almost instantaneous, with very few of their captives surviving."

"And Hikigaya Hachiman is in some way related?" Hitori said. Edward blinked.

"I thought his first name was . . . ah, cultural difference. My apologies. I've been ignoring those trivial things since my Ascension. Yes, he is. They told me he was one of the few beings they had 'housed' there to survive, and he is currently missing with several other items of interest to them."

"He was housed there? So he must have had some super-natural properties then."

"Yes. They said they discovered him around that time and immediately contained him."

"I see . . ." He would have to process that information later. Right now, he would need to focus on one of the few conversations he had with his Holiness. "So, you believe he is returning to Chiba, then?"

"Yes, it is the only logical option for him as far as I am aware. Unfortunately, they would not relent any more information other than he can suppress anomalous abilities within an area around him."

Hitori was silent for a moment. Why tell him all this? There had to be a logical reason, His Holiness did not act without one.

"So because he was close to my daughter, you believe his return would threaten our arrangement with the Foundation in some way, is that it?"

"Yes. You see, the Foundation has given me some troubling information. They do not reveal much about their operations, but the object classes are something that is basic information. You see, they gave him two object classes-"

"Two?" Hitori was not quite sure what that implied.

"Indeed, you can imagine my surprise. Usually, the Foundation likes to keep things efficient. But, he's described as a Thaumiel and Euclid. Meaning he was being used to contain something as well as being contained himself."

"So, what does this mean for me?" There was a moment of silence as glints passed through Edward Bumaro's eyes before His Holiness spoke again.

"I don't know."

That one sentence was so simple, so harmless in nature. And yet, it spoke volumes from the man across from him, who wore a sympathetic smile. Yukinoshita Hitori could be in danger, or he could gain an ally. He could lose everything, or nothing could come of it. All he knew was Hikigaya Hachiman was coming, and he couldn't stop him from doing so.

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It is believed that on December 31st, 2019, an apocalyptic outbreak of a disease concocted by
the followers of Yaldabaoth, the one who He broke His body to imprison for
the sake of mankind will threaten the world.

Today is September 14th

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The Maker of Machines versus The God of Flesh Saga

Chapter 1: The Broken God

"Aaaaaaaand, there!" Lucy said as the truck started with a roar.

As it turned out, she did know how to hot-wire a car. Imagine that. He didn't expect that from her, he was just hoping that they would find a spare set of keys in the glove box or something.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" Hachiman asked as she stepped out of the driver seat.

"Movies. Some things are exaggerated, of course, but you never know what useful information you might get." She said.

"So these people had no problem showing you a movie you could have possibly used to escape," He questioned.

". . . I had no reason to escape before. In fact, I had every reason to stay. But now, I can be free." She said, a slight ting of hope in her voice.

". . . Right." He said tactlessly. "Let's just get on the road."

"Of course," She said, not moving from her standing position

"You don't know how to drive, do you?" He asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, that's not a skill you can learn from movies, so . . . no." Hachiman sighed.

"Well, I guess I'll have to do it. First time for everything, right?" He stepped around her and sitting in the driver seat.

Looking around the truck, there wasn't much in there. There were no markings of any kind, not even on the buttons. How was he supposed to figure out how to work the radio, much less drive this thing? He reached around the cabin, opening compartments and looking for anything that might have been left here.

"What are you doing?" Lucy asked as she opened the passenger door and got in.

"Looking for . . . well, anything, really. Anything we can find out about what happened to that place," he gestured behind him, "or about this truck, or about the outside world, or about us. Right now, we're gonna be driving blind, so I'd like to get as much info as I can before heading off."

"Makes sense," she said, opening the glove box and began to rummage around, "I just don't know what you expect to . . . no . . ."

"Huh?" He said, turning to her. If he was a gambling man, he could have sworn she sounded angry just now. "What is it?"

"Nothing, just some trash." She said, holding a small package in her hands. She rolled down the window and made to throw the package out.

