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Item #: SCP-2088
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: A 4km2 area of land centered around SCP-2088 has been established as Provisional Site 2088, and is fenced off from the general public under the guise of a nature preserve for endangered species. The perimeter is to be patrolled by guards, and any civilians who enter are to be evicted. Any civilians who witness a Bardagi Event should be amnesticized and released.
Ten motion-sensor video cameras are to be placed around the perimeter of SCP-2088 to capture footage of Bardagi Events. All recorded footage of Bardagi Events is to be labelled and stored for archival purposes, and notable examples may be used in the training of field agents.
Notice: As of 2/12/2011, all footage of Bardagi Events is to be entered into the face-recognition algorithm, and the results cataloged as according to Document-2088-A.
Description: SCP-2088 is a small area of land located near Karasjok, Norway. It is marked by a stone ring 20m in radius. The area's sole anomalous property is the occasional manifestation of incorporeal entities.
Such manifestations are referred to as Bardagi Events, and always appear as follows:
At random intervals1, two to four entities will manifest inside SCP-2088. These entities are visible but intangible, and do not emit sound or heat.
One of these entities (designated SCP-2088-1) will appear as a soldier from seemingly any era in history2, and will be dressed and armed appropriately. All other entities (designated SCP-2088-2) will appear as decaying corpses, and are equipped with heavily damaged armor and weapons typical of the Vikings. SCP-2088-2 are stronger and more durable than a human of similar size and build would be. Their equipment also seems to be unusually durable. After all entities manifest, SCP-2088-1 will proceed to engage in battle with all instances of SCP-2088-2 until either SCP-2088-1 or all instances of SCP-2088-2 appear to be fatally wounded. All entities present will then disappear, leaving no trace of any activity.
All Bardagi Events should be cataloged as follows:
From the recording of the Bardagi Event, take a clear image of SCP-2088-1's face, and enter it into the face-recognition algorithm. Then, record the generated ID number, and fill out the battle record form (details below). Save both the video log and the battle record form into the appropriate databases.
Battle record form:
Battle ID: [ID number of SCP-2088-1]-[number of SCP-2088-2 manifested]-[W (win) or L (loss) of SCP-2088-1]
Date: [Date]
SCP-2088-1: [Description of SCP-2088-1 instance]
Notes: [Notes]
Addendum 1: Face-recognition technology has been utilized on the entities dressed as modern-day soldiers. Current results indicate that each entity strongly resembles a real soldier who has been killed in the line of duty.
Addendum 2: On 12/3/2010, an instance of SCP-2088-1 matching Agent William Jackson's appearance manifested in SCP-2088. Agent Jackson had been killed two weeks prior in the line of duty.
Addendum 3: Facial-recognition technology was employed to catalog each entity that appeared, and the subsequent results were studied in hopes of finding a pattern. See Addendum 4 for further details.
Addendum 4:
Battle ID: 1312-1-W
Date: 12/3/2010
SCP-2088-1: Agent William Jackson, deceased Foundation field agent
Notes: First manifested SCP-2088-1 matching a Foundation employee's appearance. The SCP-2088-1 instance acted in a manner consistent with Agent Jackson's skills and abilities.
Battle ID: 1312-2-W
Date: 2/5/2011
SCP-2088-1: Agent William Jackson, deceased Foundation field agent
Notes: First recorded instance of the same SCP-2088-1 manifesting twice. Once again, the instance's skills matched those of Agent Jackson's.
The repeat appearance of this SCP-2088-1 instance led to further research into repeat appearances of other SCP-2088-1.
2/27/2011: So far, we have found nearly 300 cases of repeat manifestations. There has to be some sort of pattern to these. -Dr. Wilson
3/11/2011: I think we've got something. Of the 40 repeat manifestations we've studied so far, there are the same number of, or more, SCP-2088-2 than there were during the first manifestation. This warrants some further investigation. -Dr. Wilson
3/25/2011: One of the researchers decided to look through the files of any soldiers who have had SCP-2088-1 matching their appearance manifest, and compare the soldiers' fighting styles to that of the SCP-2088-1. The results are still inconclusive, but what we have now is interesting. In each and every case, the SCP-2088-1 acted exactly like their real-life counterparts. This feels important, but we have more pressing concerns right now. I will take a look at this when we've finished with the repeat manifestations investigation. -Dr. Wilson
4/2/2011: We're still working on the repeat manifestations, but something odd has come up. When an SCP-2088-1 wins against three SCP-2088-2, it appears to permanently cease manifesting. Usually the average time between repeat manifestations is 2-4 months, but SCP-2088-1-0674 won against three SCP-2088-2 in February last year, and it's never appeared since then. 0674 isn't the only one, either. We currently have 34 cases that are practically confirmed, and 22 more that we're still waiting on. -Dr. Wilson
6/7/2011: It's all coming together now. We think the SCP-2088-1 are participating in some sort of structured combat, almost a competition of sorts. When an SCP-2088-1 wins against one SCP-2088-2, it goes on to fight two. When it wins against two, it then fights against three. And if it loses at any point, it'll appear later and fight against the same number of SCP-2088-2 it had lost against. Then, when it wins agains three, it just disappears. -Dr. Wilson
6/8/2011: Well there's the "what", but where's the "why"? What the hell are these things? How come they all resemble dead soldiers and nobody else, and why are they practically mirror images of their real-life counterparts? The battle is clearly some sort of competition, but why? What are they fighting for? -Dr. Lan
6/10/2011: My job's just to find facts and crunch numbers, not explain the anomalies. Hell, most of the things we study have no explanation. But if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that they're gathering an army. I don't know what they're preparing for, but what happens at this site is some sort of entrance exam. As for why they look like real people… Maybe that's what they are. -Dr. Wilson
Addendum 5: On 7/15/2011, an engineer sent to inspect the cameras noticed an inscription one of the stones in the ring around SCP-2088. Further investigation revealed that the inscription was in Old Norse, and that each stone in the circle has been similarly inscribed. When all the inscriptions are read together, they translate to the following message:
The final day of Ragnarok approaches
And the warriors stand strong in Valhalla
Let us pray that they are ready
The significance of this message in relation to SCP-2088 is currently unknown.
We are the Foundation. We secure, we contain, we protect.
Even the newest of recruits know those words by heart. The Foundation is Earth's first line of defense against the anomalous. We find the things that should not be and capture them, study them, learn from them. We discover all that we can in order to make the world a safer place.
