Reject's Sandbox

Summary n shit

Hi! I'm Rejekyll, and this is my sandbox! My name isn't Reject anymore but I'm too lazy to change the url or anything. If you're here, you've either A) been linked to my sandbox, in which case, hi, or B) stumbled here, in which case, also hi.

For stuff that I'm actively working on, check out this page o'er here or this one that's also o'er here. Maybe "actually working on" isn't entirely accurate since I'm not very active these days. If you like anything you see here, and you want to do something with it, send me a PM. If it's on this page it's either already been posted or won't be in the foreseeable future.

I also have pages for contests and rewrites, if you feel like going through all my shit. I don't know why you'd waste your time on other people's sandboxes though. That's weird. But hey, it's your life.

Ideas:

• A GoI that uses SCPs to play jokes on people
  • They would get mad at people who try to make tasteless jokes (mass murder) because it's not funny, it's just fucked up. Waxx, that means you. Sorry.
• Exploding Nuns (how in the…)
• Groundhog Day Crossover (Agent in a timeloop, thinks the girl is an SCP)
• Tale about 173 trying to study the human eye: kills accidentally trying to get a closer look.
• Evil 5.14b
• Metal Clouds
• 001=meme, backstory of Foundation main selling point
• Reality-altering psychadelic
  • Does weird things to your body, OR
  • Is a large area affected by a reality bender's experience on a real psychadelic that has been removed from our spacetime by the Foundation!!

Also this is really cool.

Misc Entries

CHRISTMAS :)

I have been alive in this state for about a week, and there are a couple things that I've figured out. Firstly, I think I'm in a time (CHOP!) loop, because every eleven seconds, I wind up in the same place somehow. Second (CHOP! OW!) , axes really fucking hurt, and I feel one hacking at me all the time. Third, I am fully (CHOP!) conscious, even though my left arm keeps being chopped off. Finally, the sky is (CHOP! OW!) for some reason changing; it used to be my house, then it got all dark, then an office. Although it (CHOP!) is really hard to tell, what with everything outside being fisheyed and all the damn snow that keeps falling. And the worst (nonono CHOP!) bit is that my assailant isn't even human. In fact, other than his facial features, he's completely made of snow. (AUGH! CHOP! AUGH!). And here we go again!

---

SENIOR STAFF SHENANIGANS

Research Assistant Reject was having a nice, calm day, sipping his coffee and skimming through his newest batch of paperwork while strolling down the hallway to his office. He was called Reject for a very good reason: although he had been a member of the Foundation for ten years, he had been the same rank for over seven of them. He even called himself Reject. His bachelorhood had hopelessly dragged on much longer than he had ever hoped. He was used to being a reject. That was, until he spotted a man in a suit walking into Dr. Clef's office.

Reject was never known as an especially observant person, but today was different. He had heard about some pranks going on, but he didn't really care about any of that. He was determined to work his way up the ladder without shaving cream or explosives, just with hard work and dedication. Until he saw a very happy man running out of Dr. Clef's office, his arms crossed upon his chest. Reject could see a brown paper bag bobbing slightly above and below the man's arms. His interest piqued, Reject decided to follow him.

The man never turned around as he walked. Reject didn't have any trouble following him. Ten minutes later, Reject realized just how far they had walked. He turned his head. "Accounting —>" was written on a sign, pointing in the direction that he was going. After another couple of minutes, the man turned sharply into an office. Reject peeked into the room to see another man converse shortly with the man he had followed and take the bag. Reject ducked behind a corner as both men exited the office.

Reject attempted to follow the man with the bag, but lost him in the maze of cubicles and offices in this unknown sector. Reject turned to leave, but decided not to let this go. This chance was his. He called up an old friend from Sector 28 with a favor to ask. His friend agreed, and in an hour, Reject knew that he would have the chance to become a Senior Staff member.

One hour later, Reject met his friend in the cafeteria. Reject's friend handed him a bag with two words written on it. "DON'T LOSE." Reject smiled, and walked briskly down towards the accounting offices. Once there, he took the item out of the bag. Staring at a sentient calculator was a new experience for him. After befriending SCP-168, he asked his new buddy a favor. The calculator agreed in return for the ability to see the rest of the prank war. Reject dropped SCP-168 in the office he had seen before as soon as the man inhabiting it left. Reject admired his handiwork. He took a seat on a nearby chair. When the man returned, he gave Reject a questioning glance, but dismissed it. After five minutes in his office, a scream was heard. When the man exited his office, his face was pale white. In his hand was SCP-168.

