"You're not my Halyna, aren't you?
"No. You are older. Renewed. You have lived so many lives, little one. You are older than me, perhaps. The student and the teacher."
Ion gave Ieva a bitter smile. "If you are here, then that must mean that Adytum will fall."
Item #: SCP-001
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Per the Bridge Accords, SCP-001 is to be retained by a non-Foundation signatory. Non-Foundation personnel involved with the containment of SCP-001 are to ignore any attempts by the Foundation to retrieve the anomaly, and are permitted only to share research data with the Foundation. Foundation personnel involved with the containment of SCP-001 are reminded that O5 Command are not permitted to be made aware of the existence of SCP-001. Several proposed anomalies, both existing and fictional, are to be placed in the SCP-001 slot.
The Foundation allows whichever organization currently retains the anomaly the discretion of how they would like to handle Foundation personnel seeking access to SCP-001. Per the Bridge Accords, a signatory is only permitted to give away SCP-001 after a minimum retention period of one year. Per the Bridge Accords, all signatories save the SCP Foundation are not permitted to refuse being given SCP-001.
With a grunt, Ieva ripped the door off the pod. Inside was a decaying corpse, eyes still open behind the headset he was wearing. A glance at his badge indicated he was O5-5.
The O5 Command. Leaders of an organization that once sought to study Ieva and contain her, understand how she lived and did not live, and whether she posed a threat to them or not. Had Ieva known who he was, she would have undoubtedly devoured the man, glean what knowledge still existed within the corpse.
But Ieva's focus was not on the man, but the machine he inhabited. She took the man out, several tentacles cradling the body while others dug a hole in the ground. She laid the man down in the makeshift grave before dumping the soil back into the hole with little regard for the corpse.
She turned her attention back to the machine. Within seconds, she found the power button and turned it on. As the pod began powering on, Ieva took the headset and placed it over her eyes.
The darkness of the headset gave way to a man - impossibly young and old at the same time. He turned to Ieva and smiled.
"Ah, Miss Ieva. It has been several months since you found another pod."
"Old man."
"Do you intend to decommission this pod as well?"
Ieva nodded, her field of vision following the motion of her head. The man in the headset nodded along.
"Very well, Miss Ieva. What would you like to see?"
"Bring me to the last time I spoke with Orok." As the pod began vibrating and her headset began to explode into color, she whispered one more word.
"Please."
There was a time I envied you, my warrior queen. I envied your wrath, your freedom to express your disgust. I envied your power to bend the world to its knees by your will.
I see now that I only bound you by two chains unbreakable, those of anachronism and inexperience.
In another timeline, I would not have written you as one of my earliest works. I would have waited, waited to read more, to know more. Waited to truly understand the history that I spliced you into.
Your past is a mess, salvaged by those who I may never see again. Your future is uncertain, each word taking longer and longer to write. I am a worthless creator, and I am sorry that you were my creation.
You deserved a better author, someone who could follow up on promises and someone who could give you a satisfying end. Not someone paralyzed by indecision, cursed by my birthname to suffer as I live, whose only recourse is venting through writing.
You deserved a peaceful end, all those years ago when my cohort fractured and interest in you all but disappeared. You deserved a satisfactory end, a loosely held together narrative that weaved the story of a legendary empress of war. You deserved to slay the mage and the lich and the warrior-priest, all of whom I had written despite all their anachronisms to honor you as unstoppable. She-Who-Demands.
Instead, I failed you. I failed those who loved your power, and those who loved your title. I failed to deliver. For so long your tale was left unfinished. And now I have exhumed it.
And for what? For my own personal need? For my own self-discovery. What have you gained that I have provided, except a renewal of your misery? A dead lover? A dead family? Remorse of conscience?
I pity you, my warrior queen. For as we write what we know, I have written what I have known all my life.
I am the Bridge in the Rain, he who endures through times of hardship. And my dear, I am afraid I made you suffer as I have.
Every Ieva lusts for power. Every Ieva remembers the humiliation of the Daeva, a slave below the men of an empire lead by women. Every Ieva is selfish, jealous, flawed. She is a broken woman, one who acts in her own interest and no other.
You are that Ieva, but you are more. You have found love, you have found weakness, you have found more - you have found what it means to be part of something greater.
By your will, you have reshaped your curse into your power. No longer does Warmonger claim souls for the angels. You have placed them at an impasse: will they let you join Sarya in peace, or must they continue to watch as their curse keeps you out of their hands?
You, a mortal, have stalemated the gods.
So rise, Halyna Ieva. Rise, Theia Apollousa, She Who Destroys. You are the bow who punishes the arrogant, who defies those who dare look down on her.
Rise, my Titanocider.