But if you go through our main list of SCPs, you might notice a strange pattern. Each and every object we have in containment is interesting. Every one has some incredible ability or some captivating story, something that truly makes it special. But what are the chances of that? Why don't we have a twelve-foot-long, acid-spewing turtle? Or what about a sentient plant that enjoys the taste of human flesh? Why don't we have any generic monsters, the kind we read about in bad horror novels?
The truth is, we do. Or at least, that's what they tell us.
A long time ago, we kept these monsters in regular containment. We captured the acid turtle, the flesh-eating plant, and thousands more just like them. We housed them in our sites, in steel-and-concrete cages. We studied them like we would any other object. We devoted countless hours and millions of dollars to keeping them contained.
But at some point, we realized something. Those monsters were far too dangerous, and not nearly interesting enough. We poured in time and money, but we received nothing. Yes, every single one of them broke well-established laws of physics and chemistry and biology. But that was it. None of them were special. They were just a little weirder and a little scarier than what we were used to.
So one day, all the O5s got together for a long and important meeting, and at the end it was decided that these monsters were not worth what we were investing in them. They took far too much and gave back far too little. The Foundation may seem like some supernatural, godly force, but at the end of the day we still have bills to pay, and these creatures simply weren't paying up. So what were we going to do with thousands upon thousands of these things?
Why, destroy them, of course.
Nobody was very happy with this plan. After all, we exist to contain, not kill. We exist to create knowledge, not destroy it. We should be keeping everything in a cage, just in case another one pops up. In fact, the opposition to this plan was so great that after just two months and twelve destroyed SCPs, the entire project was shut down and we went back to the good old days of containing each and every object we found.
But I've done some digging of my own over the past few years, and I've noticed some interesting things. If you go through our site list, we have a few, like 124 and 57 that are listed as being for "containment of dangerous anomalies". When we encounter something too dangerous to contain, but too useless to study, we're supposed to send in a transfer request. Then it goes through some paperwork, and few days later the SCP is gone, sent off to one of these specialized containment facilities. Then after a few months, the file for that SCP mysteriously disappears. And this isn't just a few isolated incidents, either. Within the past five years, at least fifty SCPs that I've been assigned to have been transferred and erased like this.
That got me thinking. What exactly was happening to these SCPs that we had sworn so long ago to secure, contain, and protect? Over the past year, I pulled a few strings and called in some favors, and despite being only a level 3 researcher, I think I've figured this all out.
It turns out that the O5s never stopped destroying SCPs. They just amnesticized everyone who didn't need to know, and wrapped the thing up in so many layers that nobody would ever realize that this project even existed.
These "containment" facilities don't contain anything but a big room with reinforced walls and a lot of weapons. When the SCPs get sent in for "containment", it's really for destruction. They throw the SCPs in, bring out all their big guns, and a few hours later whatever's left get tossed into the incinerator or the acid bath. Then after a while, the containment procedures are "lost", and the SCP fades from existence forever. And when a new one comes in, it's just rinse and repeat.
Now, why am I telling you? Why would I risk my career and my life to send you this message? Why would I dig so deep into one of the Foundation's biggest secrets, and then just throw my findings into the crowd?
Well, I'm really not risking much. By the time you receive this letter, I will have disappeared. I've contacted certain individuals, and paid them to completely wipe me from existence. I no longer exist in any records - government, Foundation, or otherwise. If I'm lucky, they'll never find me. If I'm not, I'll at least be able to hide for five or ten years. But that doesn't quite answer the question of "why".
I'm doing all this because I believe you deserve to know. I believe we all deserve to know. The Foundation is not some deity, it is not some power that has existed since time immemorial. The Foundation is just as human as the hundreds of thousands of people staffing its facilities, and so it is flawed. But if we are flawed, we deserve to know. After all, acceptance the first step on the road to recovery.
Maybe they'll try to amnesticize you. But I've sent this letter to everyone I could, and they can't amnesticize all of them. People know now, and nothing the O5s do will change that. The veil has been torn down, the secrets exposed. And the bell cannot be unrung.
Perhaps after reading this you've lost faith in the Foundation, come to regard them as cruel and secretive, keeping secrets from the very people whose hard work they rely on. But remember that we are an organization dedicated to lying to the world, and so we must inevitably lie to each other as well.
This does not make us evil. We are still the Foundation. We still secure, contain, and protect.
But sometimes, we must destroy.
Somewhere inside an underground secure facility along the Floridan coast, the six men and women of MTF Psi-12, division 114 stood around a table.
The one at the head of the table spoke. "So, guys. Here's the deal. Over the past three months, we've had eighteen different cases of people in this area reporting some form or other of memory loss."
He gestured to the map spread across the table, which had been marked with a cluster of red dots. "All these cases are real close together, as you can see. The techies think it's anomalous, which is why we're all gathered here right now. They're pretty sure that whatever's causing it is originating from somewhere in this building."
He pointed at a spot on the map, and the others leaned in closer to study it. "It's an old apartment, twelve stories. Abandoned seven years ago due to structural concerns but never demolished. Intelligence says that there are no residents, permanent or temporary, at this time. Our job is to go in, do a sweep, and clean up the anomaly - if there is one. Pretty standard stuff."
The five others nodded, and their leader nodded back at them. "Alright, we're heading out from Bay Four in 45 minutes. Here's the panic phrases for this mission. Get prepping." He handed each of them a folded sheet of paper, and the group dispersed.
At her locker, Cassandra Perrin unfolded the sheet of paper. She stared at the seemingly random mess of scribbles printed on it, and found a phrase forming in her mind.
Red red red, scarlet crimson red.
As she prepared her gear, she whispered the phrase to herself, letting the words roll around her tongue, feeling them settle themselves somewhere deep inside her mind. She thought back to her orientation, to the day she was first admitted into Psi-12.
"Now, as a member of Psi-12, you will forget things. This is an unavoidable part of your job. You will forget the name of your childhood pet, or your laptop's password, or how to fire a gun. You will get used to forgetting things. Or maybe you won't, because you'll forget that you've forgotten these things before. But there is one thing you won't forget unless we let you, and that's your panic phrase. Before each mission, we will give you a sheet of paper. That paper will be covered in memes, and it will ingrain a phrase into your mind. You will not be able to forget this phrase until you complete the mission and we give you the counter-meme. Your panic phrase is your one guaranteed anchor to reality. It is unchanging and unwavering in the face of whatever antimemetic anomalies you face."
In her seven months at Psi-12, Perrin had never needed to use her panic phrase a single time. She hoped this streak of excellent fortune would continue.