The man looked at the calculator and said "Okay, okay. I'll go get it. I didn't realize the world would end if I didn't! I feel so awful…" Reject chuckled to himself and began to shadow the man as he hurried down the hallways. When they arrived at a file cabinet, the man stopped. He ran his finger along the cabinet until he reached "2004 Operating Budget Reports Jan-Mar." He started typing on the calculator. After a short period, the calculator responded. The man jumped back, aghast. He yelped "No! I brought you to the stupid monkey! That can't be!" Reject quickly decided he'd had enough of complaining from this unknown man and dealt a swift uppercut to the jaw followed by an elbow to the nose. As he fell, Reject grabbed SCP-168 and the brown paper bag. Overjoyed, he began to walk back to his office. He looked once more at the unconscious accountant on the ground. And then he laughed, and left this bloody, deceptive business behind him as he strolled back towards his office with a renewed sense of confidence.

---

ANOTHER LEGEND

The following audio log was recovered from the archives of Site 17 following Incident ████-██.

"This is Agent Nectunt. Ya'll done fucked up big time."

"Excuse me? Agent, I'll have you know that none of our intel suggested that a Keter-level Scip would run through Site 19. We normally contain and assess threats rather than assess right on the spot."

"Ya'll still fucked up."

"We've had worse containment breaches, Agent."

"A giant pig ran straight through Site 19, snagging Dr. Rights and taking her with it."

"It was an unforeseeable tragedy, Agent. Fortunately we have intelligence suggesting where the Scip will be next, though. Your mission will be to intercept it. Hopefully you should get the chance to recover Rights while you're at it."

"Great. Where do want me? My team sorta died thanks to your little 'unforeseeable tragedy'."

"Um… we're gonna need a bit of time to fully prepare your team, Nectunt. It's dangerous to go alone!"

"I'm ready now."

"Agent Nectunt, you are going to wait for a full Task Force to assist you."

"Yeah, whatever. How long should it be until we set out?"

"Seven years."

"You want us to wait for seven fucking years to catch a Scip that we saw less than twelve hours ago?"

"Yeh. Don't blame the intel, Agent. It's all we've got."

"That's idiotic."

"…"

"Where do you expect us to be after that?"

"Remember that forest you went to? With the huge, possibly sapient tree?"

"You can't be serious. Lemme guess, then you want us to go back to the cave that pretty much collapsed on us."

"Actually, we may want you at a slightly higher elevation. In a volcano."

"I can't fucking believe that I'm hearing this. Fuck you."

"Listen! Agent Nectunt, I'd like to ask you to relax. Once the mission begins, it should be quick work to check those locations."

"Are you kidding me? I spent three fucking months inside of 169!"

---

Epic Rap Battle

Note: The following audio log was recovered security cameras inside of SCP-682's containment cell during Incident 682-076-1JF4D-NA5, in which SCP-076-2 breached containment and engaged in combat with SCP-682. For the full incident report, please refer to Document 682-076-1JF4D-NA5.

Begin Log

SCP-076-2: You say you fucked my mother? I'll fucking kill you, man. Nobody fucks with A-to-the B L E.

SCP-682: Faggot, you just wish you was me. Stop playing, maybe I'll spare you.

SCP-076: Yea, yea, yea, yea, alright boy, this time you asked for it!
A vat of acid, that's your decorum?
Check my swag, I'm back in a black case
Just in case you missed the memo, I'm based!

I'm the king of the hill, as real as they come,
You was probably rich, but I came from the slums.
A heart of darkness, but I came the farthest,
Your flow is retarded, if I want beef then I'll start it!

SCP-682: I killed you before, I can do it some more.
I'm getting hundreds, you got twenties, but lemme settle the score.
No cheap ass screwball from off the street
Can withstand the weight beneath 682's feet!

I'm the out-of-town gangster, major shot-caller,
I call guard's necks snapbacks, which I brought back, holla,
I'm a straight up baller, rhyming sicker than HOVA,
You the sun of a gun, I scare the shit out of Jehova.

SCP-076: Ay yo, let's be real, eh?
I'm the realest realist, I never change,
You have to adapt and move, can't stick with one flow
But I can spit so hot that my fucking mouth glows.

What's your killcount total? Every time I win!
The greatest warrior of all time, the rhymes I spin,
The lives chagrined at the child of Him,
And the Grandson of the One, I'm able to spit, bitch.

