Letting them know he was SCP 507 was a strategic play, and they'd hopefully recognize the traits of the flesh that hates in the body they found. Nobody sane would want to get close to that, expecially if they pieced together that he wouldn't be in this world long at all.
'Once they know I’m Tommy, they should just wait for me to shift back to my world. Easy peasy,' Michael figured, glancing out of a half-shattered window.
'But hey, people can be dumb, and the person walking up to the front of the church right now would definitely fit that description.'
Michael could sense him walking up before he actually saw him. His flesh felt different than any he’d felt before. It was hard to describe, but it he had to he’d call it ancient.
When he finally saw the man though, Michael cursed.
He was covered in arcane tattoos and had tanned, muscular skin. He had jet black hair that reached halfway down his back and a gait to him that spoke of confidence.
Michael had read this guy's file a while back, and immediately recognized the man to be Able. As in Able from the bible Able. Well, that's what he claimed at least.
“Goodmanit, why can’t it ever be easy? New plan boys!” Michael said, moving back from the window.
Michael quickly tossed a bandolier of grenades to one of his soldiers and relayed some simple instructions.
Instantly all of Michael's soldiers emerged out of their cover and began to open fire towards Able, as the soldier with the grenades sprinted through the door.
The tanned man reached into a pocket of space at a speed Michael could barely perceive and pulled out a large black sword. Several swings knocked many of the bullets from the air, but they worked as a good distraction. Giving ample time for the soldier to reach Able and release the pins to the grenades.
The explosion was massive, but Michael wasn’t watching at the moment. Instead he was carefully walking the Shy Guy to the doorway, before ripping the bag off its head and kicking it down the steps before quickly closing the door.
All of his men had already stopped looking out the windows and were currently heading towards the escape tunnel. The grenades would slow Able down, but it wouldn’t kill him. But besides that, Michael had made a deal with this world’s foundation, and he was willing to bet all eyes had been on the church.
'Fight smarter, not harder or whatever the phrase is.'
With that, Michael bravely ran into his escape tunnel.
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Able quickly stood back up, the explosion hadn’t hurt him much, but a steady stream of blood was stubbornly dripping down his forehead.
He smiled, this warrior was a smart one. Perhaps this flight would actually bring some challenge.
These thoughts rushed through his mind as he saw a pale creature falling down the front steps of the church as his adversary slammed the door closed behind it.
This warrior had looked similar to his acquaintance Tommy, albeit far more muscular and possessing more unique weapons than he should have. An apostle of Order who'd matured? That could be fun.
The crumpled pale figure’s crying was growing louder. Perhaps another one of those suicidal warriors the apostle seemed to use? Dealing with warriors that don’t have any intention of actually living through the encounter could be both saddening and exciting.
He studied this new warrior and was quickly unimpressed. It was pale and sickeningly thin. Its one redeeming feature was his height and even that was lackluster as it curled up on the ground.
A pathetic display. One he’d put a swift end to.
He charged towards the creature, more to end its clearly sad life than anything else.
Suddenly the device in his ear sounded, “Don’t look at it goddamnit!”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
But it was too late. The pale warrior’s scream increased in volume as Able charged.
He swung his sword down upon the creature, as it had just begun to sprint towards him and a resounding clash occurred as the pale man was sent flying.
However, despite the force behind it the cut the pale creature had taken seemed to heal almost instantly as it simply stood back up and sprinted towards Able, screaming all the while.
Able smiled. He’d had nothing but the unworthy to challenge him lately. Several times he almost attacked his team out of boredom, but today would actually be fun.
Adrenaline coursed through his body as they once again clashed.
The pale warrior was fast and so was Able. They traded blows, and with every couple strikes Able would pull a new blade from his pocket dimension, for they dulled quickly as they struck the pale warrior's bones.
The pale warrior tried to rend Able's flesh with his hands, and Able agilely dodged the attacks. The pale warrior was predictable, filled with shame and hate as it was.
However, he surpassed Able in raw strength and speed, and that was deciding the battle. Cuts continued to accumulate over Able’s body as the fight progressed, while the pale warrior remained relatively unharmed despite Able landing many, many blows.
This is where the problem lied, both of these entities were effectively immortal, but that didn't mean their immortality was equal. When Able died, he’d be sent far away into his Coffin, but nothing the foundation had tried in many, many years had been able to kill Shy Guy, and they’d tried a lot.
In terms of immortality, the Shy Guy was superior.
Able had quickly realized this. However, just because an outcome was already determined didn't make the process unenjoyable. Sometimes slamming your head into a wall could be fun.
So the fight went on.
One fought for the joy of it, and one fought for shame, but in the end Able laid in pieces upon the ground, as the pale warrior sprinted off into the tree line, not even savoring its victory.
There had been many eyes on the church, and almost all of them had seen the pale warrior get tossed down the church's steps. Everyone had seen its face, and that was unacceptable to the poor, decrepit creature.
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Off in a far dimension crawling with the offspring of a powerful entity, sat a large Cicada like being. Its children covered the ground like a thick blanket, giving the illusion that the ground itself was alive as they roiled and shifted.
One of its rituals had been ruined, and while losing one ritual was inconsequential in and of itself, the issue was that something had actually been capable of ending the ritual in the first place.
One of Order’s kin, warped by chaos had done it. The entity itself was interesting. Not many could support the duality of the two extremes like that.
The creature grinned at the mental image.
'Maybe I should go retrieve it? I’m sure that the king would find him very...interesting. Yes, that's what I'll do.'
As soon as that thought crossed its mind a large rift in space opened up near the Cicada, and out stepped a man wearing a black business suit and sunglasses. His smile was impossibly large, and the smaller cicadas covering the floor fled from his presence.
The Cicada god tsked in annoyance. Not a second after he so much as considered touching that apostle, one of Order’s ilk had decided to make an appearance.
“To what do I owe this meeting?” The god asked.
The smiling man cocked his head in response, “Are you implying you don’t know.”
“Oh come on, it was merely a passing thought, does that really go against the rules of Order now? He can't possibly think that he can restrict our ability to think, can he?”
“A passing thought and a choice you’ve decided to act on are two different things,” the smiling man answered sternly.
The cicada stared down at the man, “The king won’t sit idly by if you kill me. Do you understand that?”
“We’ve set up rules with your king, and you’ve just broken the nonaggression pact.”
“And you think he’d care? The only rules he follows are the rules of the beasts. He’ll meet your violence with violence. You can’t kill me, and you most certainly can't kill him.”
The smiling man scoffed, “If it means we’ll reach true order, then we’ll simply meet him with more violence than he can handle.”
The smiling man then rushed toward the Cicada and the two entities clashed.
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Meanwhile, Michael crawled out from his escape tunnel. He reckoned he’d made it about two miles from the church before he surfaced, but it was hard to tell.
Once he was fully out he mentally ordered several of his soldiers to collapse the tunnel. There was no sense in giving them an easy path to follow. He'd also made sure to ditch the chip the foundation had put in his neck down in the tunnel. It was quite easy to remove, he simply had to will his flesh to push it to the surface and out it came.
It was just a precaution, there was a chance this foundation could use it to track him the same way they tracked their Tommy.
'You can never be too careful with them,' Michael thought sourely.
Once the tunnel had collapsed, Michael organized his soldiers and began to sprint through the forest at superhuman speeds. He needed to make some distance from the inevitable bloodbath the Shy Guy was making. It was a good distraction, but one they’d quickly get under control once they understood what was happening.