"Red red red, scarlet crimson red", she whispered again. She double-checked her equipment and headed to Bay Four.
Half an hour later, MTF Psi-12, division 114 stood outside an old apartment building.
Their leader spoke again. "Alright, team. There are twelve floors and six of us. I'm thinking we split into pairs of two and take four floors each. That sound good?"
The others murmured their assent. "Okay. Phelps and Chen, you take the first four. I'll take five through eight with Lorenzo. Perrin and Zhukov, you're on nine through twelve. We're on Alert Level One for now, check-ins every twenty minutes. Let's get going."
And without a further word, the six entered the building.
Several minutes later, Perrin and Zhukov arrived at the ninth floor of the building.
"How do you want to do this, Zhukov? I think we should stay on the same floor, just to be safe."
Zhukov nodded. "You take left rooms, I take right rooms."
"Sounds good to me." Perrin turned towards her first room, and saw Zhukov turn towards his.
The mission began uneventfully. The rooms were abandoned and decaying, and Perrin went through room after room with no sign of anything unusual. She and Zhukov had almost finished searching the ninth floor when the communicator buzzed against her cheek.
"Alright, check-in number one. Chen."
"Present."
"Lorenzo."
"Here."
"Phelps."
"Yup."
"Perrin."
"Reporting in."
"Smith - that's me. Zhukov."
"Da."
"All six accounted for. Nothing of note discovered so far. Next check-in still in twenty minutes."
The next check-in passed without incident, and so did the third. By this point, Perrin and Zhukov had searched through the ninth, tenth, and eleventh with no interesting discoveries. As they started on the twelfth, Perrin felt her communicator buzz again.
"Check-in number four. Chen."
"Still present."
"Lorenzo."
"Here."
"Phelps."
"Yeah."
"Perrin."
"Reporting in."
"Smith - I'm good. All five accounted for. Next one's in twenty minutes again."
Wait a second.
"Sir, did you just say 'all five'?"
"Yes. Is something wrong, Perrin?"
Perrin could hear the confusion in her captain's voice. She felt the perspiration forming on her brow. There were six of them. Right?
"Red red red, scarlet crimson red."
Smith's tone hardened immediately. "What is it?"
"There were six of us, sir. We had one more person, Anton Zhukov."
"Okay. Okay, does anybody else remember a Zhukov?"
"I don't, but Psi-12 divisions 100 through 299 are teams of six. There's no way we'd only have five."
"We have five because Harkins retired last week. They said we'd be getting a new guy before the end of the month."
And as Chen and Phelps began to argue, Perrin began to worry. This was not good. This was definitely not good. None of their stories agreed with each other. Which one of them was wrong?
"Quiet down." Smith's voice came through the comm again. "Something is wrong here. I'm calling Alert Level Three until we figure out what, but keep searching the rooms in the meantime. Check-ins are every five minutes, and keep your partner in sight at all times. Perrin, is there anyone else on your floor?"
Perrin stepped into the hallway and looked around. "Nobody, sir. What should I do?"
"Head downstairs and group up with us. Phelps and I are on the seventh floor, but we'll be moving up to the eighth soon."
"Understood, sir."
And as she turned around towards the stairwell, she noticed something odd. She blinked. It was still there. She rubbed her eyes and blinked again. It didn't disappear. She quietly swore to herself.
"Red red red, scarlet crimson red."
"What's wrong, Perrin?"
"There are twelve floors to this building, right? And the only roof access is through a maintenance ladder?"
"That sounds right, but let me check." Perrin heard the sound of papers rustling through the comm. "Yeah, that's definitely right. Twelve floors. Why?"
"I'm on the twelfth floor right now, and there's a staircase going up."
"Ah, shit. Just come on down, Perrins. We can investigate there later once we've grouped up."
"Yessir."
And as she opened the door to the stairs down, she heard a sound. She wasn't sure what it was, but something made that sound, and it wasn't her.
"Sir? I just heard something."
"Fuck. Do you know what it was?"
"No idea, sir."
"Alright. Stay calm, Perrin. I need you to stay calm and get down here as quick as you can. Don't stop for anything. Phelps and I are coming up to meet you."
"Okay."
She heard another sound behind her. And again. Footsteps, she realized. This was the sound of footsteps. She turned around.
There was a man standing there. Was it a man? Maybe it was a woman. It didn't look like either - or rather, it looked like both. As she stared, she saw it flicker through a hundreds thousand forms.
"Sir, there's something here with me. I… I think it's a person."
"What do you mean, you think?"
"I don't know, sir. I can't tell what it looks like. Its face keeps changing."
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay, stay put, Perrin. Phelps and I are coming. Don't move, and whatever you do, do not engage the entity."
"Ye- yes sir." As Perrin struggled to get the words out of her mouth, she decided that she probably couldn't move even if she tried. She continued to stare at the thing in front of her, mesmerized by its flickering appearance.
Stop it, whispered some voice deep inside her head. This situation is bad. That thing is bad.
"But what can I do?", she whispered back.
Remember, Cassandra. Remember what is real. Anchor yourself.
"Red red… red… uh…"
And once again, she thought back to her orientation for MTF Psi-12.
"What happens if we do forget our panic phrase?", asked one of the agents. The lecturer thought for a moment before replying. "If you ever forget your panic phrase, start praying. Because whatever you're up against is way above your pay grade."
"Our Father who art in heaven…"
The thing took a step forward. Then two. Three.
"Perrin? What's going on?"
"…hallowed be thy name."
It was only five steps away now.
"Perrin? Perrin, talk to me!"
"Thy kingdom come."
It streched its hand out towards Perrin's face.
"Perrin!"
"Thy will be done…"
Everything went black.
When Perrin opened here eyes, there was nothing in front of her. Of course there was nothing. There never was anything there in the first place. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around to see Smith and Phelps come up the stairs.
"Is everything okay, Perrin?"
"Yes sir. I've finished searching the top floors, and there's nothing unusual to report."
"Alright, we're good to go then. Let's head home."
And soon, the five members of MTF Psi-12, division 114 had left the thirteen-story apartment behind, with another uneventful mission completed.
Item #: SCP-RRRR
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: One copy of SCP-RRRR is to be stored on a secure Foundation server. Any experiments involving SCP-RRRR require the approval of a level 3 personnel.
Foundation web crawlers are to search for and delete any instances of SCP-RRRR found. Any personnel involved in verifying the web crawlers' results must have a minimum of class-3C cognitohazard training.