"Hey, now," He said, grabbing from her hand just as she was about to throw it out.

"Hey!" She yelled in protest.

"At least let me see it first before deciding it's garbage all on your own." He looked down at the package. It was a small-ish brown box, with duct tape wrapped around the ends. On the face were the words:

"Dr. Bright and 005. Please be gentle, Hothead~! Find me a real good body!

P.S., If there's a list attached to me, it's best to just ignore it. Thanks!

P.P.S., there's a letter for your companion, if she's with you of course."

". . . Dr. Bright?" Hachiman said out loud. That name sounded familiar for some reason. He could swear that he'd heard it somewhere before, though he couldn't put his finger on it. Next to him, Lucy made a sound of indignation.

"It's best to just leave that guy here." Lucy crossed her arms. "I don't feel like dealing with him ever again, thank you very much."

"Wait, there's a guy in here?" He said, turning the box around and studying the dimensions, figuring it was highly unlikely to contain a person.

"Sort of . . . *Sigh* You might as well open it now. Just don't touch the amulet in there, okay?" She said, sounding slightly defeated. He gave her a side-glance, before opening the box slowly.

Inside the box sat two items, placed neatly in a small mold. The first was an amulet, around 2 inches across, wrapped in so many layers of clear plastic that he could just barely make out the features of it. It seemed to be made from some gold material, with thirteen diamonds surrounding an oval-shaped ruby in the center of the amulet, and a bronze chain was connected at the top. Next to it was a bronze key, about the same size as the amulet, that looked like it had been made 80 years ago, wrapped in a small layer of plastic. On the sides of the box were two pieces of paper that were taped to the sides. He took them out and unfolded them, reading each one after the other.

"SCP-005; a brief description. SCP-005 has the unique ability to open any and all forms of lock, either mechanical or digital, with relative ease. The origin of this ability has yet to be determined. Minimal containment is necessary.

SCP-963; a brief description. Any living anthropoid that comes into direct skin contact with the amulet has their mind-wiped, and the mind of Dr. Bright is projected from the amulet onto the subject. It is known that memories native to Dr. Bright transfer from host to host. After the amulet is removed, all higher brain functions in the subject cease until it is returned. Should the amulet remain on a subject for more than 30 days, the subject copies the brain functions of Dr. Bright and retains an independent copy of the consciousness of D. Bright after the amulet is removed. When Dr. Bright is possessing a subject, the amulet should remain completely visible. When not attached to a host, minimal containment necessary."

Hachiman finished reading, closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath.

"Of course these would be in here," He said, opening his eyes. "I guess you have a history with this 'Dr. Bright' guy?"

"I've interacted with 'him' a couple of times," she said. "Three in total, every time it was someone completely different, wearing that amulet, calling themselves Dr. Bright. Nothing bad happened to me, he was just . . . extremely weird."

"How's that?"

"He once told me, while in the body of a female doctor, that he was not automatically attracted to me, but he simply chose to be. I was glad he wasn't . . . trying anything with me, but it was still not a very pleasant thing to say."

". . . Yeah, I guess that's kind of weird." Hachiman said. He liked being him and didn't want to take the chance that this wasn't bullshit. It probably was, but he wasn't about to find out if it wasn't. "So, I guess he's the one who put this stuff here?" He said, pulling out a semi-thick folded packet, with the bolded label "The Things Dr. Bright Is Not Allowed To Do" with the words "At The Foundation" crossed out.

"It looks like it. If he's behind it, then this could be either extremely dangerous. Or it could just be Bright being himself." She said as Hachiman shuffled around the box.

"He did mention you on top of the box, but I'm not seeing any letter or anything."

"If it's from Bright, I think it's best if I don't read it."

"Well, maybe it has a clue as to what we're supposed to do now," he said, pulling up the plastic mold, careful not to touch any of the metallic objects. Underneath it was a piece of lined-paper, that looked like it had been touched and ruffed up multiple times but just barely held on. He pulled it out carefully. "I think I found it."

