Him and the Other Him - SCP Foundation

He was not omniscient, and He did not always understand everything He did see.

That fact was the opposite of another: His life was very simple. He was here, because the Unclean were everywhere else. Because of their monstrosity, and because of the destruction they had caused. His life was dedicated to purging the world of their evil. It was all so simple and easy to understand. With His tears, and the help of His servants, he would be able to do it; no obstacle could prevent Him from fulfilling His purpose.

That was the way it was supposed to be.

Which was why seeing what He saw, right now, was confusing. Not annoying, not sad, not horrifying, just… confusing.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was the one who should win and, from what He saw from the mountain top, this wasn't what was happening. Even if He was far away from the battlefields, He could see that His men, His Militia, were surrounded. They were still fighting, those who were still alive, but He knew that their enemies were winning. That nothing could change the course of the battle, the course of these last battles, because He could see that there would be no more. The Unclean had taken over everything.

Maybe joining the fight and giving hope to all His people could help, but it could also kill Him. This was a misconception His followers often had about Him: He wasn't a fighter. Not only because the Unclean were many and powerful, but also because it was not His role, it was not what He was supposed to do. His role was simple: travelling through the universes, seeing if His enemies were there and, if they were, exhorting humans to join Him. Giving them, with His tears, the power and the courage to fight. Then, when the war was won, disappearing. Moving on.

But He and His servants had lost, this time. And all He could see was shadows and destruction. Generally, when He surveyed a world from atop a mountain, He felt only peace and satisfaction because He had done the right thing. Not now. For the first time, He couldn't help but feel sorry. So many resources had been used for fighting the Unclean, and so many battles had led to this: homes, churches, turned to nothing but rubble. Men, women, and maybe children who were dead or bereaved. And the slow realization, for the first time, that all of His work might be completely worthless.

But He needed to move. This world was definitely lost, there was no time to waste. The Unclean would not allow Him time to mourn the loss of His people. As He began to go, He turned His head one last time to look at what He left behind. And in some small measure, He could sense that it was partly His fault for thinking it was impossible to lose after all His previous victories.

He was not omniscient, and He did not always understand everything he did see. He had questions. One: why was this new world so different from all the others he had previously visited? Why was the smell of the Unclean suddenly so difficult for Him to detect? Questions without a doubt more important than the one most sane people would be asking at this moment: why were there people with weapons, and why were their weapons pointed at Him?

He was surprised, because this had never happened to Him before. Not the "oh-dear-God-why-we're-all-screwed-they're-too-much-life-seems-so-meaningless-all-of-a-sudden" kind of surprised (the same kind He could see on the same faces of some of His servants when they were close to death), more a "Oh-what-are-these-funny-things" kind.

The men in front of Him were entirely dressed in black, and they wore masks that covered their faces. He was unable to identify the arms they were using, but He could tell that they were calm. Unafraid, as if they were prepared for His presence. For a moment, He thought they might be the people who could follow Him, help Him accomplish his goal.

Only for a moment.

Another man appeared. He was old and well-dressed, short gray hair, medals. His expression was calm, reflecting that certain dignity which comes with age (to some people). He looked like someone who had seen many things during the time he'd spent on Earth.

"Hello. Let me be clear: no, we're not going to try to hurt you, because we know that would be extremely difficult, and because we're not here for that. We're here to talk. Do you understand me?"

The voice of the old man was extremely calm. He was professional, like this was nothing unusual for him. For a response, He made a nod of approbation.

It was enough for the old man. "Good. Let me introduce myself. I'm George Bowe, United States Army General… or, at least, former General. As of today, I'm the new general in-chief of the Chaos Insurgency — not responsible for the name — and I'm looking for people or entities who can help me with a great plan. I need your help."

This was a thing He did not understand. What was Bowe talking about? The Unclean? Supporters of the Unclean? In that case, why couldn't He smell them, or feel them, or see them? Was Bowe aware of their existence? What was a Chaos Insurgency, and why did it matter who was responsible for its name?

What was an United States Army General?

Bowe turned to his men. "Lower your weapons. I want to have a conversation, just him and I."

The men executed the order in silence, which He thought was the mark of a great leader. He still wasn't sure what Bowe meant about his "great plan," but maybe the "general" could help Him instead.

Bowe breathed a sigh of relief. "I've known about you for a long while, but it was time to see you in person. I'm happy to see that you seem willing to listen to me."

No-one had ever told Him that they'd known of His existence "for a long time." His eyes widened in surprise. Of course, He hadn't met many people who weren't already his servants. Bowe also seemed surprised, at His lack of a verbal response. The general was surely expecting Him to reply with some refutation, or at least say anything at all."

"Not really talkative? I see. That's not a problem, this will go faster with less talk. You do understand me?"

Again, He nodded in approbation.

"Good. Phony greetings and speeches, talking for hours and saying nothing always had a tendency to bore me. It still does. I suppose you know what war is?"

Once more, He nodded.

"Then you won't be surprised by what I'm going to tell you, then: we're in one. And our adversary holds power beyond the realms of belief. These men are members of a group called the Chaos Insurgency, dedicated to embracing the anomalous part of the world, with men like you. We will explain more about that in time. Are you willing to help us?"

He stayed silent, as usual. Then, after a moment, He smiled, and followed them.

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