Foundation web crawlers are also to search the Internet for individuals who may be SCP-RRRR-1B or -1C instances. Foundation agents are then to covertly question the identified targets. If the targets are found to be -1B or -1C instances, agents are to meet with and amnesticize the targets, following the guidelines in Document RRRR-1. Any Foundation personnel who become -1B or -1C instances are to be given the same amnestic treatment.
Description: SCP-RRRR is an edited version of the ████ company's music video for the song Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. SCP-RRRR appears identical to the original video, but in fact contains several audio and video cognitohazards. When any subject with functioning hearing and sight views and listens to the video for more than ten seconds, they become an instance of SCP-RRRR-1. SCP-RRRR-1 instances possess an anomalous effect that causes certain media near the instance to play SCP-RRRR instead of its original contents. There are three different types of SCP-RRRR-1:
- SCP-RRRR-1A. The most common type of SCP-RRRR-1, comprising more than 98% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.
- SCP-RRRR-1B. Significantly rarer than -1A, SCP-RRRR-1B instances make up roughly 1% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.
- SCP-RRRR-1B. The rarest of the three types, consisting of less than 0.5% of individuals who have viewed SCP-RRRR.
Item #: SCP-BBBB (temporary designation)
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures: Inapplicable.
Description: No details about SCP-BBBB are currently known, or theoretically knowable. All information regarding SCP-BBBB, whether verbal, textual, or otherwise, immediately becomes obfuscated by a type-Lear antimemetic agent3 upon creation. This has rendered research nearly impossible, as there are no known counteragents to type-Lear antimemetics other than natural-born resistance.4 Current attempts at research take one of three routes:
- Attempts to extract details about SCP-BBBB from what little obfuscated information is available. This has been largely unsuccessful, as there are no known methods capable of consistently recovering information distorted by a type-Lear antimemetic.
- Attempts to deduce details about SCP-BBBB from information about information about SCP-BBBB, as such information is not affected by the type-Lear antimemetic. Once again, this is largely unsuccessful, due to both the limited amount of such information, and the natural difficulty of such a process.
- Attempts to take action against, and hopefully gain information about, SCP-BBBB by using individuals immune to type-Lear antimemetics to direct personnel with no knowledge of SCP-BBBB or the significance of their actions. This is currently the most successful of the three research options, though progress is still limited.
The primary source of information on SCP-BBBB is a document titled SCP-\̅\̅\̅\̅, which is currently disguised as a satirical article.
On July 5, 2022, a swarm of locusts escaped from a facility hidden deep in the Nevadan desert.
On July 21, 2022, a concealed emergency beacon in rural Idaho did not receive its daily signal from Site 19.
The machine pinged Site 31. It received no response. Nor did it get one from Site 84, Site 119, or Site 12. The machine methodically worked its way through its list of 8,547 sites, facilities, and research stations. Not a single one replied.
So the machine waited 24 hours, and tried again. And again. And again and again and again. And after a full year, after confirming for the 365th time that none of the Foundation's facilities would respond to it, it moved to the next step in its protocol.
The machine deactivated its antimemetic cloaking system, and began to call for help.
"Hello? Can anyone hear me? Hello? If you can hear me, push the red button!"
If this voice had called out on any other day, it would have been speaking to nothing but dust and rubble. But today, a woman heard this voice, and followed it to its source. A dull grey rectangle, the size of a digital tablet, but a good deal thicker. She pushed the red button.
"Oh, thank god! I've been calling out for the past… I don't even know how many days. I was afraid I was just yelling into the void. You can understand me, right?"
"Y-Yes. Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear, ma'am. Now, where do I begin…"
And as the machine's electronic brain whirred, it remembered a critically important fact.
"Wait. The locusts. Are the locusts still out there?"
The woman sighed. "No, not anymore. Most of them died out three or four months after it all started. Ran out of food, it seems. So did the rest of us."
"Oh. That's… mostly good news, I think. May I ask your name?"
"Caroline North. What's yours?"
"I am Senior Researcher Stephen Chen of the SCP Foundation. Or, more accurately, I am an artificial intelligence based off the late Dr. Stephen Chen's neural patterns."
"You're a what?"
"I think you'd better find somewhere comfortable to sit down, Ms. North. This is going to be a long story."
And after Caroline North had found a rock to sit on, the machine began to talk.
"First off, some background. I was from the SCP Foundation, a clandestine organization whose primary goal is ensuring the continued survival of mankind, by protecting it from anomalous threats - aliens and monsters and demons that by all means should not exist."
"Hold on. You're joking, aren't you?"
"I assure you, Ms. North, that I am completely serious."
"No, you can't be. There's no way that's true."
"It's not a lie, Ms. North. The Foundation is very real - was very real, at least."
"What, you expect me to believe that you guys are like the- like the goddamn Men in Black or something?"
"That's not quite how I would've described us, but it's close enough."
Caroline began to speak again, but the machine cut her off. "Ms. North, I know all of this is hard to believe. But I need you to do just that. You've seen your world quite literally torn apart by flesh-eating locusts. Those were real enough, weren't they? There are more monsters just like them. Worse, even. The Foundation has been protecting mankind from them, until now."
"No, no. The locusts were… I don't know, different. There can't be more."
"Ms. North, what would I have to do to make you believe me?"
"I don't know. Show me something, I guess. Prove to me that this sci-fi bullshit is real."
"All right."
And the machine played a disharmonious series of notes, terrible shrieking sounds that sent shivers down her spine.
"Okay, now try lifting your left arm."
Caroline tried, and found that she couldn't. "What the hell did you do to me?"
"A cognitohazard, Ms. North. Certain stimuli can have unusual and even anomalous effects when perceived. Don't worry about the arm, it'll wear off in about a minute. But do you believe me now?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. This is… this is a lot to take in."
"I see. Can I at least ask you to listen?"
"Yeah. I'll listen."
"Alright. This is the story of how the Foundation ended the world."
"In March of last year, a friend of ours introduced us to some locusts. They ate their way through plants like you wouldn't believe, and they reproduced just as quickly, but they were harmless. So we took them in and gave them a cell, and we started experimenting on them. All according to standard operating procedure. About half a year later, some poor guy walks into the containment chamber and had the flesh stripped from his bones, and then had his bones eaten as well. We didn't think much of that at the time. We'd seen flesh-eating monsters by the dozen; one more wouldn't be a problem. So we just upped the security and called it a day."
Caroline nodded.
