I flew across Manhattan again. Back towards the British Broadcasting building.
Even while hundreds of meters in the air, I could see how there were multiple flesh monsters crawling up the sides of the skyscraper by breaking the glass and then extending a protrusion into the floor before pushing itself up to the next story.
Needless to say, I couldn't allow that. So I dipped down and smashed into them at a speed faster than every sports car in existence.
A single flyby was all that was required as I knocked down all those collections of corrupted biomass. They fell and splattered against the ground, screaming, and calling for help as they slowly reconstitute themselves, pulling each piece back together. Making themselves whole again.
I flew back into the hole I made. Peeking inside the studio, I found everyone mostly in the same spot.
"Alright, come on, let's go. Next flight."
I said when I entered, thumbing the doorway behind me while placing the other hand on my waist.
Picking up four more people, I flew back to Queens and deposited them all in the basement. There weren't any tearful reunions like last time between Katherine and Stuart. There were only greetings and a bit of somber sobbing as it finally hit home for some of the studio staff that their family were likely all dead and had been turned into those things outside.
Realizing that it's getting a bit cramped in here with close to a dozen people, I postponed my next collection flight and opted to break down the walls between the current townhouse and the next one over.
Regaining lordship of Quetzalcoatl's Authority over the wind, I peeked into the nearby house and found that there was no one inside. No humans or any of those monsters.
Oddly enough, the insides of the drywalls on the first and second floors are really filled up. Like, how much insulation does the owner of this house want?
I got down and crushed the handle of the main door before forcing it open. Then, I hovered a bit above the floor and checked the basement, locking the door behind me. Just like the one beside it, there weren't any windows here, bathing everything in pitch black to the normal human eye.
That was until I flipped the light switch and found that at the center of this basement was a large table. On top of that table filling every inch of it was a diorama of a beach and cliff on one side and a bunch of grey metal landing ships ferrying soldiers across the fake ocean.
Is this supposed to be a diorama of the D-day invasion?
I decided to leave it alone. Instead, I approached the wall that separated the safe house and here.
How should I go about this? Plasma is right out. Again, I'd burn everything down with plasma. So then, physical.
Pulling a fist back, I swung it.
"..."
The fist went right through the wall with no problem. Bricks crumbled as cement broke into dust.
I heard a scream.
"Everything alright?" I called out to them as I quickly took my arm out of the wall.
"We're fine!" Stuart replied, "Everyone just got a little surprised that's all."
With my fist right through the wall, I started pulling my arm down against the rest of the barricade.
Dust and debris ebbed out as my arm carved a long line down the wall like it was a hacksaw. Everything crumbled before my strength, and since I could fly I had unlimited leverage to use that strength.
Almost reaching the floor, I stopped before making another hole nearby at the same height as the previous one.
Repeating the same process, I lastly walked through the pillar I made, forming a passageway connecting the two basements and doubling our living space.
As I got to the other side, I found everyone looking at me.
"What?"
I know I'm dirty, with dust covering my body and hair but they'll get washed out the instant I start flying at above sonic speeds.
Everyone averted their eyes and chattering returned.
It's nice... Being able to retain a sense of normalcy. One could easily mistake this for a house party with how relaxed everyone is talking to each other.
And more importantly... one could almost forget the horror that the sun became, and what happens to you if you stand in its corrupted rays.
I left the basement. Let them have their normalcy. They need it. They really do.
I then placed the sofa back to block the door. Then, right before I flew to get another batch of people, I went to the other house and used the stove as a blocker. Having super strength and flight made what would take multiple humans minutes to do into seconds.
After all that was completed and everyone secured, I took off for the BBC building.
This time, there wasn't any molten meat climbing up the side of the building. Those who splattered onto the ground were still trying to piece themselves together. Slowly, under the gaze of the sun.
A routine formed. A predictable routine. Those people who were inside the studios got used to my presence and my popping up every one to two minutes to ferry four more survivors to the safe house.
By the fourth, I carried the two physicists alongside two others. When they were deposited into the safe house and didn't see their son anywhere, the mother clung to my clothes, clenching them as though her life depended on it.
She begged me that this wasn't real, her hands banging against my body hard enough that I heard her bones creak. Her partner tried to stop her, to talk some sense into her, but the woman nonetheless howled and cried and continued begging me.