"You can read that, the last thing I want is anything to do with Bright," she said, opening her Bible. Hachiman looked at her out of the corner of his eye, before turning back to the piece of paper in his hand, the writing slightly visible through the paper.

Maybe he shouldn't read this thing. After all, this was meant for her. What if it had some personal stuff that he wasn't supposed to see? Or what if this "Dr. Bright" was as weird as she made him out to be and there was some stuff like that in this? But then again, he needed as much information as possible, and he had gotten her permission to read it already. Eh, what did he have to lose?

"Dear Epon,

I hope you're doing well. As well as one can be in your situation, at least. This is the second time I've written to you, only to tell you that I've finally gotten you your freedom, and made plans to keep it that way. With you is, while a very strange man, someone who can help you. He'll be very confused at times, so you'll have to help him to survive. With him, you'll be completely safe, safer than anything I ever attempted. As long as you two keep your heads down and stay away from anything . . . like yourselves, you should go completely unnoticed.

I know you'll be horrified with me over what I've done, and horrified with yourself. Know that this was going to happen regardless of my motives. The deaths of everything and everyone at this site is on my head, but you were in no part responsible for the making of it. I was planning this long before I knew you existed. But I could not let you die alongside everything else.

I do not know how you two will get along, and I hate that I have to put your future in the hands of someone else, but it can't be helped. If you're reading this, it means I won't be able to help you anymore. I was there when you turned sixteen. I wish, with all my heart, that I could have reached out to you, to let you know that your father loved you, but they wouldn't let me. I don't know how old you'll be when you finally get this letter. As soon as I finish writing this, a plan will be set in motion, starting with my suicide.

There's so much I want to talk with you about face-to-face, but we'll never have the chance. You don't know how sorry I am about that.

I'm sorry I was never there for you. I'm sorry for the things you had to go through. I'm sorry I can't be there for you after this.

With all his love, your father,
Alto Clef

Hachiman folded the letter, a ping of guilt as he finished reading. He had read through it relatively fast, but this seemed like something way too personal for him to have read. Without a word, he held out the letter to Lucy.

"Hm? So is it from Bright?" She asked, staring warily at the letter.

"It's from your father." He said. He watched as her eyes slightly widened and her body tensed up. She did not respond, simply sitting there and staring at the paper in silence. After a moment, she took it from his hands and set it down on her bible.

She did not say anything for a long time, simply staring down at it. She must have been afraid of what the letter said, not knowing what could be written in it. Hachiman felt grimy, he had pushed himself into something that should have been just between father and daughter. Even if neither of them knew what was on it when he originally read it, it still felt wrong somehow.

Rather than say anything, Hachiman put the car into drive and took off down the gravel road, the distance between them and that place increasing more every second. In this extended silence, Hachiman's thoughts ran wild.

Dr. Bright and Lucy's father had put this whole thing into effect. Whatever there was before, whoever was there before, was dead. Clef had said as much himself. But why? If it wasn't to save his daughter, what was the motived behind killing everything here? Hachiman, with a cold feeling, realized that if Lucy hadn't been born . . .

I would be dead right now. The only reason I'm alive is that her dad thought I could keep her safe. That's a disturbing thought, but what does that mean for me? I have no obligation to her, but it's not like I can leave her. If she were left on her own . . . Even if that wasn't the case, she's gone this far with me. Her father wanted her to stay close to me, but why should we respect the wishes of a guy claiming responsibility for the deaths of who knows how many people? Why should I?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of soft sobbing. He glanced over at the blonde girl in the passenger seat, who was trying as hard as she could to keep her crying silent. Her body slightly shook as she stared down at the letter, her hands unsteadily holding it up. Hachiman looked away and focused on the road ahead of him.

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How long had he been driving?

Looking over to his left, he saw the sun was just halfway peeking over the horizon. It had been about noon when they found the truck, but he had no idea what time it was now. He couldn't read the freaking sun, after all. It had to have been a couple of hours either way.

