SCP: A TRUE ANOMALY

The First Trial: The Weight of Knowledge

The Guardian raised an arm, and the air around A'malther grew dense and heavy. Books, tomes, and scrolls materialized in the air, orbiting him at an increasing speed. Each was inscribed with cryptic, shifting symbols and languages far older than anything he had seen.

Guardian: "Before you may proceed, you must demonstrate the capacity to endure the weight of knowledge. Many seek the Repository, but few understand that knowledge is no gift—it is a burden. Each book, each page, carries the hopes, sins, and truths of entire worlds, and it will crush those unworthy of bearing it. Stand beneath the weight of eternity, A'malther, and prove your resolve."

A'malther felt the crushing pressure of the orbiting texts begin to bear down upon him. His soul resonated in defiance, glowing with determination, but the challenge was not merely physical—it was existential. The weight of the knowledge bore down not on his body, but on his very sense of self. Memories, doubts, and fears clawed at his mind:

Could he truly become what A'habbat believed he could be? Would his quest for answers destroy him, as it had others before him? Was he still the same being who once cherished humanity, or had he already lost his way?

The weight intensified with each passing second, threatening to unravel him entirely. Yet A'malther clung to his determination, repeating his mantra: "If you can, you have to."

The Second Trial: The Mirror of Truth

As the weight lifted, A'malther found himself in a vast, dark chamber filled with towering mirrors. Each mirror reflected a different version of him:

One was the kind, angelic being he once was. Another was his corrupted, hatred-driven form. Others showed him as a tyrant, a god of destruction, or a broken shell.

The Guardian's voice echoed, reverberating in the chamber.

Guardian: "Knowledge begins with truth. Before you may claim the wisdom of the Repository, you must confront the truths of what you were, what you are, and what you may become. Which reflection is true? Which one is false? And which one will you accept as your own?"

The mirrors began to shift and distort, their reflections stepping forward as physical manifestations. Each spoke to him in voices that were both his own and alien:

The Angelic Form: "You were once the guardian of humanity, A'malther, an angel who sought to protect and uplift. Abandon this path of godhood and return to what you were—a beacon of hope, free of corruption and ambition."

The Corrupted Form: "Hatred is your strength. Power comes from wrath, from vengeance. Embrace it, and you will rise above all who doubt you."

The Tyrant: "You are a god. Humanity and all lesser beings exist to serve you. Crush those who oppose you, and let none question your dominion."

The Broken Shell: "You are nothing. A shadow of what you were. You will fail, as you always have. Why fight when the end is inevitable?"

A'malther had to choose which version of himself he would embrace, or forge a new path that defied all the mirrors. Each step forward brought him closer to clarity—or complete destruction.

The Final Trial: The Guardian's Riddle

Having passed the trials of endurance and self-reflection, A'malther stood before the Guardian once more. The towering entity regarded him with a gaze that pierced through time and space.

Guardian: "You have endured the weight of knowledge and faced the truth of your own existence. But knowledge without understanding is meaningless. To unlock the Repository, you must answer the question that has eluded gods, mortals, and all who have come before you."

The Guardian raised its hand, and a glowing symbol appeared in the air—a complex geometric design representing infinity.

Guardian: "What is the purpose of existence? Why do gods rise and fall? Why do mortals cling to life, knowing it is fleeting? Speak, A'malther. What is the truth that binds all creation?"

This was not a question with a single answer—it was a challenge of understanding, perspective, and wisdom. A'malther had to draw upon everything he had learned:

The humanity he once cherished. The divine nature he now struggled to embody. The lessons from A'habbat, the Foundation, and his own experiences. The answer he gave would determine his worthiness to access the Divine Repository and its infinite knowledge.

