The live broadcast room was silent at first. Then everyone burst into laughter as the information about SCP-3740 flashed across the screen.
This "lord god," the so-called main deity of the ancient Assyrian pantheon, lived in a containment chamber decorated like a medieval hunting lodge. Handcrafted wooden chairs, piles of animal furs, bright torches on the wall, a stone fireplace, and even a bearskin rug.
And then— fifteen barrels of beer. Always stocked.
That alone made the audience stare wide-eyed.
People had imagined a grand palace. A heavenly throne. Something magnificent.
But instead… this god was apparently satisfied with a cabin built like a Viking tavern and unlimited beer.
Inside SHIELD's monitoring room, agents were struggling not to laugh. Natasha Romanoff shook her head dramatically.
"Seriously? My codename 'Black Widow' suddenly feels too normal," she said.
Nick Fury gave her his usual tired stare. "What do you want to be called? The Flaming Poison Rose?"
"No," Natasha said proudly. "The Ever-Changing Deadly Rose. Sounds divine, right?"
"You need help," Fury muttered.
But the laughter stopped when more information appeared:
[SCP-3740 is a Class VIII reality warper and believed to be Ashur, main god of the Assyrian pantheon.]
[Capable of winds over 500 kph, weather manipulation, pressure control, fluency in many dead languages.]
Suddenly, no one could laugh.
Even Tony Stark leaned forward. "Hold on… that's actually powerful. Really powerful."
Colonel Rhodes crossed his arms. "Tony, you've fought aliens and robots, but trust me—don't underestimate a level-eight reality bender."
Even Tony had no comeback for that.
But then came the next line:
[SCP-3740 will believe anything. No matter what. Card tricks can convince him someone is a god.]
Everyone went silent again.
Then they exploded:
"What?!"
"No way!"
"Unbelievable!"
"This guy is really the Stupid God!"
Tony Stark pressed both hands to his face, shaking with laughter.
"James is a genius," he said finally. "A mad genius. He's basically trolling a cosmic-level idiot."
---
The Discovery of the Stupid God
Footage continued playing.
SCP-3740 had first been found in Turkey, drunk out of his mind, bragging about "incomparable cosmic power." When someone pushed him, he blasted a whole wall off a bar with wind power.
Eighteen people injured. Thousands in property damage.
The local police arrested him—until a Foundation agent took over.
Inside the light curtain, James walked beside O5-10, calm as always.
"How did you get him to believe your story?" O5-10 asked.
James shrugged lightly. "Simple. We convinced him the fight in the bar opened a time tunnel. We told him we were taking him back to his divine era so he could rule again. He never questioned it."
O5-10 blinked hard. "…He believed that?"
"Of course," James said. "He believes anything. That's why the Mount Olympus Protocol works."
Then James led them into an archive room. He picked up an old video tape.
"This recording," James explained, "is from Dr. Zyn's first test run after we activated the Olympus Protocol."
He inserted the tape.
---
The Interview Begins
The screen flashed, revealing the interior of SCP-3740's chamber—now designed like a Viking hall.
Wood walls. Torches. Furs everywhere.
And on a huge bearskin throne sat SCP-3740, drinking beer proudly.
The audience could not accept that this man—who looked like a young muscular human with black hair—was the legendary Ashur, god of sky and air.
Then Zyn walked into frame.
She bowed. "Hello, Ashur."
"Ah! Eleanora Thunder!" the god roared happily. "My beautiful and terrifying storm queen! Come, come!"
He called two guards—"Thaddeus! Artemor!"—who were normal security officers forced to pretend to be gods.
Even they bowed with stiff smiles, trying not to laugh.
Zyn managed a polite smile. "You flatter me, Ashur."
"Nonsense! You are magnificent! Show them your power! Summon the storm again."
Zyn rolled her eyes.
Then she clapped three times sharply.
PAH. PAH. PAH.
Instantly—water poured from the ceiling.
SCP-3740 sprang up in awe. "BEHOLD! A MIRACLE!"
Of course… it was just the sprinklers.
James had secretly arranged it.
Watching from outside the video, O5-10 looked at James.
"Seriously?" she whispered.
James nodded calmly. "The sprinkler crew works on my signal."
The audience exploded:
"No way!"
"He believed that?!"
"My nephew wouldn't fall for that trick!"
"He really is the Stupid God!"
Even Tony Stark nearly fell out of his chair laughing.
---
The God Falls for Everything
On screen, SCP-3740 was cheering wildly, acting like he had witnessed the birth of a new pantheon-level talent.
"Hahaha! Eleanora Thunder! You are second only to Solomon, who just yesterday showed me how he moved his thumb!"
The guards tried so hard not to burst into laughter that their faces turned blue.
Finally, SCP-3740 shooed them away.
"Leave us! Eleanora and I have important matters to discuss!"
Zyn swallowed hard. "Ashur… what matters?"
The god leaned forward dramatically.
"I should relish being in your presence, Eleanora."
Zyn froze.
The audience froze.
Even James off-screen raised an eyebrow.
Zyn forced a smile. "Ashur… I am cursed."
"A CURSE? WHO DARES?!"
SCP-3740 slammed the table so hard the wind knocked over his own chair.
He crashed to the floor, still shouting, "SHOW ME THE WICKED BEAST WHO HARMED YOU!"
Zyn squeezed her eyes shut and played along.
"It was… a goblin."
"A GOBLIN?!" SCP-3740 roared with absolute conviction.
"Yes. And the goblin stole my… um… private parts."
Even Lois off-screen burst into laughter.
Zyn glared at her like she would destroy her later.
But SCP-3740 took it completely seriously.
He shot to his feet, eyes blazing.
"I WILL CURSE THAT GOBLIN'S BLOODLINE FOREVER!"
A surge of wind exploded from him.
Flames flickered. Torches bent. Animal furs flew.
It was ridiculous and terrifying at the same time.
---
James Prepares for the Final Play
Watching the footage, the live audience forgot to breathe. James, standing beside O5-10, looked almost bored.
"This is how we maintain containment," he said calmly. "A narrative. A performance. A stage. And he plays his role perfectly."
Everyone stared at James as if he were a magician controlling a tornado with a stick.
The man who tricked gods.
The man who fooled a level-eight reality bender.
The man who made a main deity panic over a fictional goblin.
James.
Even Stark muttered, "This guy might be scarier than the god itself…"
And then the next line appeared on-screen:
[James prepares to personally confront the main god of the Assyrian pantheon.]
The entire world froze.
This wasn't just containment anymore.
This was the beginning of James vs. Ashur.
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