SCP-682: Hahaha, call that a line, close your eyes and stay alive
You can die from minutes with me, and yes, I've tried.
Call yourself a superhero when you're really super queer, yo,
Yo shit's cheesier than Cheetos, gayer than a speedo.

Sorry, when's the last time I lost my life? Never!
You can't live more than a few years, but me? Forever!
You can die and come back, fag, and get smacked.
My casual causality actually gets stacks.

Weak from the human pussy you got? Please.
You get less than that ████ SCP-073.
I take mine, stay fly, make Rights get wide
I'm a killer all day, all night. Alright?

682, a legendary number,
Cuz a real OG went and made it a Wonder.
I got so many pocket dimensions, call them lint,
I see your eensy weensy knives and their even littler glint

SCP-076: The smallest knife I got outreaches your body,
at 100 percent, yet, to which you never get,
Then I whip out the swagger dagger, old school like Atari
and knock off your right side, bitch, match, game and set!

You just a real hater, and you been recorded saying it.
You play the game just to win, but I play it to play it.
A primordial beast, you disgusting, fuck this,
So push me, pussy, I've been wanting to cut the shit.

Note: At this point, SCP-682 became even more enraged and pounced on SCP-076-2. After ██ seconds, vital signs for SCP-076-2 ceased.

SCP-682: Come at me, bro.

End Log

O5-14

Please, Everett, sit down! Who am I, you ask? Oh, I'm O5-14!

I don't exist? Bullshit. You know who else didn't exist? Hitler. Because I was him.

Oh, so has One been telling you all of his secrets? I bet you're enjoying his little tales so much. My favorite tale of his is the one where he got bitten by a radioactive spider and became the hero Site 19 needed, not the one it deserved! What? You're asking if it's true? I don't know, do your own research, you lazy jackass.

Real Book SCP

This page does not exist.

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The "scp-XXXX" does not and has not ever existed.

Create Page

SCP-XXXX

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Item #: SCP-1023

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1023 is to be contained inside a 35cm x 25cm x 10cm concrete locker in Site ██. Next to this locker is a specially designed computer that must be updated in sync with SCP-1023. Entries in this computer cannot be deleted and are backed up on Foundation servers for security reasons. SCP-1023 must be checked at least twice every 24 hours. If any change is discovered, two O5 staff must be alerted immediately in order for Mobile Task Force Omicron-8 to mobilize and the computer must be updated with the new entry word for word.

Description: SCP-1023 resembles a paperback "How to" manual for an unknown programming language, apparently called "Skillet." The book is approximately 0.5 cm thick, although upon closer inspection, the book is revealed to have over █00 pages, all written in modern English. On the inside of the book are two chapters, the first of which starts on the very first page. There is no title page, table of contents, or publisher's page. The final page does contain valuable information (see addendum 1023-01) The first chapter is titled "What Can't Happen." The second and longer chapter is titled "How it Might Happen." The first chapter details an extremely improbable [DATA EXPUNGED]. The second chapter explains ways that [DATA EXPUNGED] could take place. From this information, the Foundation has gathered that if any of the "final events" (referring to [DATA EXPUNGED] explained in the first chapter of SCP-1023) listed in Chapter Two were to actually happen, a ZK Reality Failure would be inevitable.

SCP-1023 has been reported to create pages despite a lack of supplied materials, seemingly in order to continue itself once all the space from the previous pages has been used up. How this process takes place is currently unknown. Font sizes and formatting have not ever changed to accommodate page constraints; rather, pages have simply been added without affecting any preexisting physical traits of SCP-1023. In addition, any "pertinent events" detailed in the second chapter that have been successfully avoided disappear from SCP-1023 as soon as a page is filled with nullified information. Full entries have spanned from a short paragraph to over █ pages. All recorded entries since recovery have been backed up on a computer, also located in the containment area of SCP-1023.

An excerpt from Chapter Two: "How it Might Happen," which has since disappeared. This excerpt was chosen for its relative brevity.

Responsible Party: [DATA REDACTED]
Date of final event: December 8th, 1999.
Pertinent events: "The Cuban Missile Crisis," "The 1980 United States Election," "The book 'Atlas Shrugged' by Ayn Rand," "The Murder of ██████ ███████," [MULTIPLE DATA EXPUNGED], "The Foundation's recovery of 'SCP-███' from [REDACTED]."

