> SCP: To Kill a Lizard > by uNkwOwn > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Memoirs of a Forgetful Scientist > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- SCP: To Kill a Lizard >>Log-in. >Scan ID Card. >ID Card Accepted. Analyzing... >O5 Detected. Enter Passcode: >>*************** >Welcome, Overseer. >>Access Recent Files On SCP-682. >Parsing... Done. Item #: SCP-682 Object Class: Keter Special Occurrences: SCP-682 has escaped from detainment. Source of disappearance is unknown; no known artifacts were acknowledged to have had interaction with SCP-682 within the last three months. Last contact with any life form was when a D-Class was compelled to punch SCP-682 in the jaw while under the influence of several pharmacy narcotics. SCP-682 promptly ate the offender and was chuckling for a substantial amount of time afterwords. Last known location of SCP-682 was in its detainment chamber on [DATA EXPUNGED], at [DATA EXPUNGED]. Further action to locate SCP-682 is required and is considered top-priority for all retrieval personnel. Addendum #1: [DATA EXPUNGED]. No sign of SCP-682. Assumed to be easy to spot despite the holiday in which the operation took place, but all units reported zero sightings. Surveillance unit with noted IQ of one-hundred and twenty attempted to fool executive officers with twenty-foot crocodile found in [DATA EXPUNGED] based on his own description of SCP-682, but failed to anticipate the possibility of others being both smarter and having seen the creature prior. Unit was immediately terminated from service, delivered to [DATA EXPUNGED] and injected with a Class-B amnesiac. Addendum #2: [DATA EXPUNGED]. After 34 hours of searching without pause, SCP-682 has not been found. No anomalies to report. SCP artifacts with reality-bending capabilities have been called into question and interrogation will begin shortly. Necessary precautions are to be taken at all times. Addendum #3: [DATA EXPUNGED]. Questioning of all suspected SCP objects have concluded and no viable results have arisen. In addition, no security breach was detected when SCP-682 escaped, but clearly must exist. Actions to clear the facility of all possible vulnerabilities in the safety and sanctity of the SCP Foundation have begun. Addendum #4: [DATA EXPUNGED]. No security breaches were detected. Whatever allowed SCP-682 to escape is dangerous, powerful and is to be classed as "Keter". Both subjects are to be apprehended as soon as possible once located and contained. No further additions are forthcoming unless any new developments come into play. >>Author ID. >Author: Dr. ****** ****** >>Send Author Message. >Type: >>Doctor, I don't believe I need to remind you that all O5 personnel need to be able to read all documents unedited, at any time, all the time, correct? Otherwise, none of us would have enough details. Less details equals less efficiency. And less efficiency equals more deaths. Therefore, less details is easily equatable to more deaths. Basic geometric logic, I believe. Law of Syllogism. It's been a few decades. Perhaps a century. Hah. You'd probably remember, being so young. Or forty-six. More or less the same thing. That was a joke. All joking aside, though, I do hope that you will remember to re-analyze your security measures in the future for your reports and sort out their Visitor's Privilege protocols for personnel of clearance level 5 and up. I have reminded you, and I have been keeping a list, six times already. If you do not, you will be charged with the obstruction of duty of the single highest ranking member of the SCP Foundation. And that is grounds for termination, as I'm sure you're aware. That, or transfer to the Ethics Committee. Your choice. And don't think to say that I cannot do that. That I am "just" an O5. Yes, I have read your psychological reports. Yes, I have heard your grievances that you thought no one important could possibly have heard. I do so with everyone. It's half of what I do. Well, let me give you a bit of advice. Do not perceive yourself to know others. Because, truthfully, who does? No, I am not just an O5. I am not the Ethics Committee, either. Who am I, if not both entities? Simmer on that, if you will. I've been very lenient, Harold. It's time for you to step up your game. That was not a joke. >>Done. >>Format Message With Outline 2. >Would you like to attach a signature? Yes/No >>Yes. >What would you like your signature to be? >>O5-1. "This isn't good," the lunar princess observed, looking over their "prize". "Indeed it is not, sister of mine," the solar princess replied, eying the unicorns who held their "prize" in stasis with concern. "Three guards severely injured, two in a coma, six unicorns burned out, and