The snow was still falling, but.
It floated, as if each flake had now forgotten the concept of gravity.
The keyboard, suspended above the anti-sound field, vibrated gently, its keys pressed by an invisible force.
Every word it typed on the fabric of the world twisted the snow, the air, space, and time.
The Virtues, normally serene creatures, felt something they had not felt since their existence: fundamental fear.
The keyboard continued.
[Come on, little caterpillar.
Become a butterfly.]
The letters, red-ochre, imprinted themselves in the atmosphere like glyphs, then dissolved into the very matter of reality.
SCP-469, still compact, retracted, curled up, shivered.
Then…
The outer wings lifted.
Very slowly.
The cocoon of feathers opened layer by layer.
Each layer detached, levitating in the perfect silence of the anti-vibration zone.
Red runes, printed by 001 into reality, circled these small wings like a blasphemous blessing.
Virtue A observed, its telepathic voice trembling:
A:
Do the words written… by this keyboard manifest in reality…
Virtue C:
C:
We had already captured 469, and it had to decide to help it.
Virtue E:
E:
Stay vigilant, we're not sure that with the addition 469 received from 001, its abilities still conform to the Foundation's containment file.
At the heart of the mass:
A humanoid embryo—made only of micro-feathers—lifted itself.
Its nonexistent arms twitched.
Its nonexistent face pulsed as if a breath wanted to pass through it.
And the keyboard wrote again:
[Butterfly, unfurl your wings.]
Before the horrified eyes of the Virtues, 469 unfolded.
EXPANSION 3: +4.2 m in height
EXPANSION 3: +7.8 m in circumference
The inner wings—larger, older, engraved with unknown signs—swirled around the embryo.
Then they reassembled into a torso, arms, a head…
The final form was not human.
Nor angelic.
It was an idea of an angel.
An idea that 001 rewrote as it pleased.
The cocoon fell.
And SCP-469 rose.
…
The present Virtues were all terrified but had to fight because, after all, they represented divine and moral power; they could not give up so easily.
The Virtues immediately formed a formation.
There were twelve.
Each halo shone pale blue.
Each pair of wings radiated pure gold.
Their presence alone made the snow on the ground bend, as if matter bowed to welcome them.
Virtue A transmitted:
A:
I want you to eliminate the concept of its appearance inside this barrier and apply gravitational pressure to limit its movement.
Virtue D responded:
D: What level?
C:
Deploy the gravitational chains, level seven would be best.
A:
Yes.
They placed their hands on the ground.
Twelve runic circles connected, forming a gravitational prison around SCP-469.
It produced no vibration.
No sound particle.
Perfect.
A cage of silent waves.
SCP-469 was violently pinned to the ground by gravity; it could no longer even move its multiple wings.
The Virtues were at maximum concentration now, maintaining the anti-sound barrier and gravity to prevent 469 from doing anything, but unfortunately, they had not taken into account another factor: it would not be that easy.
And the letters on the keyboard wrote:
[Butterflies do not like cages.]
The universe hiccuped.
And the cage disappeared—not just that, all the measures set by the Virtues vanished as if they had never existed.
Virtue E groaned mentally:
E:
"Impossible… what just happened?"
[Group chat]
Sera: Mikhael, this time it's serious, hurry to descend to Earth immediately.
Mikhael did not need to be told twice; he had already gathered a large unit of archangels and Virtues since 001's appearance, but as he was about to create a portal to Earth—
The keyboard wrote something.
The keys pressed in rhythm:
[Access denied.]
[Earth: locked.]
[Heavens: read-only mode.]
These three phrases engraved themselves into the space above the clouds.
And then…
A conceptual wave rose into the stratosphere.
Invisible but absolute.
A barrier—not physical, not energetic, not divine—but narrative.
The angels of Heaven tried to descend.
But their portals twisted.
Closed.
Mikhael:
I can't teleport nor use the portals. Hamiel, in the center of angelic displacement, the portals still function…
Hamiel:
No, the principalities are trying to repair them, but I don't think it can be done.
Gabriel:
My brother, wait for me, I will guide you to Earth.
Mikhael was relieved; for him and his units, the distance from Heaven to Earth would take 17 minutes. Said like that, it sounded impressive, but 17 minutes would be more than enough for SCP-469 to annihilate the Virtues fighting it. But Gabriel is known as the fastest entity after God, so much so that she has already been nicknamed <
After joining Mikhael and his units, Gabriel asked them to hold hands and they formed a chain, and as it accelerated instantly, they were already 384,400 km from Earth (Earth–Moon distance). She felt something was unable to continue as if there was a barrier.
Gabriel and Mikhael: holy shit
Mikhael then forcibly searched for a portal opening.
Mikhael focused all his energy.
He deployed six luminous wings, seeking an anchor point in the fabric of Earth.
The light engaged—
Then was overwritten.
By the keyboard.
[Denied.]
And the portal closed on Mikhael's face.
Even though the portal closed, Mikhael saw it was possible, so he thought of a plan.
The battle continued on Earth.
Twelve halos in a circle.
A dome of light.
Spears of pure energy, soundless, ready to pierce.
Virtue A:
A:
"Simultaneous attack. 45-degree angle. No vibrations.
Launch."
The twelve beams shot forth.
And SCP-469… dodged most of the spears with some difficulty; some hit, but the struck parts were filled by additional layers of feathers.
Then, with an almost graceful movement, the monster deployed forty wings at once.
They began to spin.
Not in the air. They emitted a 1 Hz infrasound, imperceptible to any living being, but for the Virtues, they heard it loudly.
The Virtues felt their halos lose form.
