You step into the facility, the metallic echo of your boots muffled by the chaos around you. The corridor is a war zone—debris scattered across the floor, walls smeared with what you hope is just oil, and flickering lights casting eerie shadows that dance like phantoms.

Your breath catches as you round a corner. There it is. SCP-058 looms over the lifeless body of a D-Class, its grotesque, heart-like form pulsating unnaturally.

Tentacles sway like vipers, razor-sharp spines glinting under the dim light. Its stinger drips with fresh blood.

You freeze, watching as one of its limbs coils possessively around the corpse.

Then it speaks.

"I seek the revelations of all that the holy told to the unwise in the dreams of cold embers in sunlight that fade across lakes of black blood and snakes that eat the loaves of children from lamb trees in autumn."