Josef glanced at his surroundings. Decrepit neo-classical 
architecture drenched in sandbags, barbed wire, and any 
fortifications imaginable. On appearances alone Benedikt's claim 
didn't seem far-fetched. Enough documents had been found by the 
Foundation to suggest that the Thule were using the place to 


develop an ersatz Key, a replacement for one of the mystical objects 
they needed to complete the Rite of Solomon and become the sole 
thaumaturges in the world. Benedikt wasn't telling the full truth, 
though. 


"Is that why you have Mekhanite structures in your body?" 
"M-mekhanite? No, the Aryan ancestors built far better—" 


Megaphones through the room screamed their panicked alarms, 
rising and falling over and over before fading. Josef sighed. 
Interrogation had taken far too long. Interrupting a beginning 
pseudoscientific diatribe, Benedikt was beheaded again, with Josef 
forcing his hand through the torso's neck stump and stripping it of 
the connecting cogs. 


"Reconsider how important you think Germanic peoples are," Josef 
said. 


The floor-bound head jittered in response. 


Doors at the top of the grand stairwell burst open to a chorus of 
gunfire. Obskuracorps soldiers clad in black fired down, riddling the 
ground with metal studs. Josef sprinted around the side of the 
stairwell and barreled through a set of doors to its left, tumbling into 
a long hallway. Above the glass shards of old ceiling lamps were 
dangling electrical lamps, providing the faint yellow light for him to 
spot the cthonian sigil traps etched into the floor. 


It would have prevented a mess if Josef hadn't stepped into one as 
he barged in. He stepped forward but collided with walls of sulfur 
dust now encasing the sigil's edges. Holes to somewhere impossible 
emerged around his feet. Cyan tendrils lunged from below, wrapping 
around his limbs as he thrashed. The demon's wolf-like head rose 
up on a serpentine body and stared into his chiseled eyes. It 
growled. 


Before it could open its maw the two tendrils encasing Josef's arms 
were torn apart. A holy water pack in his fatigues was just burst by 
the constriction. The demon screamed before Josef's fist tore 
through its jaw and down its throat, the other hand pulling out two 


teeth for later use. With bursts of aetheric energy the demon's body 
solidified and crumbled into a cold dust. Exorcised. 


Six seconds until the sulfur walls collapsed. An Obskuracorps officer 
barked by the door, likely ordering their platoon to fire the moment 
Josef exits. More than enough time to prepare. He holstered the 
teeth, brushed exorcised demon dust from his fatigues, grasped a 
grenade and pulled its pin. Four. Three. Two. One. 


The sulfur shattered into glass-like chunks. Gunfire erupted. Josef 
hurled the grenade through a crack and kicked a chunk froward, 
grabbing several as they fell in slow-motion and arranging them in 
the air as a barricade. He rushed forth as an explosion tore apart the 
barriers and several soldiers. Bullets tore past his fatigues to hit his 
body, the small cracks in his clay form like the pricks of what he 
imagined a needle felt like. 


He weaved around further sigil traps. A soldier clad in rusted 
chainmail lunged from behind and was swiftly knocked head-first 
into a trap, vanishing behind more yellow walls. Josef took cover, 
mentally blocked out the screams in the sulfur tomb, and thought. 
When the AOI had run undercover aether scans of the manor before 
he invited himself in they found the magical aura surrounding the 
area was the most intense around a large chamber in the far back. 
Now that he was past the entrance he could feel it wafting across his 
mind as well. To keep moving forward would bring him to his 
mission objectives and something dangerous. Something Thule and 
Obskuracorps should never have. 


The door at the end of the hallway opened. An Obskuracorps 
Commander — face covered by a mask like Benedikt's though 
painted with far more runes — stepped out. Strapped around one 
hand was a leash that led to a skeletal thing. Bones surrounded by 
yellow flames, three magenta "eyes" staring intently at Josef, the 
ends of all six arms broken and replaced with assault rifles. The 
Commander tugged on the leash and jerked the beast's head, the 
sealing nails embedded in its spine thrumming in response. 


Thule had learned how to control a demon. 


All gun-arms opened fire, belching a burst of blackened bullets that 


left dark scar-like trails through the air. Josef dodged. The bullets 
struck the sulfur walls of the trap once behind him and bent it like 
fabric. They pushed through to tear into the soldier's gorey remnants 
and the heads of the demon feasting on it, sucking the bodies 
inwards until they went inside-out and shrunk to fleshy motes. Ones 
stuck in the floor were still twisting its tiles in small marble cyclones. 


"Bastard," Josef muttered. 