A'malther: "...The purpose of existence, is to persist in your will, having a reason to who you are, and follow your way in life. Gods rise and fall for the constant attempts to surpass what they miss, a real purpose of understatement of who they are, and focus in the power as themselves. Mortals do cling for enjoy of everything they can, even if they go through hard times, they persist to see the positive part, and continue, with a mentality of everything being just temporal, and having to enjoy even the smallest things for real joy. And for the truth binding all creation... I do assume is destruction, as everything will remain in balance, and everything surpassing that balance will only change the current one for a new one, as for positive, negative must exist, for creation, destruction must exist... A perfect balance in between, as for endure by hard time, and evolve in the good time."

The Guardian stood silent for a moment, its glowing presence dimming slightly as though absorbing A'malther's words. The cosmic air grew heavy, resonating with the weight of A'malther's declaration. Then, the Guardian's voice resounded, ancient and unyielding, yet tinged with what could only be described as curiosity—or perhaps approval.

Guardian: "Mortal and yet divine, you speak with clarity forged through experience, loss, and determination. Your answer touches the edges of truth, though truth itself is boundless and fragmented, like shards of a shattered star. You perceive persistence as purpose, balance as necessity, and destruction as an agent of creation. These are the tenets of those who seek understanding, and you grasp them with conviction. Yet…"

The being loomed closer, its incomprehensible visage illuminating A'malther in radiant light.

Guardian: "To persist is to endure pain, and to endure pain is to transform. Do you truly understand the cost of balance, A'malther? To preserve it requires not just sacrifice, but choices that will scar your very soul. Are you prepared to destroy that which you hold dear, should it tip the scales? To forsake joy to protect what remains? For balance does not care for intention—it demands consequence."

The Guardian's words hung in the air, challenging the very essence of A'malther's resolve. Then, without waiting for a response, it gestured, and the reality around them shifted.

The Next Challenge: The Cost of Balance

A'malther suddenly found himself surrounded by fragments of memories—his own and others'. Each memory flickered like a candle, showing lives he had influenced, lives he had saved, and lives he had taken. Among them were images of A'habbat, Raziel, and even A'tellif, as well as countless humans and beings he had encountered.

The Guardian's voice echoed through the space.

Guardian: "To claim the knowledge you seek, you must prove that you understand the cost of your philosophy. These fragments represent those bound to you—by love, loyalty, or destiny. Each one carries a weight upon the balance of existence. You must decide: which lives are essential to maintain the equilibrium, and which must be relinquished to preserve the greater whole? The scales must not tip, A'malther. Choose wisely."

The Test:

Before him appeared two enormous cosmic scales. On one side, flickering images of A'habbat, Raziel, and A'tellif appeared, their lights burning brightly. On the other side, countless faceless souls—the masses of mortals and anomalies he had encountered—glowed faintly, yet together they outshone the other side.

The Guardian's voice boomed again, a sharp reminder of the stakes.

Guardian: "Balance is neither kind nor forgiving. Choose poorly, and all shall fall to chaos. Hesitate, and the scales will tip on their own. Act, A'malther—prove your understanding of existence's fragile harmony. Or will your determination falter beneath the weight of this truth?"

The Guardian's voice softened, yet carried an undeniable weight.

Guardian: "To persist is noble, but to persist alone is folly. True strength lies in understanding that no one being, no matter how determined, can bear the weight of existence alone. The scales demand not just sacrifice, but trust. Who will you trust, A'malther, to carry this burden with you? Speak, and they shall aid you."

A'malther now had a choice to name an ally—A'habbat, Raziel, A'tellif, or even one of the O5 Council members or other SCPs he had encountered—who could share the burden of balance. However, naming someone would risk pulling them into the consequences of his choice, forcing them to suffer alongside him.

A'malther: "... I must do this by my own... If I do really desire to improve, be my best version of myself, and be the one I always should have been... I must and have to accept everything by my own, no matter how difficult is. And for who I would sacrifice... I choose the bigger for low, I did already sacrifice enough for other in the past centuries, I am far done with only others, I want to also enjoy, and I want to sacrifice others for make the one closer to me remain. After all, existence is far endless, and life will always start anew, while also stopping."