"Then they started eating through their cell, and we started worrying. Fortunately for us, we figured out early on that they couldn't eat through glass. We lined their cell with half an inch of solid reinforced glass, and for a while it looked like that was the end."
"But it wasn't, was it?"
"No, it wasn't. And some of us were thinking, and they were worried. First eating meat, then chewing through their cells. These mutations only started after they came into our custody."
"You're saying the mutations were your fault?"
"I still can't say for sure. But it was certainly a possibility, and a strong one at that. But our scientists were afraid that these mutations were only the beginning, that it would only get worse. And on July 25, 2022, their worst fears became reality. The locusts started eating glass as well. They ate straight through their containment cell, the surrounding facility, and almost certainly all of the personnel stationed there. We detonated the on-site nuclear device, but even that didn't stop them. We received reports of the locusts in California around noon, and it just kept getting worse from there. And then…"
"We end up at today, right? The locusts are gone, but so is everything else."
"Correct. That about sums things up."
Caroline was quiet for a long time. And just when the machine was about to ask her if everything was alright, she spoke.
"How could you let this happen?"
"I'm sorry?"
"How the hell did you fuck things up this badly? You're some top-secret high-tech organization, right? You said you've been protecting us for- for- I don't know how long, but for a long time, right? How the fuck could you have let this happen to us?"
"There were several developments we weren't expecting, Ms. North. The glass- we never thought they'd start eating glass- And even the nuclear detonation failed to-"
"No, that's not the problem here! Why didn't you just kill the bastards when you had the chance? You had them right there, locked up in your cage! Why didn't you end it there and then?"
"Because we couldn't. That's not who we were as an organization. Our motto was 'Secure, Contain, Protect'. And that wasn't just for mankind, it was for the anomalies too. We couldn't afford to destroy any more than we had to. We needed to learn all we could about these anomalies, because knowledge was our greatest weapon against them."
"And you couldn't have learned enough from their goddamn corpses?"
"We thought keeping them alive was the wisest course of action. We thought we were safe - more than safe enough. We didn't think any of this could have happened."
"And now the world's gone to hell and everyone is fucking dead!"
"I know."
Both of them were silent for a while. Then, the machine spoke again.
"I'm sorry."
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry. On behalf of the Foundation, I want to apologize to you. You're right. We could have done better. We should have done better. We should have made sure none of this ever happened in the first place. There were so many things we did wrong, so many mistakes we never should have made. I'm sorry."
"… I had a fiance, you know."
The machine did not say anything, so Caroline continued.
"We were going to get married at the end of August last year. But then the locusts happened. When the government started evacuating our area, we were sent into different trucks. I went back to look for him later, after the locusts all died out."
"Did you find him?"
"I found his truck. Or what was left of it, anyways. There was nothing inside though. No body left to bury. Not even bones."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry won't bring him back."
"I know."
Silence again. If the machine had eyes, it would've seen the tears rolling down Caroline's face. And then:
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because we can fix this. We can fix all of this. The Foundation couldn't protect humanity this time, and I am truly sorry. But we can make things right. I just need your help."
"How?"
"We have a facility in Yellowstone, deep underground. There's machines there - a lot of machines. The details are complicated, but it can rebuild the world. It has cloning tanks, and the genetic data of everybody major political and cultural figure. It has the entire World Wide Web, with all its billions upon billions of pages. It has building materials and construction equipment too, enough to keep things going until we can manufacture more."
"And what, you just press a button and it'll fix everything?"
"More or less. I just need you to go there. It has to be manually activated by a human being."
"You couldn't have done this earlier?"
"We didn't want to risk it. Using this machine is a difficult decision to make, Ms. North. It doesn't just rebuild the world, it resets it - it'll erase everything that's happened up to now, replace it with a false history, make it seem as if none of this every happened. This isn't something we can do whenever we feel like it. This really is our final resort. We didn't want to use it unless we knew there was nothing else we could do."
"And you're sure now?"
"As sure as we can be."
"But why me? You guys still have people left, right? There's no way your entire organization is dead."
"We don't have anyone left, Ms. North. I was designed as a final contingency plan, the ultimate failsafe. I only activate when I fail to receive a response from every single one of the eight thousand, five hundred, and forty-seven Foundation sites in my database for three hundred and sixty-five continuous days. If any Foundation personnel were alive, I would have received a signal a long time ago."
"So you're all gone. Every single one of you."
"I'm afraid so. I know it's unfair to ask this of you, Ms. North, but we have nobody else."
"You can fuck off."
"I'm sorry?"
"I said you can fuck off. Fuck right off with this bullshit. I don't want anything to do with this. All I wanted was to get married, maybe have a kid, live out the rest of my life as an ordinary human being. I can't do something this important."
"Please, Ms. North. All you need to do is push a button."
"But it's not just a button. I don't know what the fuck you guys were thinking when you made this button, but there are things that Man does and there are things that God does, and resetting the entire goddamn world isn't something that mankind can go and do by itself, IS IT?
"We've done this before."
Caroline did not say anything, so the machine continued.
"We don't know when. We don't know why. We don't even know how many times. All we know is that the Yellowstone facility has been activated before. At some point in the past, somebody had to make the decision to abandon their world and everything in it, so that mankind could live on. Maybe it was someone from the Foundation, someone who had spent their entire life dealing with all the supernatural insanity hidden just beneath the surface of the universe. Or maybe it was someone like you, someone who lived a simpler life, a life of normalcy. But I don't think that difference is important. All that matters is that one day, somebody looked at their world, and looked at the button. Somebody asked themselves whether mankind should dare step into the domain of God. Somebody asked themselves whether they had the right to do this. Somebody asked themselves if humanity would be better off just giving up. And at the end of that day, somebody pushed the button. Please, Ms. North. Be that somebody."
"Go ask somebody else."
"I don't know if there is a 'somebody else'. Ms. North, I am begging you. Please."
"I've already told you, I won't do this."
"Ms. North, I've already given you an apology. And even if it doesn't mean much to you, I will apologize again. I am deeply and truly sorry, Ms. North. I am sorry that we have failed you. I am sorry that you have lost so much because of our mistakes. I know I have no right to ask this of you. But please. We fucked this up and we paid with our lives. We're all dead, Ms. North, every last one of us. Please, help us. For humanity's sake."
And if the machine had eyes, Caroline would've seen the tears rolling down its screen.
Caroline thought for a long time. She thought about her parents, her friends, her fiance. She thought about all the people she knew, and all the people she didn't. She thought about the world she once lived in, the world she loved, a world filled with life. It wasn't a perfect world. Some days, it wasn't even a good world. But no matter how bad it was, it was still her world.