several million bits worth of property damage," the darker alicorn remarked. "And several unique pacification fields to keep it down. A few spells to halt its viral adaptivity to magic and the energy shield. Yes. Quite problematic, sister." The white alicorn furrowed her brow in thought. "At least it didn't appear in the alter. Cadence has been working so hard on her wedding." "Yes... she has..." "Luna? Are you alright?" Luna looked equally deep within the recesses of her mind. "Yes. Quite alright, 'Tia. Just a few preoccupations, nothing too urgent." She turned away. "I'm afraid I must return to my watch over Canterlot. Night is always the time most ripe for those who wish to seed chaos." "I won't keep you," Celestia said. Luna turned to leave. "Actually, Luna?" Celestia called after her. She turned back. "Could you tell Captain Armor to report to the Chamber of the Elements? We might need his opinion. And, in light of the circumstances, his opinion might be the most important of all." "Of course, sister," Luna said. She exited the Chamber through the balcony, spreading her wings and letting the wind carry her to her destination. Celestia used her time to study the creature hovering in the center of the hall, held by two dozen unicorns maintaining a hyper-powerful magic barrier focused and molded to the frame of the thing. It looked almost reptilian, with teeth that looked as long and deadly as stalactites. Its skin was melted off by what looked like a potent acid, bones and open flesh showing from the wounds. Its eyes darted about the room, somehow looking dead in emotion and alive in action at the same time. How it had the incredible fortitude to keep from crying out in what must have been unbearable agony was beyond her. It certainly was no generic river alligator. It had ferocity that would have made a dragon cry, they told her. It was a demon straight from Tartarus, growling horrible, impossible sounds that made them want to jump and crash through the stained-glass murals of the Elements for escape. When she expressed mild doubt on her royal guard's descriptions, she was simply told that she wasn't there. She couldn't have known. But how docile it seemed now, not making a sound, nor movement. She regarded it calmly, staring and examining it until it too stared at her unerringly. It didn't need to close its eyes. And, as she looked further, her conclusion became more and more true. It definitely was no mere creature. Those eyes weren't dead at all. She had misjudged them completely. They were cold. Calculating. Those were intelligent eyes. "You stare at me, thinking yourself a master of perception, yet you know nothing." Celestia jumped back a good ten feet in surprise, slowing her descent with her wings. Her heart rate jumped up about twenty beats. "You... you can talk, as well?" "Your ignorance is almost blinding. You find the concept of a creature so dissimilar to yourself holding sentience incredibly unique, yet you hold yourself like that of a god who has seen all and experienced much. Your very skin reeks of incompetence bordering on arrogance. I will rend that skin from your body." "Even if I was, my guard is not. They have seen to your capture; therefore, your words are empty." "I apologize if I do not live up to your expectations garnered by a few minutes' conflict. Rest assured, I will rectify those failed expectations shortly." Its voice was deep and male, seeming to come out of the very walls. The unicorns holding it became noticeably distressed. "What do you want? Why are you here? If you intend trouble, you can be assured; none of that will happen here. Am I understood?" she spoke succinctly, with force. It chuckled hideously. "You think you are enough to stop me? You, equine? Good. You are welcome to try. It gives me a head-start. And a reason." "Head-start on what?" she asked hesitantly. "Your genocide." "And what good reason would there be for that?" It chuckled again. "You attacked first." > Hear Me Roar > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- SCP: To Kill a Lizard >>Log-in. >Scan ID Card. >ID Card Accepted. Analyzing... >D-Class Detected. Welcome, D-558. >>Access Dossier: Doctor Howard Tobias. >Parsing... Done. Employee: Doctor Howard Tobias. Employee #: 221-B. Access Level: 2/682-698. Service Length: 24 Years. Service End: [DATA EXPUNGED] Reason For Termination: Failed to follow standard security access procedures for written articles about the objects with which he had been entrusted. Charged with eight counts of the obstruction of duty. Injected with a Class-B amnesiac and sent to [DATA EXPUNGED] to live out the rest of life span uninterrupted. Further Foundation interaction is not permitted. Service Record: [DATA