The Guardian stood motionless for a moment, its brilliance dimming slightly, as though absorbing A'malther's response. The weight of his choice rippled through the space, shaking the infinite scales. The flickering lights representing countless lives shimmered dimly, while the brighter glow of A'habbat, Raziel, and A'tellif remained steady.

Guardian: "You speak with conviction, A'malther, though your words carry both truth and selfishness. To sacrifice the many for the few is to place personal desire above balance itself. You would preserve those close to you, claiming the endless nature of existence justifies the loss of countless others. Yet…"

Its voice softened, though still resonated with power.

Guardian: "…such decisions are not made without consequence. The balance you speak of is not static—it is a living force, reshaping itself with each action, with each choice. To protect what is dear to you, you must accept the weight of your choice and endure its aftermath."

The Next Trial: The Weight of Sacrifice

The scales trembled violently, and the space around A'malther shifted once again. This time, the fragments of lives he had sacrificed began to manifest. Souls of mortals, anomalies, and even distant entities whose fates were now tied to his decision materialized around him. They stared silently, their gazes piercing yet void of malice.

The Guardian's voice thundered, echoing through the vast repository.

Guardian: "To preserve your own joy and protect those you hold dear, you must face the weight of what you have sacrificed. Look upon them, A'malther—those whose lives you deemed expendable. Their echoes will follow you, for balance demands acknowledgment. This is the burden of selfishness: to carry the weight of every soul you have cast aside."

The souls began to close in around A'malther, their forms twisting into shadows that clung to his being. Their presence was suffocating, their whispers filled with quiet sorrow and regret.

The Guardian's Challenge:

The Guardian's voice pierced the oppressive silence.

Guardian: "To claim the knowledge you seek, you must prove that you can endure this burden without faltering. Stand tall beneath the weight of your choice, and show that your determination can withstand the consequences. Should you falter, you shall fall, and the knowledge of the Repository will remain forever beyond your grasp."

The challenge was not physical or intellectual, but emotional and spiritual—a test of resolve and willpower.

As the shadows wrapped around him, A'malther felt their weight grow heavier. Each soul seemed to whisper fragments of lives lost—their dreams, their struggles, their joys—all extinguished by his choice.

His determination wavered, not from regret, but from the sheer emotional toll of their presence. Yet, deep within, he reminded himself of why he had chosen this path: to protect those closest to him, to forge his own future, and to find the happiness he had been denied for centuries.

A'habbat's face flashed in his mind, a beacon of support and the very reason he had made his choice. He clung to her image, her belief in him, and the love that had given him renewed purpose.

As A'malther stood amidst the suffocating shadows, one voice rang out above the rest—familiar and haunting. It was Cad's voice, his long-lost brother, the very figure who had once driven A'malther's transformation into the being he had become.

Cad's Voice: "Brother… is this who you've become? A god who sacrifices countless lives for the sake of a few? Did I fall so that you could rise above the rest, or have you fallen further than even I could imagine?"

A'malther's soul quaked, and for the first time, doubt seeped into his resolve. Cad's voice carried the weight of their shared past, the pain of his loss, and the unspoken question: Was A'malther truly becoming his best self, or was he simply repeating the cycle of selfishness and loss that had defined his existence?

The Guardian's voice returned, sharper now.

Guardian: "Do you see, A'malther? The balance you seek is not external—it lies within you. To carry the weight of your choice is not merely to endure—it is to confront your very soul. Do you still persist, knowing what you have become?"

