Per 
"Turenne, this is Romeo. We are approaching Versailles, nothing to report."
"Roger that, Romeo. Let me know when you get out of the car. Turenne, over."
The car, a Peugeot 308 with the colorful stripes of the National Police, was quietly driving on a country road surrounded by tall cypress trees and small irrigation canals. The stones of the few surrounding walls were pale yellow, in contrast to the immaculate blue of the sky. The two SCP Foundation officers in the car— also wearing the police colors— were less quiet than their surroundings.
"'Well, what's the point of these code names, seriously? We're looking for humanists, not terrorists from the Chaos Insurgency."
"Do you have something to say against my code names, Juliette?"
"No, commander," he grumbled at the driving agent.
A short silence ensued.
"I think it suits you very well, Juliet," Romeo said.
"Oh, shut up."
"Focus, gentlemen, thank you. Turenne, over."
After turning off on a gravel path bordered by hundred-year-old plane trees - at first sight - the car soon arrived in front of a large yellow stone country house, superbly maintained and adorned with multicolored flowers.
"Well… I say it every time, but they don't piss off these Gentlemen."
"Turenne, we arrived in Versailles. Operation 'Siège du Palais' launched."
Roger that. Good luck, Romeo. Turenne, over."
Romeo got out of the car. He repeated the cover story in his head, put his uniform back on and looked at Juliet one last time.
"Take care of yourself."
-"Always," he smiles.
Juliette turned on the radio.
Romeo walked with a determined step to the front door. He knew, surely better than anyone else, that the Gentiles were reluctant to kill. He, therefore, knew that he was not risking much when he entered this private mansion. But even FIM agents could not completely silence this human apprehension about the unknown. He finally knocked on the door. If he expected a butler or chambermaid to open the door, it was the face of his target herself that appeared when the door opened. He did not lose his professionalism as a result.
"Mr. De Mornas? Lieutenant Brescou of the National Police, I'd like to talk to you"
"The police? To what do I owe this honor? Anyway, come in, please.|
"Thank you. »
Opposite the entrance was a wide stone staircase. But it was to the right that the two men moved, and the door frame revealed a small lounge with a very comfortable look. Without him being able to say why, something in the appearance of the Gentile made Romeo uncomfortable. In fact, it was not his appearance strictly speaking: Mr. De Mornas was, not surprisingly, impeccable. But something in the way he moved, perhaps, in his gaze or in his gestures. He couldn't put his finger on it, and it certainly frustrated him more than reason.
"Would you like some tea?
"No, thank you."
"Well, sit down, please."
The Gentile sat in front of Romeo on a couch with Maghrebi stylings - the same as the agent's. They were only separated by a coffee table of the same style. By reflex, the agent inspected the room: the decoration was meant to be as rich as it was exotic. A high window overlooking the front of the bastide illuminated the two men from the left. Many portraits adorned the walls, all of them of different men or women, but all giving an undeniable sense of belonging to a whole.
"Well then. Mr. De Mornas, you have tried to acquire several formerly public lands on the outskirts of the village. Is that true?"
"That's right. That's right. Three, to be exact."
"These lots, put up for sale by the town hall a month ago, were of interest to five different buyers, right?"
"That's true. But the second buyer, Hôtel du Manoir, withdrew a week after the sale."
"That's right. But…"
Undoubtedly, something in the Gentile in front of him really bothered him. However, it was not his grey eyes, his brown hair or his thick features. It was an overall impression. A whole. An aura.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Uh, no, thank you."
He found this unpleasant impression in the many portraits attached to the walls. It was almost as if he expected them to come to life. Which they did not, of course. At least, not yet. However, his training as an MTF operative allowed him to eliminate the discomfort that constantly made him want to wriggle on his couch.
"In short: two weeks ago, an investigation was opened on the first buyer, who was until then favored for this acquisition. The money he was advancing did not seem to have a tangible source. But I fear that the investigation has been extended to other buyers."
This affair had been a real boon for the Foundation. Mr. De Mornas' schemes, whether founded or not, gave both the pretext and the cover to the agent. He had to arrest the Gentleman in good and proper form so that other Gentlemen would not suspect the Foundation's involvement. Not a matter of fear, no. More like subtlety. The Gentlemen had been quietly learning about the Foundation for a very long time.
"Including you, Mr. De Mornas."
It was no longer a nuisance. It was a real discomfort that took hold of his body. His hair was bristling, shivering despite the heat. The tremors came soon after. Hiding all these symptoms became so quickly impossible. Strangely, Mr. De Mornas did not flinch.
