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He was a member of the Ouranos, and oversaw them. He was special among the Ouranos, knowing more than the most- which was the strange part. All the personnel of Ouranos were to know everything that was happening inside the Insurgency.
But many could not be trusted. His name was Alastair, but that was confidential. To the others, he was Ouranos-Delta. His team was the black operations unit of divine quality, thought to be a rumor among the lower ranks, and their existence denied by the higher ranks.

“Sir,” addressed the bearded man in a black uniform, with the silver “alpha” symbol meticulously stitched on to the outer jacket. “We have captured another one.”

Alastair merely raised his eyebrows. Acquiring semi-divine items for a living took the glory out of finding an anomalous object.
“Where did you find it?” he said nonchalantly.

“Some Foundation site,” the uniformed man muttered as nonchalantly as Alastair had.

“Did you take down any doctors of use to them?”

“That’s the part I need to tell you. We took down an O5…”

Alastair’s bored expression turned into a devious grin.

“Haven’t done that in a few decades… what else?”

“Bad news… on the way out, a minor containment breach of that damn statue—”

“173?”
“Whatever you call it, it snapped the neck of three of our team.”

“That’s to be expected.”

“It is… but their bodies… the rest of us couldn’t recover them.”
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One of the O5 stepped towards the bodies, after ensuring that SCP-173 was back in place. The fact that they made off with his prized SCPs… he was one of those keeping the world from shattering due to the imbalance of these anomalous… things… unthinkable.

His angry demeanor slowly turned into a maniacal vengeance once he had found several booklets and key cards on the bodies.
One of his favorite spies could use these uniforms.
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“Sir, there are three new recruits that are going to be a part of our glorious team, Caelestis Rebelles.”

“I keep forgetting the Latin origin of this team, seeing how the rest of the team names of Greek. Make sure none of these recruits are secretly foundation spies.”

“Of course… and if one of them is a Foundation member… what will we do with him or her?”

“Torture the information out of the double agent and then a gruesome execution.”

“Right- I will give you the requested information by 15:30, all right?”

“Fine, but no later, I have a tight schedule.”

The bearded man in the uniform turned away and walked to the large titanium door. Sliding his black key card into the security mechanisms, he walked out of the room and took a right, into another titanium door, this time reinforced with several different security mechanisms. Inserting different key cards he had into separate security mechanisms, the door opened and he cautiously walked in.

“Caelestis Rebelles, stand,” he addressed into the agents in black sitting in crimson thrones.

“Today we introduce three new recruits, Michael Davenport-” he motioned towards a young Caucasian man at the side, “-Hawa Hassan-” he motioned his hand at a young Arab woman by Davenport, “-and William Jackson,” motioning his hand at another Caucasian man by Michael. William looked older, a scar on his eye and a goatee.

“Now, everyone is dismissed to Cafeteria-Delta except these new recruits.” The crowd slowly filled out the door.

“Hello, recruits,” the bearded man in uniform said. “I am the Captain of this team. You may call me Doctor Martin. Before we get started with your training… who knows what the SCP Foundation is?”

No one said anything.

“I’ll ask again. Inconclusive answers will result in hours of torture for all of you.” He was lying, of course. The last thing he wanted to do was animosity to be subjected at him.

Davenport spoke up. “I’ve heard about them. They keep the special objects safe, not doing anything but wasting resources. I think they have over two thousand of these objects. ”

“Good.”

Davenport was the spy. He had hoped to infiltrate the Chaos Insurgency, steal back the Staff of Hermes, and destabilize all the cells- or, at least, the important ones.

But in truth, he did not support the Foundation. He did truly believe they were wasting resources- he owed his allegiance to another group, considered extremely minor by both groups. How wrong they were.

The truth in his eyes when he had said when he said they were wasting resources threw Doctor Martin off. He had seen reports of this agent destabilizing other groups that took… abnormal interest in anomalous objects.

“And what might you think, Miss Hassan?”

“If they are stupid enough to have that much power and not to use it, then I think they deserve to die, though I have no previous knowledge of this.”