A'malther: "... I do not feel anything, leave, and rest. I will you... I will prove to everyone... I can by myself... No matter what you believe, you always become what you against... Your best version is just a reflection of the worst for others, and so... I just want to feel what I at first I focused on for others, but for myself... If starting to think about myself and not for others is being selfish... I am selfish... I do want to be selfish as I want to feel the same as others. I am selfish for desiring the same... I am selfish for not care anymore... You do not exist, and yet, this is just insanity... One I am very familiar with, and not scared from anymore... If you do want something further, I have saved the souls of everyone I killed, remaining them in my domain... As shadows or hearts, if what you want is for me to endure the weight of their souls on me, just give them to me... I can take them and much more."

The Guardian remained silent for a long moment, its radiant presence dimming, as though contemplating the defiant and raw honesty of A'malther's words. The stillness of the Divine Repository was shattered by its voice, now sharper and more piercing than before, resonating with an ancient and unyielding power.

The Guardian: "Selfishness… honesty… madness… They are all threads of the same tapestry, A'malther. You seek to defy the rules of existence not through rebellion, but through acceptance of what others deem flawed. You embrace your selfishness, wear it as a shield, and reject guilt as an irrelevant weight. It is rare, even among gods, to admit such truths without hesitation."

The shelves around A'malther trembled as the Guardian's voice deepened, its tone both challenging and intrigued.

Guardian: "You believe that by holding the souls you have taken, by carrying their presence, you can endure the burden of selfishness and madness alike. Very well. You have chosen to become the arbiter of your own fate, the wielder of your own balance. But such power comes with consequences. If you seek to hold the weight of countless souls, then I shall grant you your wish…"

The Trial of Souls

Suddenly, the space around A'malther darkened, and from the void, the very souls he had sacrificed began to emerge. They were no longer mere shadows or fleeting whispers. They appeared as they once were, whole and vivid, their emotions palpable.

Some stared at A'malther with anger, others with sorrow, and a few with silent acceptance. The sheer presence of billions of souls filled the space, their collective energy threatening to crush his very existence.

The Guardian loomed over the scene, its voice calm but unrelenting.

Guardian: "You claim you can endure their weight. Prove it. Bear the full reality of their lives, their losses, their despair. Their memories shall intertwine with yours, and their pain shall become your own. Show me that your selfishness is not a weakness, but the strength to persist in spite of the chaos it brings."

The souls began to converge on A'malther, their forms dissolving into streams of light that pierced into his very being. Each soul carried the weight of its life—its dreams, regrets, and struggles—and A'malther felt them all at once, like a flood threatening to drown him.

The First Twist: The Whisper of the Saved

As the souls poured into him, a strange harmony began to emerge. Among the despair and rage, there were whispers of gratitude—faint but unmistakable. The souls A'malther had saved, those preserved in his domain, began to speak:

"You gave us another chance… You carried us when no one else would… You are not our destroyer; you are our savior…"

These voices intertwined with the pain, creating a strange duality within A'malther. He was both destroyer and preserver, selfish and selfless, hated and adored. The weight of this paradox pressed against his soul, threatening to break him—or reshape him entirely.

The Intellectual Trial: The True Purpose of the Divine Repository

As the souls continued to merge with A'malther, the Guardian's voice returned, now quieter but no less challenging.

Guardian: "Your resilience is impressive, but endurance alone is not enough. You seek the knowledge of the Repository, yet you have not asked the most important question: Why does it exist? Why does this place of endless information, untouched by time, persist beyond gods, mortals, and universes alike?"

The space around A'malther shifted, and he found himself surrounded by visions of countless worlds, each one teetering on the edge of destruction or rebirth. The Guardian's presence became omnipresent, as though the very library was speaking to him.

Guardian: "To claim the knowledge of this place, you must answer this: What is the true purpose of knowledge? Is it to create, to destroy, to endure, or to transcend? Speak, A'malther, and let your answer shape the Repository's judgment of your worth."

The Physical Challenge: The Collapse of Reality

Before A'malther could respond, the Repository began to quake violently. Shelves toppled, and the endless expanse of books and scrolls turned into a chaotic storm of words and images. The Guardian's voice boomed.