"You in particular. A government official accuses you of corruption, sir."
There! He could have sworn that one of the paintings had moved. No, it was probably his imagination that was playing with his discomfort.
"You would have been caught in flagrblmnlm… uh… excuse me."
"Please, please, please."
Romeo concentrated all his strength to clear his mind. Surprisingly, he did not succeed. His concentration evaporated, and his professionalism with it. He was very, very anxious to rest. To stop this stupid conversation right where they were.
"Would you like some tea?"
"Uh… Yes… Yes… Thank you."
Mr. De Mornas took the teapot from the coffee table and served Romeo a cup of tea, which he quickly drank. He himself did not know the reason for this haste, but the tea quickly made him forget his questions. It's just that the tea was very good. Excellent, even. In a last effort, he tried everything for the whole thing, despite the blur surrounding his mind, even more powerful than a day after he was drunk.
"… the police have therefore instructed me to take you into custody, sir."
"The SCP Foundation, you mean?"
"Uh, yes, the Foundation."
There was an embarrassing silence. Mr. De Mornas remained sober in his triumph. Romeo, on the other hand, made his neurons suffer to understand the situation. And it took him a good two minutes to realize. Maybe it was the tea? No, it was not in the ways of the Gentiles. Maybe the cookies? No, if Mr. De Mornas hadn't poisoned the tea, he hadn't poisoned the cookies either. But… The cover story… The discretion… The Foundation… Oh fuck.
"Don't be so angry with yourself, come on. I can see it in your eyes. Definitely, this SCP Foundation… You're not afraid of anything, are you? This is what happens when we protect humanity from the greatest threats it has ever faced, I suppose. So being afraid of the Gentlemen, ah! You're right not to be afraid of us. But you're wrong not to be afraid. »
Romeo stared at the Gentile, vegetating in his uncontrolled paralysis.
"How did I guess? It's very simple: a simple police lieutenant wouldn't have resisted my paintings that long. As for choosing whether you came from the Global Occult Coalition or the SCP Foundation… an intuition. In any case, whether you come from one giant or the other, your lack of subtlety is obvious. That is indeed the flaw of your Foundation. You always defend your positions with large reinforcements of armored vehicles, firearms, and small soldiers. But you are missing the subtleties of the particularity, ignoring the importance of aesthetics, and not talking about memetics. You don't know that Man is everything. You lack an aura, which, believe me, is not only superficial, and you deliberately make yourself cold and inhuman."
Mr. De Mornas drank a sip of tea.
"Yes, I'm suing you about the form, forgive me. That's because you have merit. You were successful, much more so than most of your competitors, and protect humanity in the present time. But I fear we are irreconcilable. A chasm deeper than that of form separates us. Because you and your Foundation are only defending a pleasant status quo, which you dare to call 'normality.'"
The agent stammered something quite close to "jlbjlmblm", unable to articulate a single word.
"Oh, no, of course not: you are not alone. The Global Occult Coalition or SAPPHIRE terrorists are fighting for the same goal with even more fervor."
Romeo was enraged. In his thoughts, of course: his body was for the moment limited to ridiculous stuttering or soft spasms. But he still had control of his mind, and the things he imagined he was doing to Mr. De Mornas had already guaranteed him a one-way ticket to Hell several times.
"What is normality, after all? Why should all these things, on the pretext that they seem special to us, defy the laws of our world? Aren't our senses impressionable? Are we not like those Stone Age men who believe they see divine power in fire? And it is in this error that your ideology, however laudable in principle, takes its roots. The abnormality is natural. Fighting it is futile. We must adapt to it, as so many other animal species have adapted to changes in their environment."
- "Your… re," escapes the agent's lips.
- "And yet! You take all the pride in the world thinking you can prevent humanity from hiding in fear again, but what are you doing? You put the source of this fear aside and hope to never see it again. That's not how you fight a phobia. You're only delaying the inevitable. You're only putting man in danger."
Mr. De Mornas took another sip of tea.
"Why? Because the day your 'abnormality' escapes from your cages, what can Man do? Apart from witnessing his own extinction? Nothing, of course. Because the difference between Man and 'abnormal' will still exist, making the latter untouchable. That is why we must create the Best Man. Man must leave his banality. »
The right door opened. A young man and a young woman came out of it. They looked surprised.
"My dear apprentices, I present to you the code name 'Romeo', from the SCP Foundation. We were just discussing a particular philosophy, so make yourself comfortable."