She thought about the world as it was now. A world so different from the one before. A world without green grass and birdsong. A world without people. A world without life, all because some secret foundation couldn't keep a few locusts in their cage.
She thought about the button. All she had to do was push the button. All she had to do was take on the role of God, to save mankind by destroying everything that it had created.
She thought for an eternity, and then a bit longer.
And she sighed.
"I'll try. I can't promise anything, but I can try."
"Thank you, Ms. North. Thank you so much."
The dark
Curse of immortality
Skywriter chalk
Scpgoat
Reset (176)
Resurgence (The price we pay)
Notice:
This file is part of a collection of 6 files. Please see the bottom of the page for links to other files.
File 1: SCP-4000
File 2: SCP-4000, archived version
File 3: Phenomenon #177
File 4: Journal of Yamada Katamune
File 5: Lament to Chaac
File 6: The birth of Fire
Item #: 4000
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4000 and roughly 2km2 of surrounding land are currently disguised a private nature reserve, and public access is restricted accordingly. Any unauthorized people who enter SCP-4000 are to be removed from the area. Amnestics may be administered as necessary. Any person or people entering SCP-4000 with the apparent intent to use its anomalous properties are to be removed from the area immediately, using lethal force if necessary.
SCP-4000's active area is to be mapped and recorded daily, and any significant or unusual changes reported to the current head researcher.
Description: SCP-4000 is a roughly circular 1km2 area of land near the Tankwa Karoo National Park, South Africa. SCP-4000's sole anomalous property is its unusually low Hume level (90 Hm, ±2 Hm), effectively granting any people within the area the ability to manipulate reality. Due to the small difference between the average human's internal Hume level and the Hume level of SCP-4000, individuals are unable to cause any significant changes. However, testing has shown that a large number of people can cause larger changes to reality if they focus on the same event.
SCP-4000's area is slowly shrinking, currently at a rate of approximately 1% per year. At this rate, its area will be halved in 70 years, and will decrease to a negligible size (effectively disappearing) in less than 1400 years.
Archived documents indicate the existence of other areas with similar properties to SCP-4000, but extensive testing with Kant counters has revealed them all to currently be within acceptable variation for normal reality. It is presumed that the other such areas have already disappeared in a manner similar to SCP-4000's current shrinkage.
The following is the first archived version of SCP-4000's primary file, written June 27, 1977.
Item #: 4000
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Public access to all SCP-4000 instances has been blocked off through a variety of means, typically by the Foundation purchasing the affected area of land. See Document 4000-C for specific details regarding each instance. Any civilians who enter an SCP-4000 instance are to be removed from the site. Amnesiacs may be given to those who become aware of SCP-4000's anomalous effects.
All tests involving SCP-4000 require Level 3 approval, and must be appropriately recorded in the testing log. No personnel are to enter SCP-4000 instances without prior authorization.
Description: SCP-4000 is a collection of twelve (12) areas scattered around the world of various sizes (ranging from 2km2 to 500m2). All areas have unusually high Reality Stability Index (RSI) ratings5, with an average rating of 1.136. It is currently unknown whether all SCP-4000 instances are manifestations of the same phenomenon, or if the anomaly in each area arises from a different cause.
Continued observations seem to show that all SCP-4000 instances are slowly shrinking in area, though the exact rate of change is difficult to measure. Both the cause of and the reason for this shrinkage is unknown.
Addendum 1 - List of instances:
| # | Location | Area (m2, 1 s.f.7) | RSI Rating |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Tankwa Karoo National Park, South Africa | 2,000,000 | 1.11 |
| 2 | Becan ruins, Mexico | 50,000 | 1.09 |
| 3 | Magadan, Russia | 8,000 | 1.12 |
| 4 | Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, Australia | 700,000 | 1.15 |
| 5 | Norwich, United Kingdom | 10,000 | 1.08 |
| 6 | Ise, Mie, Japan | 5,000 | 1.17 |
| 7 | ███████, Puerto Rico | 500 | 1.23 |
| 8 | Gummi, Nigeria | 900 | 1.06 |
| 9 | Athens, Greece | 7,000 | 1.17 |
| 10 | Lancaster, PA, USA | 80,000 | 1.12 |
| 11 | Caldera, Chile | 30,000 | 1.10 |
| 12 | Wuhan, China | 2,000 | 1.16 |
Addendum 2 - Partial test log:
For a full list of tests, please consult document 4000-TL.
All tests are to be recorded in the following format:
Location:
Procedure:
Outcome:
Notes: Section optional
Location: 4
Procedure: Roll dice 1000 times, have one (1) person attempt to influence outcome.
Outcome: Dice rolled the subject's chosen number 197 times.
Notes: Results are consistent with the site's RSI rating of 1.15.
Location: 4
Procedure: Roll dice 1000 times, have ten (10) people simultaneously attempt to influence outcome.
Outcome: Dice rolled the subjects' chosen number 235 times.
Location: 4
Procedure: Seven (7) people asked to prevent an ordinary tealight candle from extinguishing.
Outcome: Test was concluded after ten hours without the candle extinguishing.
Location: 4
Procedure: Seven (7) people asked to change the colour of a sheet of paper.
Outcome: After twenty minutes, the paper was observed to have developed a slight blue tinge.
Location: 5
Procedure: Game of poker among four (4) Foundation employees. Only one (Dr. ██████) knew that the location was an SCP-4000 site. Test was unauthorized.
Outcome: Dr. ██████ won the game by a significant margin, with winnings of over $███.
Notes: Dr. ██████ has been reprimanded for this incident, and his winnings confiscated.
"I'd like to remind personnel that SCP-4000, like all other SCP objects, is not to be used for personal gain. Anyone caught doing so will be punished." - Site Director █████
Location: 4
Procedure: Roll dice 1000 times, have ten (10) people simultaneously attempt to influence outcome. Dice were rolled outside the SCP-4000 instance, though within visible range of the test subjects.
Outcome: Dice rolled the subjects' chosen number 228 times.
Location: 4
Procedure: Roll dice 1000 times, have ten (10) people simultaneously attempt to influence outcome. Dice were rolled outside both the SCP-4000 instance and the visible range of the test subjects.
Outcome: Dice rolled the subjects' chosen number 240 times.
Location: 7
Procedure: Seven (7) D-class, all former members of GOI-████, asked to summon [REDACTED].
