The world was already unraveling by the time Noah Cain came into possession of SCP-7777. At twenty-eight years old, he had spent much of his life stumbling through the shadows of the mundane—a failed writer, a coffee shop employee, a man drowning in the weight of a world that seemed far too vast to matter. Yet, on the day he was chosen, the Earth itself trembled with the promise of revelation.
The ruins of the small church in Abingdon, Virginia, seemed like a fitting enough place for a man who had lost faith. Its crumbling pews and shattered stained-glass windows whispered forgotten prayers into the void. Noah had come here looking for quiet, perhaps a fleeting sense of connection to the divine he once believed in. What he found instead was SCP-7777, lying amidst the wreckage as if it had always been waiting for him.
The lantern was impossibly ancient, yet untouched by time. Its surface shimmered with shifting light, golden and prismatic-like sunlight refracted through tears. Symbols danced across its frame—Hebrew, Aramaic, and languages Noah couldn't recognize. It hummed softly, a sound that resonated in the core of his being, drawing him closer.
He reached out, compelled beyond reason. The moment his fingers brushed the metal, the hum became a roar, and the church vanished around him.
Noah stood in a place that defied understanding. Stars blazed and died in a matter of seconds, galaxies formed and unraveled in the span of breaths. A voice—neither male nor female, neither loud nor soft—spoke within his mind:
"Noah Cain, bearer of doubt and despair, you are chosen. You will bear my light. You will restore what has been lost."
Noah's protests died in his throat. The presence before him, though unseen, was suffocating in its intensity. It radiated authority beyond anything he could comprehend, a weight that crushed his skepticism beneath its heel.
"I'm… no one," he stammered. "Why me?"
The lantern answered not with words but with vision. He saw Earth in flames, its skies torn open by impossible beings—wings of shadow, eyes of fire, armies of horrors that no human mind could fully grasp. And then, he saw the lantern's light—a single beam pushing back the tide of destruction, illuminating a path of salvation.
"You are no one," the voice agreed. "That is why you are worthy. Take the light, Noah Cain, and wield it well. All of existence depends on you."
When Noah awoke, the church was whole again, as if it had never crumbled. The lantern rested in his hands, but it was no longer inert. It pulsed with living energy, and within its light, he glimpsed the relics it contained.
The Holy Grail shimmered within its depths, a chalice of impossible radiance. The sight of it filled Noah with both awe and terror, for it whispered of absolute power—the kind that could unmake the universe as easily as it could restore it.
Beside it rested the Ark of the Covenant, an artifact of wrath and judgment. Lightning crackled around its edges, and Noah sensed the weight of divine law encoded within its every line.
And then there was the Celestial Scythe of Judgment, a weapon forged to sever not just life but the very fabric of reality. Its blade shimmered with unholy light, a paradox of creation and destruction.
These were only a few of the relics bound within the lantern, and Noah could feel their presence weighing on his soul. Each one was a fragment of the divine, a piece of something far greater than himself.
But there was no time to marvel.
The whine of helicopter blades shattered the silence, and Noah instinctively shielded the lantern as shadows descended over the church. Armed soldiers moved in formation, their movements precise and mechanical. Behind them came the unmistakable figures of SCP Foundation operatives—black suits, mirrored glasses, and an air of grim authority.
"Put down the artifact," one of them commanded, their voice filtered through a megaphone. "This is Foundation jurisdiction."
Noah felt a surge of panic. "I don't even know what this is!" he shouted back, clutching the lantern closer.
The operatives exchanged glances, then advanced. Noah's pulse quickened as he saw one of them reach for something—a containment device, perhaps? He wasn't sure, but instinct took over.
The lantern flared to life in his hands. Its light spilled across the room, and for a brief moment, Noah saw the truth of the men before him. Their shadows stretched long and thin, revealing monstrous forms that twisted and writhed. It wasn't the soldiers themselves that were corrupted, but something behind them, something pulling their strings.
The lantern hummed again, and this time, it acted on its own. A beam of light shot forth, striking the ground in front of Noah. From that light emerged the Blade of Eternal Light, its long sword gleaming with an otherworldly brilliance. Without thinking, Noah reached for it.
The moment his hand closed around the hilt, the sword spoke—not with words, but with understanding. It filled Noah with knowledge of his enemies: the corruption within the Foundation, the influence of entities far beyond human comprehension.
The soldiers hesitated, unnerved by the sudden display of power. The lantern pulsed again, as if urging Noah to act, but he hesitated.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," he said aloud, though he wasn't sure who he was talking to.
The lantern's light dimmed, and Noah felt a wave of calm wash over him. The message was clear: You are a guardian, not an executioner.
The operatives retreated, their equipment sparking and malfunctioning under the lantern's influence. But Noah knew this was only the beginning. The lantern had chosen him for a purpose, and that purpose was far greater than himself.
As the church fell silent once more, Noah looked down at the lantern in his hands. Its light pulsed steadily, a beacon in the darkness.
"What do you want from me?" he whispered.
The lantern didn't answer with words, but the weight of its presence was enough. Noah understood, if only faintly, that his journey would take him far beyond Earth—into realms of gods and monsters, of light and shadow.
And he would face them all, not as a warrior, but as a bearer of the divine light.