EXPUNGED] Psychological Evaluation: [DATA EXPUNGED] Physical Evaluation: [DATA EXPUNGED] Further Notes: [DATA EXPUNGED] >>Log-off. >>Close. Captain Shining Armor of the Equestrian Royal Guard was on his way to send his sister a letter when he was bade to the Chamber of the Elements. He was confused, to say the least. Luna had been exceptionally vague about what Celestia had needed him for and even more so when asked why half his guard had been relocated to the same area. From a militant's perspective, he was heading into a possibly compromised facility with little-to-no intelligence, little-to-no backup and little-to-no communication with others should things go wrong. Sure, there was Celestia, but it was his job to ensure her safety -- not the other way around. As he stalked down the halls, instinctively wary due to the known terrorist threats to Canterlot, he noticed a distinct lack of any stray staff members. Every section of the wing had been completely abandoned. Maid carts were left deserted, beds unkempt, the candles barely glowing; everything had been dropped in a hurry. A slow, chilling breeze made him shiver in his warshoes. His migraines persisted, sending brutal pain through his skull and up his horn even then. Eventually, he reached the impressive doors to the Chamber of the Elements. Jewel-emblazoned replicas of the Elements of Harmony were embedded into the fifteen-foot tall marble doorway at several times life-size. Slowly and carefully, he pushed the door open with a creak and peered cautiously in. Inside, he found the most horrifying thing he had ever laid eyes on. Putting duty before his errant instincts of flight, he rushed to the side of his princess, worried for her well-being. "Princess! Are you okay? What happened?" She flared out her wings protectively. "I'm fine, Captain. And nothing has happened. For the moment." She glanced back at the reptile hovering behind her. "What is that?" Shining Armor slowly made his way up to the source of his awe, examining it. "I have no idea. It has said nothing as to the nature of its existence." The unicorn was about to say something in surprise but was cut off by Celestia. "And yes, Captain, it can talk." He found that hard to believe. And even if it could, he found it hard to believe that it was very intelligent. "Okay, ma'am. What's the situation? What do you need me for?" "This creature effectively disabled a high portion of the guard and poses a significant threat to the sanctity of Canterlot and its citizens. And it might prove to be an ample wedding crasher, if it is allowed. I have called you here for your expert opinion and advisement on the situation. So, do tell me, Captain: how should we proceed?" Shining Armor didn't have a clue. "We should probably question it before any real action is taken," he suggested. "That is probably wise." "Did you try getting information from it forcefully? With magic?" "No, but there would be no use. I tried to do so not five minutes before you arrived, but I was swiftly booted out. The creature's mind was like a fortress. I could not hope to make any progress." That certainly said something. If Princess Celestia couldn't break the creature's mind, then what hope did he have? "I guess we'll be doing this the old-fashioned way, huh?" "Indeed you will. Proceed on your own judgement, captain. I must be off. The diplomatic waves that are sure to follow the wedding will be large, indeed. I am required at meetings with both the zebra legion and the griffon horde within the hour. On different sides of the globe. Report back to me when you are finished, Captain Armor." She was about to teleport away when she stopped to tell the stallion something else. "Oh, and Captain, when Twilight and her friends arrive, please refrain from telling them about this incident. They are sure to have enough problems as is." "Twilight!" he exclaimed, suddenly remembering what he was doing before. "I have to tell her that I'm getting married! She's not going to be happy that I put it off for so long..." Celestia looked at him with a hint of scorn, questioning his ability to prioritize given the severity of the situation. "Captain? I've already messaged my student and her friends about the wedding. You don't need to." "I know," he panicked, unbefitting of a captain of the royal guard, "but she has to hear it from me!" His blatant fear of letting down his sister in any way would've been somewhat cute to Celestia. That is, if it weren't getting in the way of duty. "Captain, I do believe you have a bigger problem at hoof." She pointed at the reptile in the back. "Y-yeah. That's right. I'll get on that, ma'am," he saluted. "I have no doubt that you will. Good luck, my little pony. " It was what would happen