Looking back at the road, he slumped back in his seat as he drove on, eyes set on the distance where the road would disappear around bends, behind trees, and over the horizon. How much ground was there left to cover? He didn't know, but he hoped that their end would come before the tank ran out. They had yet to come across any sign of human life, which Hachiman felt increasingly uneasy about.

If it turns out I'm imagining all this, I might end up jumping off a goddamn bridge. He thought to himself, then let out an audible sigh. To his left, Lucy had fallen asleep with the letter from her father clutched so tightly Hachiman thought she might accidentally tear it in two. She would occasionally move and make random sounds her sleep, one time speaking in such broken grammar that Hachiman thought she had started speaking another language altogether. He didn't mind tho, he would get some sleep later. He doubted that she could drive, so they would find someplace to stop so he could take a nap. He had the idea that they would find a hotel to sleep in, separate rooms of course, but they had no money.

With that out of the way, he started reflecting over the fact that he could drive. He had concluded that he was hallucinating this along with everything else, or he learned it in whatever life he lived before this. Which begged the question, who was he? What kind of person was he in the past. Looking at himself in the rear-view, his dead-fish eyes glared at him. He guessed he just had resting angry face, or his eyes were just that scary. Either way, he doubted he was very popular looking like this. Maybe he was a delinquent or something. He had to have lived some kind of hard life to look like this.

Even if he used to have a shitty life, it would at least be his life. Right now . . . he felt like a ghost.

". . . no . . ." Lucy whimpered in the seat next to him, the sheet crinkled as she shifted uncomfortably. She was probably having a nightmare of some sort, not that it was any of his business. She did just find out her dad died, so this should be a normal reaction.

What about him? Did he actually have a dad? "Totsuka" had said everything he saw was based on his memories, but he couldn't trust them nor that . . . he guessed it was an A.I. Maybe he would stick to calling him "Totsuka," but if that boy actually existed he would have to find another name.

Should he really be focusing on himself right now? Lucy had bigger problems to deal with right now, maybe he should be focusing on her.

Why did he not know what to do about anything? Why was his whole existence a mess right now? He had no direction, no purpose in doing anything other than surviving. He felt . . . empty, honestly.

Like a ghost.

He internally chuckled. That was the second time he's referred to himself as dead within this minute alone. Geez, he was so depressing.

". . . no, stop . . . stop touching me . . ." Lucy whimpered, moving even more restlessly. Hachiman glanced over at her with a concerned eye. He didn't know exactly what her nightmare was about, but he had a pretty good guess. ". . . please, don't . . . stop . . ." Her empty pleads had gotten louder.

Hachiman felt his grip tighten against the steering wheel. This reality really was a piece of shit, wasn't it? Eventually, she stopped speaking altogether and began crying in her sleep. Hachiman hated that he had no idea how to help her. He had no hold on his own sense of reality, how was he supposed to help her with her feelings? Anything he could think of would just cause more harm than good.

Suddenly, Hachiman spotted a pair of headlights coming down the road in his direction.

Another car? Maybe I'm heading in the right direction. Or they might be someone unpleasant, in which case I'm heading in the wrong direction. He thought as the headlights got closer. Huh, they're moving pretty fast. I guess you can speed on a backroad like-

The headlight suddenly shifted towards him.

He stopped thinking as he swerved out of instinct. He could hear the rip of metal as the other car scraped his side, apparently swerving to his lane a second before he had. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he floored the gas, taking off in the same direction he was going before.

"Unpleasant, definitely unpleasant!" He yelled.

"What's going on?!" Lucy screamed hoarsely, Hachiman's sudden maneuver waking her up.

"I don't know!" He yelled back, looking behind him. The headlight seemed to cross themselves, as if they were two separate things facing each other, before turning to his car and speeding back up. "Someone's after us, though!"

"They found us?!" She said with terror thick in her voice.

"They're catching up! Jesus, they're fast!"

