Bumaro and Ion sat at a table - SCP Foundation

Robert Bumaro, Builder of the Broken God, sat at one end of the table. His dead, metallic gaze honestly reflecting how dead he felt inside. He was indeed dead inside too, as he dumped his organic body in some Ancient Greek trash bin some thousand years ago.

On the other hand, Grand Karcist Ion who sat at the opposite end had too many eyes for his own good. He had to close a bunch of them so that he wouldn't see a dozen of tables, and a dozen of his mortal enemies blurred together. He also had to close a few of the more inhuman ones, so as to not get a terribly distorted vision. These eyes were in fact, very much decorative.

"Why," Bumaro finally said, his forehead resting in his hands.

"Because I will come down as a god and devour all of you! Including your petty metal church!" Ion roared as his voice from the many mouths resonated, before briefly choking on his own saliva.

Bumaro buried his face further into his hands. "Then why don't you do it already. Clearly nothing is stopping you now, since you've been sending these inferior copies of yourself here, for like, a week now."

"You Mekhanites sent us into the Great Brass Prison, remember!" Ion opened all his eyes wide in anger, before closing them in a headache cause by this sudden flux of visual input.

"That was three thousand years ago, also last time I checked Adytum links to Alagadda, and Alagadda goes here fine, so I'm actually surprised why you haven't just gotten out of there."

"Well, I might have gained a bit of weight." Ion averted his gaze. "But that doesn't matter! We've been preparing for my return! Sacrifices here and there!"

"Yes, human fruit trees and farmlands. Clearly you guys have taken on the lifestyle of hardworking farmers, I'm almost proud of you," Bumaro said in a monotone voice. "What happened to the old style meat temples. I'm really missing that right now."

"How can your stupid machine mind understand! All of these are part of a grand plan, of course!" Ion yelled as his arms waved around furious, hitting some of his eyes. Ouch.

"Ion, like, I don't think staying next to Yaldabaoth is good for your mental health," Bumaro sighed, his inside deader. "I remember having way more intelligent conversations with you."

"What do you know, this is all your fault anyways!" Ion yelled with a growing volume.

"How is this my fault now," Bumaro said flatly.

"If it hadn't been you Mekhanites, I would have fulfilled my vision already! This is all for a good cause!"

"The good cause of turning people into flesh blobs. I mean it isn't really my fault that you pissed off some people. I wasn't even in charge of the Mekhanites by then," Bumaro said. "I only beat the shit out of you."

Ion let out a frustrating yelp and struck with mighty fury. One of his longer arms quickly formed into a blade, which impacted with Bumaro's head. Then the bone broke, expectedly as bones often do when they're applied against metal. Ion fell back and sat on the ground, tears streaming from a few of his eyes.

"Why are you even doing this," Bumaro said, his hands rubbing his unharmed temple. "I mean you have tried this a dozen of times by now."

"I will tear at you until you break!" Ion screamed, quickly healing the broken bone, without resetting it, creating yet another deformed limb. "All the mighty warriors of flesh I've sent have failed, but I shall bring you down with my own hands!"

"Those are like, giant meat piles," Bumaro sighed. "Maybe they failed because they don't have any appendages to move. Next time consider how things actually work, maybe."

"Lies! All your metallic lies!" Ion waved his newly deformed limb. "I will never listen to you!"

"Nadox totally left you to run off with Derdekeas, Ion."

With that, Ion's gaze widened. He stuttered about revenge, then turned and ran out of the main hall of the Broken Church. In a moment, a few loud howls and something akin to crying can be heard in the distance.