Outcome: Partial manifestation of [DATA EXPUNGED] de-manifested upon termination of all test subjects. 47 Foundation casualties.
Notes: All further tests involving [REDACTED] require O5 approval.
The following is a document from the archives of GoI-1677, "The Society for Research on Unusual Artefacts". GoI-1677 was an England-based organization focused on the documentation of anomalous objects and phenomenon, and was dissolved in 1795.
Designation: Phenomenon #177 - Indians of the Province of Pennsylvania
1689, July 22, Miles Westbrook
Last month, I visited a tribe of Indians near Bucks County for the purposes of trade, and there I noticed the most curious phenomenon. Every man, woman, and child there was at the peak of human condition. The men are tall and strong, the women are slim and beautiful, and the children are full of vigor. I asked them for their secret, but they claimed that their good health was entirely a consequence of their way of life. After further conversation, I am inclined to believe that they are also unaware of the source incredible fortune. I cannot draw any conclusions about this phenomenon, though I suspect it arises from some aspect of the land they live on.
1690, February 10, Alexander Davis
Though I have not seen them with my own eyes, I have heard similar tales of villages in Asia in which the people are similarly fortunate. Many of them claim that they have been blessed by their gods as a reward for their faith. My belief is that the source of this phenomenon lies in the bloodline of the people rather than the land, though I have no evidence for these claims.
The following is an excerpt from a journal found in NAME, Japan. This excerpt is presumed to have been written some time around TIME.
The following is the translation of an inscription found in Becan, a city of the Mayan civilization.
9.19.15.15.58
The following is a creation myth told by several native African tribes. This rendition combines aspects from various different tellings.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: Due to the harmless nature of SCP-XXXX, the low probability of its discovery, and the difficulty in capturing and containing it, wild instances of SCP-XXXX do not require containment. Any civilians who become aware of SCP-XXXX's existence may be amnesticized as necessary.
One instance of SCP-XXXX is to be contained for research purposes at Site-66, in a 50m X 50m X 5m room designed to emulate atmospheric conditions at 900m above sea level. Air in this room must be constantly circulated to ensure an adequate concentration of CO2, and artificially created clouds are to be released as a source of water once per day.
Description: Each instance of SCP-XXXX is a collection of microorganisms that is virtually indistinguishable from a cumulus cloud, except under close microscopic observation. Instances of SCP-XXXX typically range from 5m to 8m in length, though the largest recorded instance is 11.7m long. They attach themselves to fully-formed cumulus clouds, typically on the top or the sides. SCP-XXXX will detatch itself from the cloud when the cloud's length becomes less than approximately 25m. It is currently unknown how SCP-XXXX determines the size of the cloud.
The microorganisms that make up SCP-XXXX are referred to as SCP-XXXX-1, and resemble cyanobacteria in their structure. SCP-XXXX-1 produce energy via photosynthesis, collecting CO2 from the surrounding air and water from the attached cloud. SCP-XXXX-1 do not use chlorophyll for photosynthesis; instead, they use a previously unknown compound that absorbs light from the ultraviolet spectrum rather than the visible spectrum, and therefore appears white in colour.
SCP-XXXX-1 achieve flotation with large vacuoles filled with hydrogen gas, which is synthesized from water in the cloud. They are capable of expelling the hydrogen gas as a method of propulsion, though this behaviour is only seen when SCP-XXXX is migrating towards a new cloud. SCP-XXXX-1 also have multiple flagella, which they use to hold on to other SCP-XXXX-1. SCP-XXXX-1 reproduce very slowly, with a total growth rate of only about 5% per year.
SCP-XXXX's most notable feature is its hive mind. All SCP-XXXX-1 in an instance of SCP-XXXX are able to communicate to one another in order to coordinate their movements and maintain the appearance of a cloud. SCP-XXXX-1 do not have to be in contact with each other for this to take place, and an effective range of about 15m has been established during testing. If an instance of SCP-XXXX is split into two, and the two halves are separated past the effective range of the hive mind, each half will move towards a different cloud and form separate instances of SCP-XXXX. Conversely, if two instances of SCP-XXXX are brought within range of each other, they will join into a new, larger instance of SCP-XXXX.
SCP-XXXX was discovered during a study conducted by a team of NASA scientists. The unique characteristics of SCP-XXXX were noted by an undercover Foundation agent, who alerted the Foundation. All researchers involved were amnesticized without incident, and all related data was confiscated.
Addendum: From an evolutionary perspective, there isn't much of a chance that something like this could have developed. Yet from a human perspective, this is exactly the kind of thing that would benefit us the most. It really makes you wonder where this thing came from… -Dr. ██████
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: On the night of every new moon (as seen from ███████, Germany), Procedure ???-7 is to be carried out as follows:
One D-class with no religious beliefs is to be introduced into SCP-XXXX. Once possession has been confirmed, the D-class (hereby "the host" or "SCP-XXXX-2") is to be taken to Site-███. During the following lunar month, the host may be subject to interrogations or experimentation with the consent of at least one or two Level 3 researchers respectively. At the end of the lunar month, Procedure ???-7 is to be carried out again if SCP-XXXX-1 has left the host.
Currently, the cover story for these operations is _.
Note: As of incident XXXX-1, the host is to be restrained and gagged before entering SCP-XXXX-1, and is to be actively monitored by video surveillance and guarded by at least two guards as long as possession is confirmed. Termination is authorized if the host demonstrates suspicious behaviour (see Document XXXX-1 for details).
Description: SCP-XXXX is a church in the small town of ███████, Germany. The church itself is completely ordinary and non-anomalous. However, the church contains an incorporeal entity referred to as SCP-XXXX-1.
SCP-XXXX-1 will manifest itself in the twelve hours of the night of a new moon by possessing the human subject nearest the church. Testing has demonstrated that SCP-XXXX-1 "prefers" those with weak religious convictions. When SCP-XXXX-1 has selected a host (SCP-XXXX-2), it gains full control of the actions of said host.
Addendum 1: Interview log XXXX-1/Incident XXXX-1
The purpose of this interview was to obtain more information about SCP-XXXX-1's origins and past, for research purposes. At this time, SCP-XXXX-1 had not yet been designated a hostile entity.
Interviewer: Dr. Morris
Subject: SCP-XXXX-1, in the body of O████ S████
Dr. Morris: So, who exactly are you?
SCP-XXXX-2: Why, I'm O████ S████, of course.
Dr. Morris: No, that's who you're pretending to be. Who are you?