"Don't say his name in vain!" She said, only half-listening to what he had said.

"Really?! Now?!"

The car was catching up with them, even though he was pushing 100. He prepared for them to ram him in the back, only for the impact to never come. He looked in the rearview to see that they weren't behind him, but he could still see the shine from the headlights on each side of his cars.

Motorcycles? If they're coming up the side, they might have a gun or something. I'll just ram them from the side- . . . what the fuck? Whatthefuckwhathefuckwhatthefuck-

On each side of the car were things that resembled dinosaurs (probably velociraptors), save the intense light that shined from there head. Though it wasn't so intense he that he couldn't see their brains, wrapped in a web of glowing organs. The rest of their body was pitch black, only visible because of the lights on their head and the setting sun. Their legs were like blurs underneath their bodies, large tails swishing away and child-like hands held close to themselves.

Hachiman was mesmerized by the sight for a moment, before the car was suddenly shoved to their left, the passenger window shattering in an explosion of glass.

"AAAH!" Lucy screamed as Hachiman pulled to the right to steady the car. Looking over, he saw that the monster had backed away, and its light was blinking. On instinct, he slammed the brake. The monster that was on the side flew past the front of the car, slamming into its partner, sending them both tumbling into the thick forest to their right. Hachiman slammed on the brake once again, shooting forward to put as much distance between them and those . . . things as possible.

"What was that?!" Lucy screamed hysterically.

"I don't know, just calm down, all right!" He said, pushing on the gas once again. He took off, although the acceleration in this thing wasn't as good as he would have liked.

He was speeding down the back road, trying to keep the truck from flipping over while not slowing down. He could see the flashes of light behind him, a sure sign those things had recovered and were already back on his tail. What to do, what to do?

I could go through the woods, try to stay close to the trees so they can't get beside me, but I can't risk crashing. Besides, they'd just stay behind me and catch up the moment the woods ended. They're too fast for me to lose, and we don't have any kind of weapon to fight back with. Think, Hachiman, think. Shit, I got nothing!

On his side, he could see the light brighten as that thing got closer. He hit the brake, letting the thing fly past him. The monster swung something against the car door before it skidded past (Hachiman wasn't sure what), and it impacted with the window, destroying the glass. He turned his head to the side as the shards cut the left side of his face.

Fuck fuck fuck, this hurts! He thought, turning back to the road. He let off the brake and sped up again, ramming the thing with the hood of his car.

It was tossed to the side with a pained screech as Hachiman sped off, its partner still on their tail. He hoped that was enough to at least wound that one thing, but he had to focus on this one right now. He kept one eye open as he felt a warm liquid trickle down over his other, keeping him from seeing out of that one.

Damn it, I hope it isn't my eye that's wounded.

"Hachiman!" Lucy called out. Barely glancing at her, he saw that she was petrified, holding a handle on the ceiling in a death grip.

"What is it?!" He yelled back.

"Hachiman!" She yelled again. She's so scared she's not thinking straight. Damn it, this is bad.

"We're going to be fine, okay?! So just calm-" He was interrupted as the monster threw itself against the side of the car, shoving it to the left. Its right side was raised about an inch off the ground for a second, and as soon as it touched the road again Hachiman had to swerve to avoid impact with an oncoming tree. The monster had fallen behind them now, and looking in the rearview he could see the other one running back up to meet its companion.

Damn it, these things don't give up! He thought, focusing back on the road. He could see nothing but dense forest all around them.

He came around a bend and saw that there was a railing that separated the road from a steep hill, that looked like almost a cliff. The sharpness of the turn slightly lifted the truck off balance, and at the same time, both of those monsters hit the side of the truck, pushing it on its side and over the railing.

"SHIT!" Hachiman yelled as the truck started a rolling descent down the hill. Glass and pieces of metal broke off as the truck hit the ground multiple times, rocks and dirt making its way into the cabin through the broken windows. Hachiman and Lucy were flung around as much as their seatbelts would allow.