Guardian: "Knowledge without understanding leads only to chaos. Show me that you can bring order to this collapse, that your mind can reshape the chaos into purpose. Only then shall you prove worthy of the Repository's secrets."

A'malther was faced with a storm of raw information—billions of fragmented thoughts, ideas, and truths swirling around him. He had to focus, to impose his will on the chaos and weave it into coherence. This required not only strength but clarity of purpose, forcing him to confront his deepest motivations and beliefs.

As A'malther fought to endure the weight of the souls, answer the Guardian's question, and bring order to the chaos, a final challenge emerged. A figure stepped forward from the storm—A'malther himself, but as he once was.

This reflection spoke with a calm but piercing voice: "You have claimed to abandon who you were, yet here I stand. I am the shadow you cast, the truth you refuse to face. If you wish to transcend, you must defeat me—not with power, but with understanding. Tell me, A'malther, why do you deserve to rise above what you once were? What makes your selfishness a strength, and not a failure?"

The reflection's gaze was unrelenting, its presence a mirror of every doubt and regret A'malther had buried deep within. The answer he gave would determine not only his fate but the future of his pursuit of knowledge, power, and self-fulfillment.

In a rush sudden, A'malther pupils glowed with blue, and then to purple intensity, while in an instant, all those souls were crashed and pierced through by bones, killing them all, no matter who it was.

A'malther: "... If I learnt something from the humans... Life is for your own, and you must focus on yourself and those you care... It's kill or be killed, and I want to enjoy my existence, as same as how humans does... And if I have to kill myself in the process... I will shatter the low of me it remains... I want to improve, I want to become stronger, I want to have the life I deserve, and I know I must take it from others to achieve it... I have now a wife, I have who obey me, those who fear me, and a Foundation under my control while try to hold it peacefully... I have faced every lesson I should have faced, and learnt from my past and mistakes. And yet, I want them to remain there, in the past. A lesson I must never forget if I do want to continue improving and not do the same mistakes..."

A'malther raises his hands and arms up and open.

A'malther: "Show me what I am missing, show me what aspects I must improve. Teach me the knowledge I need. And I will learn for improvement, accepting everything... Each price, each cost... Everything has a value and must be paid, and every action brings a reaction with consequences as for either positive or negative, either for you or to someone else too."

The Divine Repository quaked violently as A'malther's declaration reverberated through its endless expanse, a raw defiance that challenged the very principles the Repository was built upon. The Guardian's radiant form flickered and dimmed momentarily, its silence an acknowledgment of the sheer finality of A'malther's actions.

The Guardian's voice emerged again, colder now, a mixture of restrained anger and reluctant acknowledgment.

Guardian: "You have broken the cycle of judgment. You have denied the trials, rejecting not only the weight of the souls but the lessons they bore. Such defiance is rare—admirable, even—though it reeks of hubris."

The radiant figure expanded, filling the space with its overwhelming presence, yet the tremor in its tone betrayed an undertone of respect.

Guardian: "You seek knowledge not as a student, but as a conqueror. You wish to master the Repository's secrets without bowing to its laws, and yet… you stand unbroken. Very well, A'malther. I shall grant you the next step in your path, but know this: your choice has redefined the cost."

A portal of shimmering gold and black tore open behind A'malther, swirling with the essence of chaos and balance. The Guardian stepped aside, its form dissipating into fragmented light as it uttered its final words.

Guardian: "You shall not be taught; you shall take. The answers you crave are beyond this threshold, but they will not be given freely. You will face the core of existence itself, and in doing so, you may shatter the truths you thought unshakable. Step forward, A'malther, and prove your resolve."

The path ahead was no longer one of structured trials but a labyrinth of chaos, where the answers he sought would be guarded by concepts themselves—manifestations of power, morality, and truth. The Guardian had relinquished its role as arbiter, leaving A'malther to face the challenges on his terms.