SCP-XXXX-2:
Dr. Morris:
SCP-XXXX-2:
Dr. Morris:
SCP-XXXX-2:
Dr. Morris: I'm sorry, that's all the time we have for today. We will continue this discussion tomorrow.
SCP-XXXX-2: Wait. Before you go, I have a question for you.
Dr. Morris: Yes, what is it?
SCP-XXXX-2: Do you fear me?
Dr. Morris: I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to answer that.
SCP-XXXX-2: You don't fear me, do you. Well, maybe it's time to teach you why you should.
Dr. Morris: Wait, what the hell are you drawi- security!
//At this point, the window separating SCP-XXXX-2 from Dr. Morris spontaneously explodes outwards. SCP-XXXX-2 breaks free from its restraints and attempts to escape, but is quickly subdued by the guards.
Dr. Morris was admitted to the infirmary with lacerations across his forearms and face caused by glass shards. He has since recovered, and has been commended for his quick thinking.
Video footage of Interview XXXX-1 shows that the language SCP-XXXX-2 spoke and drew in corresponds to [REDACTED]. This has prompted further research into that area, and though results are still uncertain, it is likely that SCP-XXXX-1 is related to [DATA EXPUNGED].
Audio Transcript of Video Log 12/5/20██
Dr. Winslow: Log entry number 2701, date 12/5/20██. SCP-████ has breached containment. The automated nuclear warhead has been triggered, and will detonate in five minutes unless the on-site MTF succeeds in recontaining SCP-████. Current success rate is estimated at ten percent. Current casualties sustained are fifteen deaths and twenty-seven injuries. End log.
(Dr. Winslow pauses for a few seconds)
Dr. Winslow: I… I guess that's it. Listen, if you guys find this, could you give it to Tracy for me? I want to talk to her one last time.
So… Tracy, if you're listening to this, I'd just like you to listen. I said ten percent, but there's no way the MTF's going to make it. It's a bloodbath out there, more and more people dying every second. The nuke's going to go off, all of us are going to die. Maybe we'll kill that damned monster, maybe not. Who knows.
You know, before I came here, my life was so incredibly different. Back then, the rest of my life meant thirty or forty years, now, it's maybe four minutes. It really makes you appreciate the little things in life.
Remember when we first met?
Son of Fritz Williams: The Administrationing
"And here we have Bob Williams, son of the late Fritz Williams, the founder of the SCP Foundation and the Supreme Lord of all. Bob has inherited his father's title and power, but he also has to take over his father's duties - something he is VERY unhappy about."
"Wait a second, who the heck are you? And how come I can't see you?"
"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just the invisible narrator, a poorly thought out plot device conjured to bypass the 'all dialogue or no dialogue' rule. Just keep going about your day as usual."
"…All right then…"
"Suddenly, a researcher bursts in through the door of Bob's office. What could he possibly want?"
"Mr. Williams, sir! We have a situation!"
"What is it this time, Fredrick? Let me guess, Keter-class scip breached containment? Or Chaos Insurgency attacks again?"
"Actually sir, it's neither. Site 19 just spontaneously lost all power. Everything is offline now. It's almost as if somebody is trying to create the setup to a really bad story."
"And what do you want me to do about it?"
"Well you see, everything has escaped. Every last scip has busted out of its cell and they're all running around wild. We've got fifty dead and two hundred injured already. Current calculations suggest a mass breach of Veil protocol in one and a half hours."
"Can't we just nuke the whole place? We've got plenty of nukes, don't we?"
"With all due respect, sir, we stand to secure, contain, and protect, not to destroy. All these SCPs kept in containment because we need to study them, to learn from them. We are humanity's-"
"All right, all right, I don't need the whole "we protect the world from weird stuff" speech again. Run along now, and I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you, sir.
"And with that, Mr. Fredrick Genericname left the office, leaving Bob to his own thoughts."
"AAAAH WHAT THE HECK! Could you not do that invisible talking thing? Also why is he a 'Mr.' but I'm not?"
"Well it sure sounds like SOMEBODY isn't ignoring me like he's supposed to!"
"Stupid invisible narrator… I should toss you in a cell with the rest of those scips…"
"Bob sat down in his incredibly expensive dragon-leather chair, handcrafted by a fifth-dimensional Elder God using only the finest of unicorn hair as thread, and began to think about how he could once again save the world from complete and utter destruction."
"I really should just nuke them, can't believe those stupid O5s won't let me do that. This is all your fault, dad. You could have used the Armageddon Protocol at any time you wanted, but noooo, the safety of all humanity came first. And now you're dead and you took the activation code with you. Why the hell did I even take this job?"
"Suddenly, a voice burst through the intercom. Mr. Genericname was back with updates… Bad updates."
"HOLY ACTUAL FECES PLEASE STOP DOING THAT"
"Mr. Williams? Is something the matter on your end?"
"No, no, everything's fine. What happened now?"
"Well, things certainly aren't fine on this end. Over 80% of the Site 19 staff are dead or injured, and we already have reports of wild scips running into populated areas. We've mobilized all our available agents to distribute amnestics, but we're not working fast enough. You really need to do something, sir."
"Once again, can't we just nuke them all?"
"I've told you already, sir. We can't risk that right now. We need a different solution."
"We have some sort of mass memetic amnestic thingy don't we? Cape Protocol or something?"
"Well, we do, but…"
"But what? All we have to do is toss that at them and wipe all their memories, right?"
"You see, the Cloak Protocol is satellite-based, so if we use it, it's either the entire country, or nobody at all."
"So? Safety of humanity first, right? Anyways, it's only like a week's worth of memory wiped, nobody's going to miss anything important."
"I suppose we don't have any better options now… I'll tell the O5s."
"Good. And after that, nuke them all. There's no need to waste time on recapturing all those scips."
"We'll see about that, sir."
"After some discussion with the O5s, the Cloak Protocol was activated, every citizen in the United States of America lost a week's worth of memories, and several small towns were suddenly struck by nuclear weapons and completely annihilated."
"Ha! What did I tell you, Fredrick? The nukes worked after all!"
"They did, but we've lost over 500 SCPs, Site 19 is still destroyed, and we've killed a few million innocent civilians."
"Yes, but it still worked, didn't it?"
"I guess they did, sir."
"Haha! I was right all along! Score one for Bob Williams!"
"And so, once again, the world was safe from the anomalous, at the cost of millions of lives and trillions of dollars. Thus ends another typical day in the life of Bob Williams, the son of Fritz Williams, the founder of the SCP Foundation and the Supreme Lord of all."