when he did so that worried her. She teleported away. All the while, SCP-682 had been silently observing their exchange and was wondering what to do. Not in terms of breaking out -- there was no wondering to be done there -- but, surprisingly, what his disposition would be when the inevitable deluge of never-ending questions from the mountains of insipid imagination came. Should he be reserved or should he be mildly outgoing? Should be be aggressive or silently malicious? For that matter, why was he thinking about this? He never spared a single brain cell to the mere mention of such a trivial manner. What powers were at play that made him care about his own attitude towards others? Already, they began to make him feel more and more indifferent to their appearances. How horrifying. The alicorn was something interesting, he gave her that. Not much of what he said to her was proven to be true, but if anything was, bonus points. The arrogance was there, though. Definitely. From a lifetime of being unchallenged and virtually indefeasible. He itched to rectify the existence of that blemish of a life-form. And that unicorn... Captain Shining Armor... what could he learn about him? Sharp-eyed naturally, 682 took little time to take in every possible detail about the newcomer. He had already done so with everyone else in the room. It was a strange thing, his mind. It could be called a mind palace, but that was both incredibly insulting and unsatisfying in every aspect as a definition. It was more like a fortress, as Celestia had put it so concisely. One the scale of the Great Wall of China. And the creature knew every square inch of it perfectly. His "throne room" consisted of his current, and most important, memories, and everything else was stored in the walls of the fortress. Such a vivid representation did wonders for his total mental ability, but he gained an astonishingly poetic manner of speaking involuntarily when he chose to speak at length at all. Or when he wasn't shouting rage-induced obscenities towards his prey. He would have much preferred it to be otherwise, but that was something he just couldn't help. His thoughts on Captain Shining Armor were as follows, compressed from a time-frame of two seconds. Dent on armor above left shoulder blade; training accident likely. State of guards nearly complacent, meaning that most of the action they see is sparring. Dent very deep, meaning he was hit hard and was given a slight injury because of it. Feasible weak point. Rest of the armor looks fine and undamaged, meaning that captain takes good care of his armor and that event happened recently. Mane and coat clean and moisturized, indicating a sense of good hygiene or a special occasion. Given the discussion of a wedding, latter is most likely. Centered crest on the front of armor is unique and clearly not part of uniform. Celestia's sun mark on flank suggests that all members of species bear similar marks, therefore the crest must be the unicorn's mark. Little to no scars, supporting hypothesis that military is in a state of disuse. SCP-682 suddenly had a feeling of shame that he was captured so easily. Manner is largely professional. Relatively competent. Attachment to family and fear of the reaction of sister shows a weakness of will unsuited to any warrior. Likely to form an excuse for his lack of sending letter, but more from the fact that he was given an order than from his cunning. Morally driven. Another vulnerability. Unicorn, meaning he must have access to the same reality-bending forces other unicorns have access to. Captain, meaning he must be better at it than most. Coercing himself into the position is all but out of the question due to his nature. And, lastly, his current emotion as he turns to face me. Fear. As to be expected. The unicorn walked towards and around him, observing and watching his every action. 682 refused to move an inch. After six laps, Shining came to a stop in front of his cage, staring at him intently. "Well? Come on, then! Talk!" He stayed silent. "Look, the Princess said you could talk." His lips never parted. Shining sighed. "Look, you're just going to stay in there if you don't. So, talk!" Truth be told, half of what 682 wanted was to be left in silence. The other half was to kill everyone in the room. But just then, he felt something. It had been there since he arrived, silent, but it just made a fatal error: it thought that he wouldn't notice. It made the tiniest of blips and he caught it. There it was. He was feeling... well, he didn't know exactly what he was feeling. Genial? Amiable? If it was possible to feel receptive to social activities and be annoyed about it, SCP-682 was feeling it. It was almost as if that thing was