Roan roused from his grogginess and dazedly opened his eyes.
He slowly looked around and realized he was inside a luxurious cathedral.
This cathedral could only be described as truly magnificent. The dome overhead was constructed from massive panes of stained glass; light spilled down from the firmament, dyeing the interior in colors that could be called holy. The towering walls were covered in exquisite reliefs depicting a multitude of epic scenes, including images of saints and various angels.
The space within the cathedral could be described as vast; the pews could accommodate thousands of worshippers and believers. However, the most conspicuous feature was situated in the very center of the space, directly facing Roan: a colossal humanoid statue standing dozens of meters tall.
He was clad in golden armor, holding a flaming straight sword in His right hand and wearing a massive claw gauntlet on His left. His gaze was steadfast, His aura majestic.
...Let me think. Shouldn't I be in a safe house inside Three Portlands right now?
...Where on earth have I been sent?
He furrowed his brows.
Roan, twenty-two years old, was a transmigrator.
As a member of the legion of transmigrators, his landing point was clearly not as fortunate as his predecessors. Instead, he had arrived in a world teeming with anomalies and extreme danger—the world of the SCP Foundation.
However, after tremulously confirming that he hadn't immediately dropped dead due to the various forbidden information in his mind, Roan adopted a "since I'm here, might as well" mindset. He began to explore the anomalous world behind the veil, mingling with all manner of monsters and strange organizations, engaging in enthusiastic exchanges.
By his count, it had been five years since his initial transmigration.
Over these five years, the experience and insight he had gained had made Roan's mentality extremely resilient, allowing him to calm down quickly even in the face of such a bizarre encounter.
"Phew.."
With a shift of his will, Roan focused his full attention and mobilized the power he was most familiar with.
A power that could twist reality at will.
This was his greatest asset for surviving in this world of dancing demons since his arrival.
Roan was a Reality Bender!
As the name implied, this was an anomalous entity capable of changing and twisting reality through their own perception and willpower, achieving effects akin to making wishes come true within a localized range.
Even in the talent-packed world of the SCP Foundation such anomalous entities were extremely rare and dangerous. It could even be said that once discovered, they would either spend the rest of their lives in a containment cell or be directly executed by a GOC strike team; it was difficult to meet any other end.
Someone like Roan, who had roamed free on the outside for several years without incident, was already an exceptionally rare exception.
Oh, so I'm dreaming.
However, this was definitely not a normal dream. Roan could clearly sense the power constructing this dreamscape; it was extremely anomalous.
Even as a Reality Bender, he was surprised to find that he could not affect this dream in the slightest. Whether attempting to use his abilities to tear the dream apart or trying to create defensive weapons out of thin air, everything ended in failure. It was as if this dream were more stable than reality itself!
"Roan, you have come..."
A voice rang out, carrying overlapping echoes within it, as if accompanied by countless people singing hymns.
Who?
Roan slowly turned his head and saw the massive cathedral doors—large enough to allow a landship to pass through—slowly opening. A figure walked in from outside.
Appearing before Roan was a handsome youth with wheat-colored skin, long black hair cascading down to his waist, and a golden laurel wreath upon his head.
The youth was barefoot, draped in a white robe of Ancient Roman style tied at the waist with a grass rope. Aside from that, there were no other adornments; he could be described as completely plain.
Yet, despite this extremely plain attire, his entire being radiated a pure divinity that made one want to lose themselves in it, as if even looking away were a form of blasphemy.
"Please forgive me for being a mere mortal with eyes of flesh and shallow understanding."
Roan lowered his head and performed a respectful bow. "May I ask which deity stands before me?"
Ever since seeing the cathedral's environment, Roan had rapidly searched his memories, but unfortunately found nothing. The anomalous religious organizations he knew of—such as the Church of the Broken God, Sarkicism, the Fifth Church, and so on—simply did not match this cathedral or the youth who had appeared.
The youth arrived in front of Roan, his eyes calm and unruffled.
"...First of all, I am not a god, merely an ordinary human from Terra. There is no need for such reverence; you need only call me [Neoth]."
Seriously, bro.
The corner of Roan's eye twitched slightly.
Do You have any idea that the intensity of the Akiva radiation (SCP Foundation terminology, understood as the power of faith) on Your body is about to blind me? And now You're telling me You're not a god?
Roan had never heard of Akiva radiation at this level. He felt that even if the faith of all humanity on Earth were combined, it would be a drop in the ocean compared to this entity calling himself Neoth!
Empowered by faith of this magnitude, all the miracles recorded in human mythology could likely be easily achieved by Him.
And now, this entity was personally denying His own divinity, saying He wasn't a god?
Is this some new kind of bad joke?
However, what's a bit strange is, why does this name sound somewhat familiar to me?
Roan frowned and took another look at the attire of the youth before him.
Come to think of it, this attire also gives me a sense of deja vu, as if I've seen it somewhere before...
Just then, Neoth seemed to sense something, and a golden light flashed in his pupils.
Roan froze for a moment.
What was I just thinking about?
He silently cursed himself for getting distracted at such a time, refocused his attention, and cast aside the thought he had been on the verge of grasping.
"So, is there some important matter for which You have pulled me into this dreamscape today?"
Roan got straight to the point. "Although I am a Reality Bender, my ability level is only Level 2. My own Hume level, as well as the range and energy intensity I can influence, are quite limited. In fact, if caught off guard, a single sniper bullet would be enough to end my life."
"I may not know Your origins, but judging by this dreamscape You have constructed, I should mean nothing to You. If there is something that even You cannot accomplish, then I should be equally powerless."
"You deny your own potential, Roan."
The youth calling himself Neoth spoke calmly, "Aside from your identity as a Reality Bender, you possess another anomalous phenomenon. It is your greatest asset, and it has successfully helped you grow to your current state. My objective is precisely that."