The moment the scene unfolded, the entire livestream audience was stunned into silence.
No one had expected Leon Lake to be the one delivering the report.
---
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Nick Fury stared at the screen, his expression tightening as he took in the sight of the Foundation Ethics Committee—cold, expressionless figures cloaked in shadow.
Beside them stood Leon, calm and composed as ever.
Fury couldn't help but wonder—what role did Leon play in this containment project?
Suppressing his unease, he turned his full attention back to the screen.
---
Inside the Foundation Hearing Room
The members of the Ethics Committee sat motionless, their silhouettes like statues carved from stone. Even the darkness behind them seemed to stir with the weight of their presence.
In the corner, the Minister of the Tactical Theology Department shifted nervously, eyes darting between the Committee and Leon.
Only Leon stood unwavering—his face serene, his tone detached.
> "The briefing you received earlier was accurate," Leon began evenly.
"Containment procedures require the ritual castration of one male and the consumption of one [DATA EXPUNGED]."
A low scoff came from one of the Committee members. The air instantly grew heavy.
But Leon didn't even flinch.
> "Rituals like this operate by repeating arbitrary standards," he continued, voice steady, "not by following divine laws grounded in science.
The belief that fulfilling these standards will yield a predictable result—that belief is what gives ritual its power. We give meaning to our own creations."
He paused, his eyes meeting those of the scoffing Committee member.
> "However," Leon said firmly, "a ritual cannot be entirely arbitrary. For it to work, it must resonate with its target. It must be appropriate. That is why these requirements exist."
Then, in a calm but chilling tone, he added:
> "Some gods can only be appeased with blood."
---
A heavy silence fell across the livestream.
The words echoed, weighty and terrible.
For the first time, the audience understood.
Those complex, absurd rituals weren't nonsense.
They were acts of appeasement.
Appeasement through sacrifice.
The Foundation knew from the start—
> Some gods can only be appeased with blood.
---
Back on Screen
Before the most uncompromising board in the entire Foundation, Leon Lake remained unshaken—calm, unbending, and resolute.
> "I understand your committee's distaste for such terminology," he said, "but the truth remains."
The Minister's anxious expression deepened, but Leon ignored him.
> "The Stag is a god," Leon said coldly, "and not one of Earth's gentle deities. The purpose of the ritual is to deceive him—make him believe we are more powerful than he is. That is how we seal him away."
The livestream exploded.
> "Wait—what? The ritual is to trick the Stag?"
"Are they insane?! You're talking about deceiving a Supreme God!"
"This plan is madness… absolute madness!"
"Only the Foundation would try to bluff a god."
"But seriously, how can a Supreme Deity fall for this?"
---
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters
Nick Fury's pupils narrowed sharply.
He had suspected as much.
From the moment he'd read the first containment draft, it had seemed more like a stage play than a scientific operation.
> So that's it, Fury thought grimly.
The ritual isn't just ceremony—it's psychological warfare. A divine bluff.
But could such a performance truly deceive a being of incomprehensible power?
The idea made his chest tighten.
Before the gods, humanity was still painfully fragile.
---
Back to the Hearing
A voice finally rose from the Ethics Committee.
> "Even if what you're saying is true," one member said coldly, "are the fifth and sixth rituals truly necessary?"
Leon didn't hesitate.
> "Some gods can only be appeased with blood," he repeated, his tone unwavering.
"Once a ritual is established, it cannot be altered or replaced. Changing it would mean dismantling the entire containment framework and starting over. We can't afford that. The die is cast."
The room fell silent again.
Starting over?
Impossible. Two days had already passed since SCP-2845—the Stag—arrived on Earth.
There wasn't enough time to create a new plan.
Leon's voice continued, steady and analytical:
> "Even if the ritual is enacted properly, if the Stag ever understands what we're doing, containment will fail completely. The entire facility, and everyone in it, will disintegrate in a cloud of hydrogen gas."
He paused, his gaze steady.
> "So let us be grateful that it cannot think."
---
The audience froze.
> "Wait—what? It can't think?"
"How can a Supreme God not think?"
"That's… terrifying in its own way."
But as the initial shock faded, they began to understand.
The bizarre rituals, the symbolic nonsense—it all made sense now.
They weren't communicating with a conscious being.
They were appeasing a force—a divine constant.
---
Leon continued his explanation, his tone methodical, as though reciting from a scientific paper.
> "This is an old god—one that does not make decisions. Decision-making is for creatures capable of uncertainty.
A god with such absolute power simply is. It exists, constant and immutable. Its actions are no different from gravity."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
> "When we designed this ritual, we intended to bind it to a behavioral pattern: it struggles against us, we struggle against it—and that eternal opposition becomes the lock that contains it.
So long as the ritual remains intact, we remain in equilibrium."
Leon's gaze hardened.
> "But if even one detail falters… the stalemate collapses. And the game is over."
---
The members of the Ethics Committee said nothing more.
The Minister stood pale and silent in the corner.
And across the countless screens of the Marvel world—
the audience sat frozen, breathless.
The realization had finally set in.
To the Foundation, appeasing a god with blood wasn't heresy.
It was procedure.
And Leon Lake…
was the man who dared to reason with the divine.
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