For the first time since training he reached for the assault rifle — 
specially designed for his bulky hands — on his side and pulled the 
trigger. Bolts of thaumic energy launched from the barrel, fueled by 
the thaumaturgic potential of Josef's own body, arcing to the 
Commander's head. Their right arm split through their black uniform 
sleeve into three bronze limbs. Thaumaturgic shields projected from 
the hands. The bolts desperately whizzed around the iridescent 
barriers for a weak point but the arms moved too fast. All were 
blocked and absorbed as fuel. 


Josef forced one last surge of energy into the gun. He plugged its 
barrel with a demon tooth and hurled the gun in a path that would 
bring it to the Commander. More bullets came from the soldiers by 
the hallway's start but now the only ones to care about were from 
the skeleton. He ran along the wall while breaking off wooden 
chunks, each meeting the projectiles and slowing their approach. 
More black trails snaked toward his feet. He jumped and threw a 
grenade that rolled ahead. 


The grenade blasted the hallway's wall open. Josef dipped onto the 
grassy field outside, embraced the cool breeze, then dived back into 
the chaos under the veil of wooden debris plumes. The clogged gun 
landed behind the Commander and finally buckled under the 
pressure of the energy within it, incinerating itself and the tooth in a 
blue fireball. A metal arm twisted to block the inferno with a shield. 
Only two were left to halt Josef. 


The two arms merged their shields and the Commander raised a 
glowing pistol, ready to fire the moment their defenses were lost. 
Josef retrieved the second tooth and stabbed it through the shields. 
He drove a foot down on it like a wedge. A gash tore through. He 
budged the two arms apart while twisting the other to cover the 


Commander's gun. They fired. The bullet went nowhere. Once the 
shields vanished it only took a swift punch to force the Commander's 
gear guts out of their chest. 


Leaving the body to gracelessly collapse, Josef spun to face the 
demon. It had stopped firing. Even the soldiers ceased their fire. 
Now that the fighting had lessened he began to notice the fine 
details along the skeleton's body. Carved illustrations of towns, 
depictions of warriors, commoners, children, all with a six armed 
skeleton. Runes spelling "defender" on its forehead. 


The demon was never a malicious force. It was a guardian of this 
region, extant for far longer than Josef, Nyrsigtuna, or any modern 
occult group. This wasn't what it was meant for. 


Josef retrieved the pistol from the coat of the presumably deceased 
Commander and — after breaking the trigger guard meant for 
human hands — fired a round at every sealing nail. All shattered 
with ease. Heat erupted from around Defender and each gun-arm 
shattered, replaced by normal arms manifesting out of thin air. 


It stared. He nodded. It nodded back. 


Josef left the hallway and closed the door, not a single soldier daring 
to fire. A few paces forward and he heard the faint screams of 
panicked soldiers running from a force their commanders thought 
they could control. 


With every step into the dining hall turned weapons storage room 
the aether grew denser. Josef's movement continued as normal yet 
it felt as though he was wading through water, the thaumaturgic 
energy high enough that it repeatedly manifested itself in blue 
sparks that bounded about the crates of guns, miraculously not 
willing the explosives to life. His destination would be past the next 
set of doors. 


He paused. He had a choice now. With much the manor's defense 
ruined he could leave, report on his findings to AOl Command, 
storm in with a full squad of thaumaturges, and finish the job. Time 
spent that could grant Obskuracorps precious time they needed for 
recuperation. 


The aetheric sparks continued their dance, briefly spiraling into a 
circle around his head before dissipating yet again. Something in the 
chamber ahead began humming. 


"Wise men foresee the consequences." 


Josef walked forward and bashed through the door's locks. He 
stepped into the chamber. 


JOSEF. 


The High Priest's voice felt more akin to a hammer to the head than 
actual speech. 


"Knowing my name isn't impressive." 


Ancient relics were jammed into the center of the chamber: a celtic 
cross, bronze spheroids lined with mechanical arms, a broken statue 
of a four-armed being. Atop stood the High Priest. Stygian blue 
tendrils wormed around and between the cracks in the artifacts, 
melding into the priest's back to feed them with thaumic energies. It 
was the origin of the aura. It was a site to develop a new Key. 


You have a Key of Solomon, Josef. 

The High Priest raised his arms; one mechanical, the other whirling 
light. Their black robes and armor rustled as the aether billowed 
about their position atop the artifacts. To Josef the chamber felt 
more like a gaping abyss by the second. 

Give the Key and | will let you live. 

"You seem content making a Key for yourself." 

Will you? 

One was not enough for the Rite. 


"Will you kill me regardless?" 


That is not an answer. 


Two swords launched off the floor and into the priest's hands. 
"You already know what it is." 


Every inch of Josef's hands became lined with glowing hebrew text. 
Then so be it. 