forcing him to feel pleasant. A passive-malignant parasite, if one wanted to be pretentious about it. It was subtle, but it was there. It was so unlike the alicorn's intrusion that he had barely noticed the parasite until it had implanted its roots firmly in his head. Plus, it was impossible to be rid of with the rune they placed on his prison. For now. "What about?" he rumbled out, albeit reluctantly. Shining Armor jumped back, confused that thunder had just come alive and started talking to him. Then he realized that what he said had been obeyed. "Oh! Um..." He racked his brain for questions. He made a gesture for a guard to write whatever he was saying down. "What are you?" "Angered. Irritated. A multitude of other things." "That's not what I meant." "Then say what you mean." Shining Armor grimaced. "What is your species?" "You do not need to know." "What if I said I did?" "Then I hope you are prepared to debate this question for a long time." The captain wisely chose to skip that one. "Do you have a name?" 682 took a moment to think about it. He certainly didn't want to give the one that the Foundation had given him. He had had enough of the designation as it was. He didn't have a given name. "No." "None? None at all?" "None I am proud of." "Oo-kay. I guess we'll call you The Pugnacious Lizard, then." The equine smirked. He could go ahead. 682 had jars upon jars of disdain and self-control. "What are you? A male... female?" He was rather fond of the male pronoun, but he didn't have a real "gender," per se. "Neither. I am not restricted to such an inane prison as a gender." "Got it." He really didn't. "Where are you from? How did you get here? You apparently just appeared in the center of the room, according to this." "Where I originally came from is none of your concern. And teleportation was obviously the answer if you cared to exercise a bit of non-retardation." Shining Armor did his best to avoid the fact that he was getting verbally abused by what was, in essence, a giant, talking lizard. He also tried to avoid the weaponized tension that was quickly filling the air. "Who teleported you?" "I do not know." "Have an idea?" "Perhaps you should search within your own hierarchy for that answer." That chilled him. Was the reptile implying that one of their own had brought him here? If so, that was a major security breach, and one that had to be investigated immediately. The captain straightened up and told the guardspony to bring him his clipboard. He gave it a quick once-over before telling 682, "That'll be it for today. I'll be back tomorrow with some more questions," and walked away. Unbeknownst to him at the time, SCP-682 would come to greatly enjoy the following day. Not for the fact that Shining Armor came back -- he never did; he had bigger problems, which was saying something -- but for a different reason. A rather "fickle" reason. The sound of crashing debris and screaming ponies quickly became prevalent to SCP-682's ears. And so did the smashing of stained glass, shortly after. It had been at least a day since Shining Armor had last spoken to him. Perhaps longer. The containment had been boring, but it was a welcome change in comparison to being trapped perpetually in a tub filled with hyper-reacted acid. Some people, who probably were masochists, in retrospect, sometimes wondered what acid felt like. The best description one could possibly give to someone who had never felt acid of that caliber was this: it felt vaguely reminiscent to skinning yourself with a butter knife and then taking a bath in lemon juice that was microwaved on high for three hours. Which is to say, not good. Therefore, a few hours of hovering in the air without interruption was very, very nice. He had felt the barrier getting weaker for a while now. No guards had come to replace those currently stationed. This told him three things: one, the wedding was either happening now or happening soon. Two, the unicorn was more important in pony society than he thought. And three, the alicorn was stupider than he thought. She shouldn't have mistaken him for the lesser threat. Whatever she thought was the greater one was nothing in comparison to the havoc he could cause. It wouldn't be long before he could overpower the energy field and escape. A few hours, at most. Six, maybe. Then the massive coup d'état happened. He retracted his guess. All the murals burst into shards and shot inwards at once, catching a few of the unicorns with nasty cuts. Half of the guards turned to see their bug-like aggressors swoop in from the jagged portals, firing green energy bolts from their mangled horns and crunching down upon their enemies as they landed. Half strength. A few more turned their attention and