According to extensive research by Dr. ██████, SCP-1023 only lists "final events" that have at least one "pertinent event" that has already taken place. Since recovery, no listed "final events" have been allowed to take place due to the Foundation's efforts in derailing at least one of the listed "pertinent events." The fluctuation in the number of pages has never exceeded a range of ██.

Incident Report 1023-C:

SCP involved: SCP-1023
Date: █/██/200█
Location: Site ██ and ████████ Public Library, ████████, ██.
Description: At 16:20 local time, an extraordinary amount of constantly fluctuating energy in the form of sound, light, and [EXPUNGED] was detected emanating from SCP-1023 in a straight line towards ████████ Public Library, in the nearby town of ████████. Most of the energy went straight through SCP-1023's containment, multiple walls and rooms in site ██, and through miles of terrain before ending the trail abruptly at the library. Most of the unexplained energy ceased its strange movement within a couple of minutes, after MTF Omicron-8 had arrived at ████████ Public Library.
Follow up procedures: 1█ Foundation agents were sent to ████████ Public Library to inspect. The findings were inconclusive; although there were similar abnormalities to do with light, sound, and [DATA EXPUNGED] energy, no cause for this was found. All books that had been at the library within a week of the incident were checked, but showed no anomalous properties. No books in the "How to" section of the library referred at all to "Skillet." No security cameras were installed in the library at the time of Incident 1023-C. In light of this, security cameras have been installed and embedded agents have been stationed at ████████ Public Library.

Addendum 1023-01: The final page of SCP-1023 contains important information regarding a "backup copy." The book describes it as "a place to keep all the possibilities of events that can no longer take place." SCP-1023 does not explain where this new book can be attained or if it is even still in existence. SCP-1023 has shown no regenerative qualities other than the ability to add pages to itself. Due to testing, there is still a rip on the back cover of SCP-1023. Written on the inside back cover is a short note written in pen, reading "To Everybody, From Jackson." Attempts to attain information regarding "Jackson" have been fully fruitless as of ██/██/20██.

"SCP" SCP

SCP-1441

Item #: SCP-1441

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1441 is contained in Area 15, located in the ██████ Sound. It is surrounded by a sphere of wire mesh netting to ensure that no large objects enter the containment area.<!Chill about the net, okay? It's there because the Ethics Committee wanted it that way.> Access is to be denied to all persons attempting to enter regardless of rank. SCP-1441 must always be submerged in water from the ██████ Sound. Natural water currents are not to be obstructed, as that could potentially cause an ongoing Class 3 scenario. Guards are positioned no closer to SCP-1441 than the second barrier.

During Class 2 and 3 scenarios, SCP-1441 must be remotely monitored. If any drastic change in behavior is noted, the Director of Area 15 is to be notified immediately. No attempts to rescue items or personnel from SCP-1441 should be made. In the unlikely case that the ██████ Sound begins to drain, Protocol Tempest is to be enacted.

Description: SCP-1441 is a set of metal statues, twenty-six (26) in total (individually referred to as SCP-1441-1 through -26). All appear to be of children with heights ranging from 1.32m to 1.43m. SCP-1441 can be in three distinct states of motion, referred to as Class 1-3 scenarios. During a Class 1 scenario, no movement is detected. This is the ideal state for SCP-1441 to be in for containment. During Class 1 and 2 scenarios, SCP-1441 are standing in a circle, each one grasping the hands of the statues adjacent to them, and facing outwards.

During a Class 2 scenario, SCP-1441 will animate slightly, shifting themselves with the apparent goal of counter-clockwise locomotion. The hands on SCP-1441 will also raise and lower slightly during these moments. Bubbles can be seem emanating from the mouths as well. This state must be monitored closely as it can transition quickly into a Class 3 scenario.

A closeup of SCP-1441-7, directly proceeding a Class 3 scenario

When a solid object with a mass greater than 40g enters the center of the circle formed by SCP-1441 (hereafter the Activation area), SCP-1441 animate and attempt to destroy said object. This is known as a Class 3 scenario. Fortunately, small natural currents are present around SCP-1441, with the effect that small, light, objects cannot enter the circle in the center of SCP-1441.

SCP-1441 have shown remarkable strength and agility in this state, though the extent of these qualities has not been found. SCP-1441 have been observed utilizing multiple different tactics when neutralizing a target, including mixed martial arts, pressure point application (to humans and machines), and highly coordinated teamwork. After eliminating and disposing of solid materials, SCP-1441 instances will return to their original positions and revert to a Class 1 scenario.