The High Priest shot forward, swords scarring the ground in a blaze 
of sparks. Harnessing the Key within him Josef spun the dense 
energies around his body and thrust to the side, attaining a brief 
weightlessness as he set his sights on the relic pile. With an aerial 
pirouette a second thrust sent him careening to the pile. The High 
Priest chanted. Dozens of flaming daggers appeared and entered 
pursuit of the golem. Josef's Key clicked and the gaseous forms of 
specters faded into being, assembling into a ring around his body. 
The daggers reached their prey only to vanish into undead hands. 


Josef collided into the four-armed statue, cracking a limb off of it. 
The arm flailed as if alive. There was a flare of light. A spear of 
meteoric iron longer than any human rested where the limb once 
existed. Josef raised it high. 


Before a new plan could be formulated the High Priest dived in. Both 
swords clatterred into the spear's sides, leaving not even a dent. 
The priest accelerated. Josef pushed back. Screams emerged from 
the spirits as they swirled around the priest, slowly disintegrating 
from the blue energies flaring all around. Cracks emerged in Josef's 
arms and nonexistent nerves seared. The air burst with heat. 


Josef lessened his grip and fell backwards. The High Priest surged 
ahead, knocking the spear to the side, and he slammed deep into 
the pile. The stygian blue tendrils shredded themselves apart. The 
pile violently exploded. Fires and debris swept over Josef, 
evaporating his fatigues and liquifying any tools he had. Behind 
hellish flames the cross, spherical devices, and all else in the pile 
sank into a molten pit that bent the chamber floor into itself. He 
stumbled back, dragging the spear with him. 


The great aura of the manor whisked away like dust in the wind. Any 
major thaumic powers Josef had were gone. 


NO. 


In a plume of liquid metal the High Priest, wreathed in robes of 
embers, emerged. His two swords were now white-hot liquid pillars 
yet they remained in his hands. 


OF ALL DEATHS, ONE AT THE HANDS OF 
A STONE BARBARIAN WILL BE NAUGHT. 


The priest soared to Josef. Both swords spun like wheels. Thrusts of 
the spear parried every attempted jab and Josef twisted it, stabbing 
into the priest's chest. Boiling blood trickled out. 


NAUGHT. 


The stygian blue tendrils returned, spilling from the High Priest's 
wound and stabbing through the spear, prying at its cracks until it 
shattered into seven-pointed fragments. His fist raised and Josef 
jolted into the air. 


NAUGHT. 


Duplicates of the swords emerged above Josef's chest, dripping 
metal across him. They all thrust in. The Key within his body 
churned within his insides and repeatedly bounded up. His mind 
screamed. 


NAUGHT. 


As more swords positioned above his head, preparing to gouge out 
the word of truth engraved on his head and erase his life, Josef 
heard a manic screech at the chamber entrance. In seconds the 
freed Guardian was upon the High Priest. Every magenta eye stared 
deep into their soul. Before he could react the Guardian had already 
carried them high to the air. Three skeletal arms punched into the 
priest's chest and exited on the other side. 


The fists phased out of the body and let it descend. Josef fell out of 
the air. 


wi ll gHE 
The priest's mangled body landed next to Josef. 
not... 


A lance of magma grew from their shattered mechanical arm and 
raised over the golem. Josef pushed himself off the ground. 


die. 


A single punch was all it took to extricate the High Priest's mind from 
his head. 


Josef strode across moonlit fields away from the burning manor. The 
embers released by the occult devastation had spread through the 
building's corridors, lighting the entire structure ablaze. The last 
Obskuracorps soldiers within scurried out of windows on the ground 
floor, lives far more important than what little was left of their 
research. He watched the burning over his shoulder. A crackle and 
the whole structure collapsed into a scaled-up bonfire. 


The faint roar of tanks bounded over the plain from afar. The AOI 
was sure to be confused when they find their reconnaissance 
mission had turned into decimation. Josef would either be lauded for 
valiantly stopping experiments on Rite of Solomon components or 
sternly spoken down to by Command for breaking valuable artifacts 
and protocol. He didn't care which outcome it would be. 


There was a yellow glimmer. Josef looked to see the Guardian 
standing the edge of the woods. It gave a last nod before its body 
dissipated into gasses that flowed into the surrounding trees and 
grasses. A flash of magenta from the wildlife and all was calm. 


SCP-738: The Devil's Deal 


Item #: SCP-738 
Object Class: Keter 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-738 is to be kept in three 
linked sealed chambers with armed guards and a remote detonation 
system at all times, as well as constant full audio/visual surveillance. 
Due to the variety and strength of observed interactions with 
SCP-738, and the unknown limits of SCP-738, the following 
procedures are to be strictly followed. 


When SCP-738 is not in use, its components must be kept one to 
each chamber. Mechanical means built into the containment area 
are to be used to assemble and disassemble SCP-738. 


Should mechanical assembly means fail, then testing is to be 
canceled until an engineer fitted with an explosive collar can be sent 
in to repair the systems. Said engineer is to be detonated upon any 
attempt to interact with any component of SCP-738.