Their perceptions wavered.
Virtue B shouted telepathically:
B:
Pierce your own ears now!!!
Each Virtue pierced their eardrums in different ways, but most importantly, they no longer heard the sound emitted by 469.
In the chat:
Alastor: What a macabre and pitiful spectacle.
Mikhael: I don't know who you are, but know this—if you treat my soldiers as pitiful again, you will…
Gabriel: My brother, calm down, we must find a way to reach them, we don't have time to succumb to provocation.
Charlie: Alastor, how can you say such a thing?
Rosie: I'm sure he didn't really mean it, princess, and he's sorry for these words, right?
Alastor: Hummm… I'm sorry, I can admit I went too far…
Vox: Wow, who would have thought this jerk could say sorry? Guess you became a teddy bear since staying with this princess.
Alastor:…humm (murmurs)
Vaggie: Mr. Lucifer, could you not go to Earth? I know you're not authorized, but considering the situation…
Lucifer: No, I see what you mean, but Sera already gave me authorization to go to Earth. The time to capture the anomaly, then I would return to Hell… but I already tried, yet the portal always closed and teleportation is impossible.
Hamiel: So we have no way to reach them. If this unit is defeated, who can stop 469 from harming humans?
Ophaniel: But brothers, I think you forgot that you placed units of Virtues in several parts of the world because of spatial deformations, right? To my knowledge, they are still on Earth, no?
Hamiel and Mikhael:…you are right, brother, maybe there is still hope.
On Earth, the fight intensified more and more, and 001 didn't seem willing to stop helping 469.
The keyboard wrote, spinning:
[Butterfly dances.]
The dance began.
469 disappeared.
Not by speed.
Not by invisibility.
But because it changed its narrative page of existence.
A wing appeared behind Virtue H.
One beat.
And it was knocked out.
The angelic body fell silently to the ground.
Virtue C:
C:
"CONTACT! H is down! Alpha defensive formation!"
Too late.
469 reappeared at the center of the formation circle.
Its wings closed…
Then reopened like a trap.
Silent capture.
Virtue D was swallowed.
Simply… between its multiple wings, it screamed in pain, reinforcing 469.
Virtue E tried a light barrier.
469 brushed the barrier with a wing—
The barrier reformed into a butterfly and flew away.
Virtue E:
E:
"??!?!!!"
469 placed three wings on itself. And suffered the same fate as Virtue D.
Mikhael, trapped in space, desperately tried to contact units still on Earth and reach them.
He opened channel after channel.
But every message returned as:
[Error: Page occupied.]
[Error: Characters unavailable.]
[Narrative space restricted.]
Mikhael swore.
Mikhael:
"001… I know you hear me. Give me access! I must go!"
The keyboard—voiceless entity—wrote:
[You are not the protagonist of this scene.]
And Mikhael screamed in rage.
Only four Virtues remained: A, B, C, and G.
They gathered, halos merging, creating a core of pure energy, resembling a white star.
A:
A:
"Omega Option. No other choice.
We'll block it in conceptual suspension."
C:
C:
"We risk total erasure!"
B:
B:
"If we do nothing, it's the entire Earth that…"
They did not finish.
469 bowed slightly.
Like a dancer taking a final pirouette.
Then, with a wing movement, it fully deployed.
The keyboard wrote its last order:
[Butterfly… fly.]
And SCP-469 flew.
Not in the air.
Within the very matter of the world.
The four Virtues felt the void engulf them.
Their light dissipated silently.
Their existence was written… then crossed out.
Like a deleted sentence.
The snow continued to fall, but in the deformation zone, it had lost all meaning.
Flakes drifted in perfect silence, suspended in the air like particles awaiting judgment.
Foundation holograms broadcast the previous battle to all Virtue units.
New squads watched, incredulous, the images of the massacre: twelve Virtues annihilated silently by SCP-469, absorbed into its wings as if they had never existed.
Virtue Z, commander of the first reinforcement squad, clenched their fists.
Their telepathic voice vibrated across the field:
Z:
"We go. We must secure the anomaly."
No hesitation.
No fear.
They entered the anti-vibration field created by their fallen comrades.
Their golden wings created a protective halo.
But the air itself seemed to bend around SCP-469, anticipating every move.
Unfortunately, they would serve no purpose.
As they approached, 469's wings opened like theater curtains.
Each feather rippled, and they were all captured.
The Virtues screamed—or rather, their consciousness screamed.
469's wings were not merely physical: they translated reality into pure pain.
Each wingbeat inflicted a conceptual scream, a pain their bodies and minds could not endure.
Virtue X (mentally):
"AAAHHH… my… I… I can't…"
Instantly, the Virtues activated forced rest.
A secret ability known only to veterans: their consciousness withdrew into a latent state, suspended between existence and sleep.
The pain ceased, but their energy vanished. SCP-469 could no longer exploit their abilities.
And yet, it did not drop them randomly.
It placed them gently on the snow, like fragile feathers. They were not purely evil; in some way, it was even an angel.
Each Virtue remained intact but immobile, a body incapable of movement.
Several kilometers away, a woman was on the plateaus of France. She was here on vacation, assigned by Mikhael, her commander. This woman was a soul who had earned her place in Paradise. She had lived there for centuries and eventually became an archangel leading her own squad, which she had herself formed, composed only of Nephilim—children angels had with humans. The half-angels themselves, after death, remained in Paradise but could see what happened on Earth. And it was they who saw her—a woman who had sacrificed herself for her faith, a holy warrior, for her courage and strength. They obeyed her orders.
This woman bore the name Jeanne d'Arc. She and her squad would have to take action.