“Yeah, that,” mumbled William.

“Well, onto your training.”
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“O5-09 here,” the text in code in Indic lettering spelled out. The proxy server was a bit slow.
“Staff of Hermes at Chaos Insurgency base in Sierra Nevadas,” Davenport texted back, typing as fast as he could in coded Indic script.

“Right by your location, Base 2?”

“Yes.”

“Preparing full scale invasion on Base 2.”
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FOUNDATION PERSONNEL IN LARGE NUMBERS. DEFEND WITH LIFE.
The intercom repeated the message over and over again.
FOUNDATION PERSONNEL AT GATE A,”

“Martin, you idiot! I thought you would root out the double agents!”

“S-sorry, sir, but-”

“What the hell?! God… you’re going to the front line, and be the first casualty!” Alastair shoved a revolver into Martins hand.
They hurried to Gate A. So far, there was no Insurgency bodies to be seen.

Martin opened his jaw when he saw O5-09 talking to Davenport. Just when Martin pulled up his revolver to shoot Davenport, Davenport unsheathed a knife and stabbed O5-09 several times in his chest.

“Davenport… you betraying… son of a…”

Davenport stepped on O5-09’s head, pulled out a sub-machine gun from his coat, and let around five bullets pierce the body of O5-09.

“WE’RE ROUTED!” yelled a Foundation officer. “COUNCIL MEMBER DEAD! FALL BACK!” The Foundation personnel attempted to flee in a helicopter, but were promptly shot down by the rain of hell Insurgency members were giving.

The Insurgency members looted the corpses and went inside. Alistair, Davenport, Martin, and the rest of the Caelestis Rebelles remained. The Staff of Hermes lay by the bloodstains.

Alistair walked towards Davenport, a smile on his face.
“I thought you betrayed us… good job. We killed yet another O-5…”

“No problem,” Davenport smiled back.

He took his sub-machine gun and shot Martin several times in the head, and aimed the gun at Alistair. The clicking noise indicating the lack of ammo allowed Alistair a swing at the head- though this was promptly dodged. The Caelestis Rebelles were taken by surprise and didn’t have their guns readied.

Davenport's knife stabbed the torso of Alistair several times, and ran to the Staff of Hermes.
A cloud of smoke emerged from nowhere, and men and women in black trimmed with red secured Davenport along with the Staff.

As quick as they came, they left without a trace.
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“Uhhh…”

“Hey, Alistair is waking up!” the voice of a fellow Ouranos came. He was white in skin and wore thick glasses, and was always considered as the 'softie' of the Ouranos- wishing to rehabilitate his enemies rather than kill them, establishing democracies when he should've establishing Marxist states, that kind of thing.

“Ouranos-Delta,” a doctor adressed to the now awake Alistair. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh… not that good. What the hell happened?”

“It would seem that the one known as Davenport owed his allegiance to neither the SCP Foundation or the Chaos Insurgency…”
“What then, the Alexyva University or the Global Occult Coalition?”

“Neither. One we have never known but wider than anything we have seen.”

“Where is Martin…?”

“Dead,” responded the other Ouranos.

‘Oh… and Matthew, why the hell are you even here? Don’t you have things you need to do?” Alistair directed at the other Ouranos.

“Everyone’s job as of now is find out where the hell The Staff is,” “If you’ve forgotten, that thing was our cash cow.”

“True, but why are you here?”

“You provide key witness testimony,” “as you’re the only one who knows anything about Davenport. All I know is that Martin and Davenport were in a secret group, and I’m sure you have access to Martin’s stuff… figure out everything.”

Oh… he forgot he was the only one who knew anything about the Caelestis Rebelles.

“What happened after that group left?”

“Body cleanup, security reboot, but one thing was the most interesting…”

Matthew took a paper out from his pocket and unfolded it.
It was a picture of Gate A, with large spray painted letters spelling out “Scene Rogue”.

“Ouranos-Alpha, it also seems that we can track down the origin of this spray paint and DNA tracking will help, too,” said the Doctor nonchalantly.

“We now know whom to kill,” whispered Matthew.

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