"Goddess... can't you resurrect him? Can't you bring back my son? Aren't you a Goddess?"
It was there that I decided to not tell them what happened to their son. I... I don't think I'd be able to bear it if I was forced to tell them of this.
It was this that became the catalyst of what came next.
Looking through my many Authorities gained through We Are The Winged Serpent, I realized that I'm not limited to only Quetzalcoatl's Authorities, but Pan-Human History Kukulkan's Authority over the sea and the storms.
Through the other Kukulkan's Authority over the sea, I could control life to an extent given how life came from the sea. It was similar to Beast II's Sea of Life, only much weaker.
I immediately approached a blob creature and tried to impose my Authority on it— only to find out that I couldn't.
These things... whatever these things are... I can't impose my Authority upon them.
The sun changed these things on more than just the physical and spiritual level.
The sun altered all biomass under its light on a conceptual level.
My Authority over the sea and subsequently, 'life', only exists because life came from the ocean in primordial times. Their origin came from the sea, and through that connection with their origin, I can control life by proxy.
However, the terrifying thing is, whatever the sun did to them severed that connection with the sea.
These things are for all intents and purposes, aliens. If the humans in the Nasuverse were to be turned into these, they wouldn't be part of the Human Order or under the domain of Gaia. They would be considered bonafide aliens, even more foreign than Foreigners.
I took a few steps back in fright. That realization genuinely scared me like nothing before.
These things... I used to think the sun in a When Day Break scenario only mutated humans but to know that it turned them into such foreign creatures that they'll be classified as aliens...
I unleashed a flare of plasma to burn it so thoroughly that not even ashes remained. Though the surrounding temperature in the aftermath of that plasma flare was hot enough to rival the insides of a blacksmith's furnace, I still felt a chill attacking my spine.
"..."
I took off. Back to ferrying more people to try and get my mind off what I had just discovered.
It took only eight trips to ferry everyone except two people left. The head of BBC's New York branch, a man who I come to know as Rick Thompson, stood behind and waited until everyone else had gone before he went as well.
He was the one who had that authoritative voice. No wonder he became a high-ranking executive at the age of only 35.
And the other one left is Bethany, who hid behind the countertop of the news set this entire time. Whenever I tried to approach her, she would raise the cross in her hands right between the two of us, sometimes even to my face.
She's... very difficult. Constantly proclaiming how I'm a witch, how I consorted with Satan, how I caused this apocalypse, apparently abandoning her previous narrative of this being the Rapture.
Instead of any anger as someone would typically feel about this woman, all I could feel was...
Pity.
From what those studio workers had told me in the brief moments when I dropped them off and flew back to this studio, I found out Bethany was a very loving Christian who wasn't able to have any children, and so to fill this void, Bethany adopted as many kids as she could afford financially. She didn't stop at only one batch. Whenever a kid aged out and moved out, Bethany would go to the local orphanage and adopt more.
Apparently, she was from Texas and was very well known amongst the local community. 'Saint Bethany', she was called. 'Mother Bethany' was another title the locals in her community called her because of how many children she fostered.
Her being here in New York was supposed to be for an interview. The BBC heard of this good woman and sought to spread her name. For a more personal reason, Bethany was here apparently to ask people to donate to their local church and orphanages.
It was difficult to reconcile what was said with reality.
Here was a woman who used to be so loving, yet now she was so hateful, the very opposite of what she used to be.
It was when I was on my fifth ferrying flight that I finally realized it.
Bethany was broken. Her world shattered. She must've realized by the announcement made by the SCP Foundation that her own adopted childrens, who were playing around in school today, were among the 6.8 billion people who've melted into flesh.
In these trying times, Bethany clung to her faith as a drowning man would with a lifesaver. In a world that's gone mad, her faith was all that remains. It was her anchor, an island of calm in a sea of chaos.
And so she became a zealot. Anything that goes against her belief was because of 'the devil tempting her'.
I couldn't feel any anger. All I could feel for Bethany was pity and sadness.
"Come on Mrs. Berkenstein, let's go." Rick said.
Bethany Berkenstein recoiled as though she had just smelled something terrible, "And get in cahoot with that witch? Fat chance of that happening. I'll wait here for God's angels to come collect me. My heart filled with love, I shall be accepted into heaven, where Henry and the rest of my children are waiting for me."