SCP-1441 have ventured as far as 1.3km away from the Activation Area in order to neutralize a target. Attempts to intercept SCP-1441 between neutralizing a solid object and returning to the Activation area have been met with what is referred to as a Class 3.5 scenario, where SCP-1441 will become hostile but instead focus on returning to their original position circling the Activation Area.

SCP-1441 avoids attacking its separate parts, even if it would normally be motivated to do so.

Addendum:

OVERSEER CLEARANCE REQUIRED

Partial Manifest of Recovered Materials

Note: The full manifest of recovered materials is in Document 1441-5-H12-8X4

• One damaged Scranton box¹
  • Recovered Document (see below)
  • ~20.9 kg of brick, scattered inside and outside
• ~4,000 kg of containment-grade concrete

Recovered Document

Note: The document was recovered from a Scranton box, though evidence suggests that the box did not function perfectly.

Item #: S[DATA LOST]

[DATA LOST]ject Class: Ket[DATA LOST]

Special Contai[DATA LOST]ures: SC[DATA LOST]rea 56, located at a depth of ███ feet in the ██████ Sound. Guards are positioned around the containme[DATA LOST]ntervals, armed with sub-machine guns. Outside of the preliminary containment is another room lined with SC[DATA LOST]nd three sniper positions, ensuring that the roof of Area 56 is never breached. [DATA LOST]ncrete walls, s[DATA LOST] Contac[DATA LOST]hibited, except in special cases. Written consent must be obtained from Dr. █████ and the head of Are[DATA LOST]nstant reviewing of this docu[DATA LOST]ure that it is not destr[DATA LOST]

Descr[DATA LOST]entience and sapience. The reali[DATA LOST]not currently understood, as is the extent of the reality bendi[DATA LOST]lthough the orifices have shown to have a profound effect on SCP-█[DATA LOST]oyed. Subjec[DATA LOST]en.

[DATA LOST, OMITTING SMALL NONDESCRIPT LETTERS SCATTERED THROUGHOUT. MULTIPLE PARAGRAPHS BELIEVED TO HAVE BEEN LOST]

[DATA LOST]ndum 02: In light of Inci[DATA LOST]stioned it, to which we believe the response was akin to laughter. SCP-██[DATA LOST]ermore, called Agent █████ a "child." Due to its nature, it is possible that Agent █████ may undergo physical and mental chang[DATA LOST] misconceives reality and changes it to match its perception. If no attempt can be made to convince SC[DATA LOST]erwise, contact must be fully prohibited in order to stop it from altering reality further. Just the smallest misconception about its containment could mean an XK-end-o[DATA LOST]ause it may already have. The metal and concrete room, "containment," and Agent █████ may have already melded in its mind. The only wa[DATA LOST]ot the only on[DATA LOST]

[DATA LOST] The changes have already begun to occur. The three aspects (metal/concrete, "containment," "child") are melding Are[DATA LOST]et out[DATA LOST]
[DATA LOST, OMITTING SMALL NONDESCRIPT LETTERS AND PHRASES SCATTERED THROUGHOUT. FULLY UNREDACTED DOCUMENT IS AVAILABLE, SEE DOCUMENT 1441-5-G93-1S2]

Classroom SCP

Item #: SCP-1026

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1026 is to be contained in Area 7, built around it. Standard procedures are to be enacted in the case of a civilian entering Area 7, including the administration of Class A amnesiacs. Subjects who have undergone testing are to be terminated immediately afterwards except in special cases due to the risk of sudden and uncontrollable onset of "characters." Guards are to be positioned at all times outside of SCP-1026 to deny entry to all personnel except under testing conditions. The door to SCP-1026 is to be locked except during testing.

Description: SCP-1026 is a second-grade classroom located in [REDACTED] Elementary School, [REDACTED], United States. Area 7 has been built around the school due to its inherent immobility. SCP-1026 has twenty-five metal desks with attached seats, one chalkboard, and wooden flooring. Above the chalkboard and around the perimeter of the room are paper cutouts of the letters of the English alphabet, along with other minor furnishings fully consistent with other classrooms in that school. No other parts of the school demonstrate any abnormal properties. Anomalies occur when certain actions are performed within SCP-1026. When such specific actions occur, subjects immediately undergo strong personality changes, acting like one of twenty-one (21) “characters” rather than themselves.