Hachiman felt his chest bruise and cuts appearing all over his face and exposed skin, trying desperately to hold on to the steering wheel. It occurred to him that Lucy had nothing to hold onto.

The truck came to a resting stop at the bottom of the hill, the passenger side held up against a tree. Hachiman's whole body felt as if it was on fire, pain shooting up and down his chest from the bruising, bleeding from multiple places on his face and neck. He looked over at the blonde girl in the passenger seat. Overall, she looked like she was in pain, but had at least gotten off better than him. If there weren't any internal injuries. She was breathing laboriously with half-lidded eyes, just barely moving as she took in shaky air.

"Hey, are you feeling all right?" He asked her. She was silent, but nodded, seeming to slowly accumulate her strength. "Do you think you can walk?"

". . . But . . . those things . . ." She whispered.

"They're gonna rip through this thing like nothing. We're not safe here, we need to keep moving." He told her. She did not answer, preferring to nod in acknowledgment again. "Can you walk?" He asked again.

"I . . . I think so."

"Okay," he looked out his broken window with his one good eye. There seemed to be no sign of the headlight creatures he had seen before. "I'm going to get out. After that, you try climbing over and following me, okay?" She nodded.

He shakily took off his seatbelt, fighting the urge to grunt as the pressure was lifted off his chest. Opening the door, he stepped out shakily, the impact from the ground encompassing his legs in a tingling sensation. He stepped away from the door and looked back as Lucy was taking off her seatbelt.

"Skreee," He heard from someplace behind him. Thinking quickly, he locked the door and slammed it shut. As the door closed, he felt a sudden pressure hit his side, and he flew in that same direction. It took a second for the pain in his body to fully register.

He skidded against the ground, grunting with each impact before he slammed violently against a tree, and came to a stop. He laid with his back on the ground, shaking in pure pain as he bled extensively. He opened his one good eye to see that one of the monsters had its light on him, slowly stalking closer each second. Behind it, the other one was scratching at the handle on the door with its child-like hand, trying to get it open, staring at Lucy as she sat in complete terror.

Damn, do something! He yelled at himself internally. He gathered what little energy he had left to push himself up to his knees. He looked up at the monster, who had lowered itself into an ambush stance.

This thing is going to kill me, they're going to kill both of us if I don't . . . do something. But . . . I'm so tired. What can I do now? I'm bleeding so much, I can barely move. I can't fight this thing. I can't protect her, I can't protect myself. I'm so fucking useless!

Useless.

Coward.

Hachiman.

Did he just use his own name as an insult? Where the hell did that come from? Wait, why was he worrying about that right now?

.

"Is this all you're good for? Letting people die?"

.

The familiar voice said in his head. Was it his own, or some else's? Great, just as he was about to die he was hallucinating. He was crazy after all.

.

"I don't care what you've gone through, and these people certainly don't, seeing as they're dead now." He said it with an unapologetic tone. "Remind me, who's fault was that? All those petty insignificant problems you keep blaming for all your faults? Which one was it, was it the middle-school rejection or the high-school bullies that made you ignore these people? No, it was all you. Make all the excuses you want. You might be scared to die, that's natural, but if you had died trying, you would have at least tried. Now you get to live with the knowledge that you, and you alone, let innocent people die. Nothing you can do about it now.

It's disappointing, H. There's so much potential in you, so many people you could save. Tell me, has the selfishness you justify with this childish pain brought you anything other than death?"

"Don't downplay what I've been through, and don't hold me up to your standards. I can't do this . . . I'm not a soldier, I can't handle this . . . I'm not some immortal alligator, I'm not some reality-bending god, I'm not you. I'm just, just a kid! I can't-"

"You keep talking, but all I hear are excuses. Reality is a battlefield we all have to fight in. You got dealt a bad hand, but I've seen people with worse manage a lot better than this." He emphasized the last word with a gesture at the landscape surrounding them.

.

He could see the monster in front of him shift its body, as it got ready to pounce.