Romeo hardly followed the two young men with his eyes. The anger was fading. He no longer had enough conscience to keep it. To lose this anger would have almost pissed him off if he could have been pissed off, but this disappearance created more of a kind of vaporous indifference.
"The day when particular and human beings will no longer be antonyms, and only then will Man no longer live in fear. He will have accepted, transcended this fear. And then we will be able to enter a new era of Beauty, Goodness and Truth."
"What normal transhumanists call Singularity," the young man added.
"But we do not promise any transcendence or cosmic ascension: even as a Better Man, Man will remain Man. We are not a common 'abnormal' religion. But this Singularity will only be achieved through our continuous efforts and work, not any particular Prometheus - abnormal, if you will. Because, unlike the evolution of animal species, which depends only on the chance of genetic mutations, we can influence, and even provoke, our evolution into a Better Man. This is the true superiority of man over other animal species."
"Man has nothing to lose but his banality, " the young woman added.
"But we have a better world to win. To be manufactured. And that's what we good men do."
The Gentile was silent. Perhaps it was to breathe, to heal its dramatic effect or to allow its apprentices to eat the cookies without disturbing themselves. But in any case, this pause allowed the agent to develop some approval of the Gentile's words. What he was saying wasn't so bad, after all.
"Because you see, being a Gentleman is not enjoying the luxury of private mansions. If we do nothing, if we do not create, the Assembly removes them from us without remorse. To be a Gentleman is to believe…"
"Wanting."
"To know."
"… that we can have better, that we deserve more, and that particularities can help us to do so."
Yes, that's a good point. Yes. Very convincing. The Gentleman was also very courteous, all the same. Romeo told himself that he had only bothered him until then, whereas Mr. De Mornas had been so welcoming. He had offered her tea! And cookies! No, Romeo definitely didn't want to abuse his host's hospitality anymore.
"I think it's time for me to leave," he said.
"Of course, I understand," replied the Gentile as courteously as ever.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye, sir. It was a pleasure."
Romeo felt almost bad about disturbing, on such a beautiful day, Mr. De Mornas, who was decidedly so polite, and welcoming, and benevolent, and… He closed the front door behind him. He saw a police car. He wasn't sure why, but he had to get in. His mind constantly reminded him, although very vaguely, of a "mission". While all Romeo really wanted was to stop disturbing the courteous Mr. De Mornas. He went to the car, opened the door and got into the passenger seat. On the right was another person, dazed. Did she see a ghost? In any case, fixing someone in this way was not very polite.
"But… uh… Romeo? What the hell are you doing here alone? Weren't you supposed to…?
"Uh… Well, he was very sweet, really… He offered me tea. And biscuits, let's not forget the biscuits, which were excellent by the way. We had a pleasant discussion, he is a very courteous man, very attentive and definitely in good taste."
Juliet was torn between horror, laughter, and disbelief. His face, however, could not separate the three emotions, and therefore displayed them all at the same time.
"Fucking Romeo! Are you sure you're okay?"
"Of course I'm fine! How could it not be fine after such a philosophical discussion? It's just…"
Juliet gave him a powerful slap, which resounded even in the earpiece of Turenne, twisting his eardrums.
" Oh ! You are Agent Samuel Giraud of the SCP Foundation, member of the FIM Tau-3 "Regiment du Roy", on a mission to arrest the Gentleman 'Mr. De Mornas'"!
"I… Wait, what? Axel?"
"Yes, that's my name, you idiot."
They fixed themselves for a few seconds, sharing relief and misunderstanding. Then, with almost perfect synchronization, they exclaimed:
"That bastard."
Mission Report Tau-3-01FRG32
Opération "Siège du Palais"
Commander: Commander Piotrowski
Operatives: Agents Axel Prad and Samuel Giraud
Operation "Siège du Palais", which aimed to apprehend the Gentile known as "Mr. De Mornas" using suspicions of corruption on the part of the National Police, was a failure. The Gentleman escaped without Agent Giraud being able to stop him. He stated that he had been manipulated by incapacitating cognitive agents, a testimony supported by Constable Prad.
The Hôtel Particulier du Gentilhomme underwent a thorough search and memetic disinfection by Dr. Capelle's team, which confirmed Agent Giraud's testimony. Many memorial agents were hidden in wall decorations, among other things. However, the recovery of this housing has made it possible to obtain valuable documents that the Gentile man probably forgot in a hurry.
This new information will obviously be taken into account in future operations.
