Keter.
Keter!
The moment the object class flashed on-screen, the multiverse's collective theorizing ground to a halt.
No one had expected—
A door to be rated Keter.
The unkillable, endlessly evolving SCP-682 was Keter.
The reality-warping, wish-granting Witch Child was Keter.
So what horrors did a Keter-class door conceal?
Fortunately, the screen spared no time for speculation.
Dossiers flooded the display:
[SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES]
Outpost-54 has been constructed around SCP-1983, disguised as a chemical plant. The "factory" serves as barracks for MTF Chi-13 ("Choir Boys").
All entrances must remain guarded. Personnel are to use Cover Story 1983-12 for inquisitive civilians.
[CHI-13 PROTOCOLS]
All operatives must hold unshakable religious faith.
All ammunition must be silver or silver-plated.
SCP-1983-1's front door requires 24/7 surveillance. Engage any SCP-1983-2 entities on sight.
No personnel may approach within 5 meters of SCP-1983-2 outside approved testing.
The multiverse blinked.
Religious faith? Silver bullets?
What kind of requirements were these?
And what the hell was SCP-1983-2?
More data streamed in:
[DESCRIPTION]
SCP-1983-1: A derelict single-story farmhouse in ██ County, Wyoming, abandoned after satanic cult murders in 1968.
Upon opening its front door, spatial anomalies manifest. No matter or light escapes the threshold (though heat emissions occur).
"Spatial anomalies."
Observers with sharp instincts latched onto the term.
Three-Body Universe – Earth
Luo Ji's fingers steepled. "The spatial anomaly—and these 'SCP-1983-2' derivatives—must be the threat. But why tie it to faith and cults?"
Then the next lines loaded, and his blood chilled.
[SCP-1983-2]
1.8-meter-tall bipedal entities with blurred humanoid shapes, jet-black bodies, and extreme aggression.
Upon contact, they extend limbs into victims' chests—leaving no external wounds—before extracting the heart via unknown means. The entity then returns to SCP-1983-1 with its prize.
Only silver bullets paired with prayer can permanently kill them. The prayer's content/faith matters less than the sincerity of belief. Corpses evaporate, leaving sulfur residue.
Chatrooms exploded.
"WTF?! That's literally a demon!"
"No wonder they need faith and silver—it's demon-slaying gear!"
"Heart-ripping through intact skin? That's some eldritch bullshit—"
"So… that door leads to… Hell?"
Devil May Cry Universe
Nero and crew needed zero context.
As demon hunters, they'd slaughtered hundreds of these things.
Evil. Greedy. Bloodthirsty. Humanity's eternal scourge.
Lady's brow furrowed. "But demons are confined to the Underworld. Is that door a gateway to our realm?"
The files concluded.
The screen shifted to the two recruits:
Jinx twirled in her sleek black field ops gear, grinning at her blue braids. "Wow. No pumpkin-orange prison jumpsuits? Foundation approval +1!"
Spotting the white-haired, stubble-jawed man nearby, she waved. "Hey, old-timer! Name's Jinx. J-I-N—"
Dante groaned. "Christ. Paired with a kid?" He flagged down a passing scientist. "Requesting a teammate swap."
Jinx's eye twitched. "You motherfu—"
Dante smirked. "Or I solo it. Demons are demons—same shit, different dimension."
"I'LL @#$% YOUR—"
Ignoring her, Dante addressed the scientist: "I've got my own silver bullets. As for faith… 'Slay demons that harm humans' count?"
The white-coated man finally reached them.
Dr. Bright adjusted his tie. "If your conviction's absolute. But remember—prayer seals the kill."
Then he dropped the bomb:
"Also, you're not here to contain SCP-1983."
Both recruits—and the multiverse—froze.