tried to fight back. Bones snapping. Groans of pain. More sounds to add to the cacophony. Fifteen-percent strength. The attackers were equine-shaped in appearance, with eyes and wings more suited to an insect's. They had holes in their torso and legs traveling straight through their bodies so that one could see through them if they wished. They had no skin and bones, clearly, as they instead had a black exoskeleton that could withstand the bulk of what nature had to throw at them. The creatures' mouth opened to glimmering sets of razors and knives that could easily chew through any organic material with ease. As they slaughtered the surprised guards one by one, the reptile had multiple surges of mixtures of both relief and hatred as the barriers in his mind lifted, and with it, the runes halting his adaption. Finally! Here was a creature he could hate freely, without that abhorrent parasite holding him down! Wait... no. The damned thing was still there. He still couldn't bring himself to the same level of loathing with the ponies. Oh, well. One victory at a time. With the infestation in his mind pushed back, he cut his losses and sealed off the breach in his castle quickly. He could already feel it poking around again. Five-percent. The last unicorn remained admirably -- a whole four seconds before he was killed! But there was one thing the changelings failed to take note of in their assault on the guardsponies: they were holding something that they didn't want dropped. Zero-percent strength. SCP-682 fell from his prison and immediately crushed two changelings with a mighty WHAM! The floor chattered with the force of the blow. He caught one with his claws and stomped on another, relishing the satisfying crunch they made as they broke beneath him. They tried to run away, frantically, but he was like Cerberus itself. Except faster. And a million times as deadly. All they got for their efforts was a chomped-on comrade, which, to be fair, helped them a little bit. The reptile blanched at the taste for just a moment before his taste buds informed him that it wasn't an issue anymore, and he soon continued after them. They had gotten as far as the doors now, but they wouldn't escape. It didn't matter if they got outside. They couldn't escape now that he was free. Speaking of outside, 682 noted that the city was decimated. The invading forces clearly weren't worried about collateral damage. Lampposts were on fire, buildings were on fire, foals were on fire; everything was on fire, to be frank. The invaders must have brought a propane tank each, or something, which was plausible, seeing as there was quite the amount of them. An insectoid equestrian species with the possibility of a hive. For lack of a better word, neat. The fleeing force actually did manage to get outside, but he was right behind them. What SCP-682 saw whilst in pursuit joyed him. It was an entire platoon of the insects, mockingly costumed as and assaulting six ponies. And the ponies were beating them. That was rich. He could tell who the insects were from the ponies easily. Only the lowest of lifeforms could be fooled by such a low show of illusory trickery. Bugs, that were also horses, that could shape-shift. That, right there, was pure gold. He aptly and correctly named them "changelings." He let out the loudest roar he could muster, which shattered the rest of the city's windows, unfortunately. The ponies' eardrums, however, by some form of miracle, remained intact. Huh. Learn something new every day. Everyone stopped and turned towards the source, only to find him: the creature that was to be burned in their nightmares for years to come. He could have let out one of the thousands of witty one-liners that his brain thought up, but he wasn't that pretentious. Or vain. He settled on a low growl and charged the group of changelings. Much changeling excretion was emptied that day. > The Canterlot Wedding > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- SCP: To Kill a Lizard Twilight Sparkle and company were running on fumes. The battle had been raging for scarcely an hour and they were already tired. They were six mares from Ponyville -- not the Equestrian Regulars. And it was showing. Pinkie repeatedly found her cannon empty as she scavenged the fields for confetti to reuse and fire again. Rainbow Dash's famed flying prowess grew sloppier and sloppier as time ran on and the battle grew thicker. Even Applejack's seemingly endless pool of endurance ran dry. As for Twilight herself, the treasure troves of magic on which she had grown to rely her whole life ran depleted. Her spells now resembled that of a sparkler rather than a stick of dynamite. The changelings were unrelenting. They fought with a ravenous