"Mrs. Berkenstein, are you actually going to do this?" Rick approached her and Bethany stepped back.
"Don't come near me! I'll sue you if you attempt to touch me!"
Hearing her say that made me recall a specific legal case I've heard about. It was about a member of Jehovah's Witness who required urgent blood transfusion to survive, but she had a 'no transfusion' certificate on her. The doctor who was trying to save her life made an executive decision to go ahead with the transfusion.
That member of Jehovah's Witness later sued the doctor and won hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages.
"Mrs. Berkenstein, get over yourself. Stop being so religious for a moment and think! What do you think would happen if you remained here?"
"God would send His angels to come and collect me."
Rick looked defeated as he sighed. Bethany not moving at all from her stop.
I thought about it for a moment. Then, utilizing We Are The Winged Serpent, I picked out specifically Quetzalcoatl's Authority over knowledge.
With this, I temporarily became an expert in the Christian holy book.
"Why do you think I'm a witch?"
"You have heretic pagan powers. What other thing could you be if not a witch who consorted with Satan? Now you're claiming yourself a Goddess. You who have already damned yourself will not drag me with you."
I cupped my chin for a moment. "That's interesting, did you know that in the original text of Judaism, Satan was actually seen as an agent of God? In the Book of Job Satan plays an important role as an angel in the divine court, prompting God to allow Satan to take away Job's everything and see if Job will blaspheme."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that if you believe me to be someone who consorted with Satan, that would mean I consorted with an angel. One of your God's angels granted me powers unlike any others on this Earth to shepherd mankind back from the brink of extinction."
If I were the Pan-Human History version of Kukulkan, I think my Godly side would've raged at how I was devaluing myself. Fortunately, I was the Lostbelt version and possessed no Divinity. I had no Divine Core of the Benevolent God.
"I'm a Christian—"
"You all believe in the same God. Yahweh, Jehovah, the Lord, Allah, it's all the same. God has many names and He sees you all the same. You, who all worship the same deity, just in your own ways."
I know what I'm doing was highly manipulative. I would be a scum that's preying on a woman's insecurity. If I attempted this in 17th century America or any of the Middle Eastern nations I'd be lynched by a mob or be executed by the local government for blasphemy.
Bethany looked stunned. The fake revelation coming from my mouth has the woman scrambling to try and make sense of it all.
"God loves you all equally. No matter how far you stray, God will still love you nonetheless. You're his children. His finest Creation made in His image."
I offered her a hand, "Come, it's time to go. Heaven hasn't yet opened. This is simply a challenge given to all of humanity. A new Flood to wipe away the sinful and leave the sinless remaining."
Bethany slowly walked out from behind the table. She approached me, her steps slow and unsteady. I waited.
Bethany collapsed into my arms. Her tears flowed freely as she sobbed for the loss of her family. Her sinful family all died in this new Flood that God had sent.
With the press of a button, Bethany entered into the timeless void that is my pocket space, leaving me and Rick alone here in this now-empty studio.
"..."
"..."
"You're despicable." He said after a long silence.
I am. Manipulating the faith of a broken woman to get her to do what I want... even if it's to save her...
I didn't reply, and instead tilted my head up to look at the ceiling.
I felt disgusted with myself.
Then Rick added, "But it's a necessary evil."
"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"
Rick nodded his head.
"Yes. For the good of my valued things, certain things will have to be sacrificed in the name of it. I commit despicable acts to protect them."
I brushed a hand through my hair. Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, I turned to face the man. My eyes glowed with power as an aura encompassed my body.
"Do not attempt to compare me to you. Though I may devalue myself to ensure a better outcome, never forget that I am a Goddess. Many doors are closed to you because of your limitations are open for me. When I commit an evil, do not try to justify it. What is done is done. Do not try and make me feel better about committing that evil."
When I cross a line, I want it to hurt. That way, I won't get comfortable crossing that line again next time. I don't want to have an easier time crossing that line next time.
Justifications breed complacency. That's how heroes die. That's how monsters are born from their corpses.
I could visibly see Rick tense up and sweat drop from his hair, even when the guy attempted to hide it.
He nodded, adding, "Duly noted."
With that, I placed the guy into my pocket space and left, leaving this building behind me, now devoid of any humans where things that used to be humans wander its halls aimlessly.