.

"We all go through our own hells. Do you know how I deal with mine? By the knowledge that with every form of pain I endure, someone else gets to live. Someone gets to keep their family, someone gets to keep their sanity, some of them even get to be happy. How is that any different from the 'social suicide' you were always going on about? You were able to put yourself through so much pain for people you thought didn't deserve it. So why couldn't you do it now?

I'm not saying that you should be okay with this kind of life. Our lives are akin to hell, and some of us have it worse than any reality-bending death god could ever do. But look out in front of you, at all those poor bastards, and tell me of which hell do you prefer. Doing nothing and living with this guilt, or putting yourself through that pain and danger, knowing no one else has to, that you're keeping them safe. That's the reason I do this, that's the reason I'm here.

What's yours?"

.

My reason? He thought to himself, watching the monster. What is my reason for doing all this? Why have I been trying to help this stranger? Why did I risk myself to save her, bring her along? No one does anything without expecting something in return. No one's a genuinely good person. Even a motive like that has a hint of selfishness in it. So why?

". . . I . . . won't lose to you . . ." He spoke out loud. The monster did not respond. ". . . I'm . . . stronger than this . . ."

But was he? Here he kneeled, bleeding and half-dead. What purpose did he have to fight this anymore?

"Getaway!" He heard a desperate scream come from the truck. Looking over, he saw that the other monster was tearing away at the metal door, a frantic Lucy desperately trying to get away but with nowhere to get to. She was going to die.

She was going to die and he wasn't doing anything.

She was going to die and he was giving up.

Was he just going to sit here and let her die like this?

". . . don't . . . don't you touch anyone . . . you hear me . . ." He growled. The monster ignored him, still tearing away. ". . . You're . . . not going to . . . hurt . . . anyone else . . . you bastards."

The monster pounced, rushing at him. Deep inside, he felt something loosen up, a surge of energy built up inside him.

.

"You can let it all get to you," Abel had told him. "You can let the pain rule you. But are you willing to let it have them?"

.

"I SAID BACK OFF!" He yelled, letting the energy loose from inside him. He swung his good arm and felt his fist connect with the face of the monster. A satisfying thud could be heard, and the monster was knocked back a few feet.

It started thrashing and flailing on the ground in immense pain, screaming its pathetic whimpers. Its companion stopped its assault on the door, turning to face its companion.

Hachiman stared at the monster as it thrashed around, attempting to save itself from what was currently consuming it at an excruciatingly slow pace.

". . . It's . . . on fire?" He thought out loud, watching the creature be slowly but surely consumed whole by the flames as it cried out in pain. He reasoned the flames were coming from somewhere, as there seemed to be a steady flow of it coming from . . .

His arm.

His arm was on fire.

The flames he was watching burn this monster alive were rapidly pulsing from his own hand, his entire left arm covered in it. He felt a slight sting up and down his arm, but other than that he would have no idea this was even happening.

Other than, of course, the sight and smell of his own burning flesh mingling with those of the monster currently dying in front of him. He willed something inside him to stop it, and sure enough, the flames subsided almost instantly. Looking at his hand, his skin had been charred a horrifying mix of red and black, as the fire had slightly barbecued him. He didn't have to worry about it for too long, though, as it seemed the wounds caused by the fire were healing at an unbelievable rate.

On the ground, the monster gave it's final few twitches before falling still, as the fire started to die out without a source to come from.

Hachiman looked up at the remaining monster, who stood still staring at him. It seemed not to know what to do without its companion, simply staring at the figure who had just slaughtered it. It seemed to take an assessment of the situation, before turning and running off.

Hachiman let out a deep breath of relief, feeling his adrenaline die down along with his pain tolerance.

Gotta make sure she's okay, he thought. He took a step forward . . .

And passed out.

Okay, so yes, Abel (SCP-076) makes an appearance here. He is extremely OOC because I think a take on a more heroic Able might be interesting.

SCP-745 official "monsters" in this chapter.