hunger that left them lacking in skill, which was good for the ponies, but they had the numbers. The ratio of changelings to ponies must've been eight to one, if not more. They were a swarm, for every definition of the word. The six's morale dropped dangerously as they found themselves questioning their every move. Every changeling could be a friend, and every "friend" could be a changeling. As a Rarity-changeling blindly charged Twilight, she ducked and rolled out of the way just in time to catch a wandering pink hoof that sent her sprawling to the floor. Another clone absent-mindedly trampled her in an attempt to get at Applejack, who subsequently sent it squealing over the railing. The unicorn wheezed and coughed in pain as she struggled to rise to her hooves. Luckily, Fluttershy, kind as she was, rushed to her friend's side and helped her up. Rainbow tackled an identical changeling that tried to get at her winged friend. "We... can't do this..." Twilight said weakly. "Oh, come on, Twilight!" Rainbow cut in whilst upper-cutting another insect. "We just gotta go a little longer! We have to go a little longer! What'll happen if we don't?" "I don't know," Twilight replied quietly. "But I do know this: if we don't get help soon, we won't last long enough to see if we win or not." "Um, Twi'? I don't think help'll be comin' any time soon," Applejack informed her, seeing a few armored ponies try to push forward through the streets and promptly fail. "We're alone," Fluttershy whimpered. "Oh, I don't know, guys," Pinkie excitedly told them, tensing in anticipation. "I think somebody really special is gonna come by in three... two... one..." An impossibly loud roar erupted from behind them like the equivalent of a hundred guitar amplifiers on full-blast. Everything and everyone in the city grew silent and turned slowly to the source, half of them fainting at the sheer horrific sight of it. It looked like Pinkie's alligator had taken a swim through steroid-mixed radioactive sludge -- scorches, mutations and all. It was at least twenty feet long and ten feet tall, standing. Its skin was cut and burned away, revealing its flesh and making it look like some sort of zombie-gator. As the time ticked on, however, it lost the description as it healed before their very eyes. The reptile's head was long and angular, with teeth that they glimpsed for but a moment before its mouth closed. Many of the ponies present related them to a shark's set of teeth, though sharper and longer than they had ever seen. Its claws made their minds instinctively drift to darker parts of their imaginations, such is how menacing they were. Each respective claw was approximately a foot in length, leading to an even bigger foot of a different kind. Its tail could have killed a room's worth of ponies with a single, leisurely swipe. Pure nightmare fuel, the creature was. "Girls?" Twilight started. "Yeah?" The remaining five called out, the only ones to do so. She centered in on the voices. "Brace yourselves." And that was the only warning they got before she teleported the group from the battlefield and away from the lizard. ---------- They materialized in the Canterlot Gardens, their stomachs churning and their eyes wobbling from the unexpected teleport. Fluttershy lost it into the bushes. Only Twilight had herself completely composed, if only for the sole fact that she had done the spell a thousand times before. "What the heck was that thing?" Rainbow asked, gasping. "I don't know, but we need to get back there right now." "What? Why?" Rarity half-objected. "If we can't get to the Elements, we're all doomed!" Twilight exclaimed to her friend. "Now, here's the plan, girls. Gather 'round." Everyone gathered, except for Fluttershy. She got up from the bushes. "I remember there being an alley right here that should take us directly into the servant's entrance to the castle," Twilight said as she drew a diagram in the dirt. "Um, Twilight?" Fluttershy voiced from outside the tight circle. "From there, we should be able to find our way to the indoor entrance to where the Elements are kept." "Girls, this is important." "That sounds like a good plan, Twilight, but what about the changelings? How many ponies have they replaced already? And how many of those are castle staff?" Rainbow Dash asked. "Girls, seriously." "That's a good question, Rainbow," Twilight started. "The entrance is generally lifeless, so there won't be much in the way of-" "Girls!" Fluttershy shouted, mustering up a shout loud enough to be heard. The five ponies turned to their friend. "What?" The yellow pegasus pointed behind her at the growing crowd of changelings. "They found us." "Aw, applesauce." ---------- SCP-682 barreled towards the mass of changelings, nothing held back. It was just pathetic. The aggressors were all too dumbstruck to notice that their quarries had teleported away, and they paid for it. Dozens were blown clean off the balcony on the first charge, with another dozen felled by the mere backlash of his mighty tail. 682 caught seven with the first stomp and ate an entire row the first chance he got. It was a slaughter. In seconds, the entire horde of changelings was decimated. Yet, another wave came to replace it. Unaware of what their fellow hivelings had faced, the horde rounded one of the many skyscrapers of Canterlot before coming to a complete stop in horror. Hundreds of changelings smashed into each other, unable to stop their momentum. Though the urging of their queen was ever-insistent in their minds, the aura this creature emanated was that of pure menace. There was really only one other option. Turn tail and flee. And as they went, a voice that they would forever remember roared after them, "COWARDS!" He was on a roll. His bloodlust had to be sated. He characteristically burst down to the lower levels of the city, where most of the conflict was taking place. Whoever got in his way was a goner, changeling or no. And that damned parasite couldn't do a thing about it. Guards fought, changelings hid and civilians fled. And not a single thing they did helped. With every brutal step 682 took, irreparable damage was inflicted. Whether the damage be injurious to the living or to the buildings was varied. A detachment of guards, rallied from the ruins, attempted an attack, but were swatted away absent-mindedly with a scaled tail. A few survived, but only barely. And not for long. Sprinkles of the invaders in the streets were quickly vacuumed by a ravenous maw, uncaring for what entered it. It was unstoppable. It was impossible for him to be stopped, now. The more he ate, the more his strength returned. And he didn't see any Foundation here to stop him, either. He almost laughed aloud in a fit of crazed glee. He was, in essence, free to do as he pleased. And all he wanted was to kill, destroy and maybe kill some more. But, then, he felt something. An influx of energy behind him, rapidly growing in intensity. That wasn't good. He frantically searched for something to hide himself in. The power scaled to the force of a nuclear bomb. 682 tried some shrubbery. The entirety of Russia's nuclear power. A house? The combined nuclear ability of Russia and the United States. This was going to hurt. BOOM! A bright light burst from the castle wedding chamber, carrying the changelings along with it. As it drifted closer and closer, SCP-682 braced himself for the worst. He tensed his body. His claws dug into the ground. It came. Almost effortlessly, the massive wave of power threw him across the city, ripping his claws out from his body and even one of his feet. As luck would have it, his angle of trajectory planted him straight into the path of some statue of some famous wizard or another. This was going to hurt, too. The lizard slammed face-first into the cold, hard marble, its enchantments holding. The orb of energy still pressed as hard as it could against him, driving him harder and harder against the statue, painfully ripping away his acquired energy like an unerring black hole. Roused by the influx of magical energy, the parasite in 682's mind awoke. It felt itself swell with the power of love, giving it just enough power to renew the attack on 682's mind. It blasted through his fortress' impenetrable walls, infecting all his mind in seconds. It was stopped only by the final chamber in the palace, with mental reinforcements consolidated to an almost unrealistic amount. The effects were instantaneous. Though he didn't know how, 682's mind had been corrupted. He... didn't hate anyone. His hate was gone. Everything that gave him power was gone. SCP-682 let out the most pained wail he had ever let slip from his mouth, in mourning. His hate was gone. All of it. Just gone. Wait... no. Not all of it. Oh, it would pay. Whoever made the damned thing would pay. He doubled and tripled the defenses on the most inner sanctum of his mind, determined to keep the plague from gaining another inch. He had fought with gods and demons far more formidable than this. He would not lose. He never lost. Outside his mind, the magical assault raged on until he was too weak to even move. By the time it was gone, the invasion had long since been routed, and the wedding concluded. Hundreds of ponies had been sent out for damage control. It was not long before they found him, and it was announced that he would be taken before the Princesses of Equestria. He simply prayed that he would be enough of himself to speak to them.