The onset of new personalities takes place between one (1) and seven (7) seconds after the triggering action is taken. Subjects abruptly revert to their normal personalities when they exit SCP-1026 or are in SCP-1026 for more than ██ minutes. Random reoccurrences of these characters in subjects have also been reported, albeit rarely and not for long periods of time (see Incident Report 1026-B). The actions performed by a subject correspond to a specific character, even if the subject and the character are of different genders. However, no characters as of yet have been reported to perform gender-specific actions.

Fewer than five (5) characters have been evaluated to be fully sane. Partial psych evaluations have been conducted on subjects (see Psych Log 1026). Researchers working on SCP-1026 have concluded that almost all of these characters match the records of a class of schoolchildren attending [REDACTED] Elementary School in 1931, none of whom are alive as of ██/██/████.

Excerpted from Experiment Log 1026-A.

Action taken by subject: Writing on a wall or chalkboard.
Record of subject: Subject begins to exhibit symptoms of Tourette Syndrome immediately after the action is performed. As with Tourette Syndrome, the affected subject will adopt a tic. In this case, the subject will develop a strong chorea and will jitter uncontrollably. Subject will respond to "Gus," although prolonged interviewing has not proved fruitful due the inability of the subject to concentrate and, at times, talk.
Brief evaluation of character: Gus seems to have Tourette Syndrome. In the early 1930s, no significant medication was available for controlling tics caused by mental disorders such as Tourette Syndrome.
-It should be noted that it was this character who spawned the urban legend, leading the Foundation to SCP-1026. -Dr. ██████

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Action taken by subject: Consumption of one’s own mucus.
Record of subject: Subject becomes violently angry, attempting to smash whatever they can reach, and will screech at any persons coming near (see Incident Report 1026-B). Subject responds to “Annabelle.”
Brief evaluation of character: Multiple experiments with this character have shown that it is only on very rare occasions that she does not act in this fashion. It has been shown to be nearly impossible to gather very much information from Annabelle for the previously stated reason. Attempts to calm her down so far have been met with failure.

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Action taken by subject: Lighting an object on fire.
Record of subject: Subject immediately attempts to light the rest of SCP-1026 on fire. Targets of this urge include but are not limited to desks, chalk, the wooden floor, and themselves. Subject also has attempted to light the air in front of them on fire. He avoids physical altercation, even when armed. Subject responds to “Jimmy.”
Brief evaluation of character: Jimmy shows early warning signs of a serial arsonist or at the very least, a pyromaniac. However, his fear of fighting shows that he may also be highly insecure. Jimmy is easily interviewed, having an IQ of 90 (slightly below average).

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Action taken by subject: Tripping a female human.
Record of subject: Subject develops a sadistic sense of humor, showing a strong preference for tripping other people. Subject shows a preference to attacking female humans, but is ecstatic no matter who his victim is. He also strives to cause as much pain to his victims as possible, sometimes picking up and dropping desks or chairs on to his targets. Subject responds to “Roger.”
Brief evaluation of character: Roger appears to be highly chauvinistic, much more so than is normal for boys his age. In addition, this character expresses happiness at the sight of people sustaining serious injuries. More often than not, Roger causes these injuries. If not prevented from doing so, Roger proceeds to kill and sometimes dismember his victims. He has an IQ of 125 (above average).

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Action taken by subject: Vaginal or anal penetration of one or more persons.
Record of subject: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Brief evaluation of character: [DATA EXPUNGED]

Addendum 01: Due to the lack of new information emerging from experimentation on already-evaluated characters, testing with them is hereby prohibited. However, testing of new characters is to be continued until further notice. - O5-█

Addendum 02: Cross referencing experiment logs and records of [REDACTED] Elementary School show that there were four students in the class who have not yet been triggered in subjects. The teacher has also not appeared in our experiment logs. Testing must continue until those five characters are discovered and assessed. -Dr. ██████

-EX SCP

Item #: SCP-1918-EX

Object Class: Euclid/Keter Neutralized

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1918 is an extreme biohazard, and as such, protocol involving SCP-1918 must be enacted with extreme caution. Samples of SCP-1918 are kept in [REDACTED], in [REDACTED] airtight containers, each containing ███mg. Personnel testing SCP-1918 are to be terminated following the conclusion of their experiments. Termination methods are limited to cremation, along with the incineration of all objects foreign to the quarantined room surrounding the containers of SCP-1918. In this room are two separate airlocks, an incinerator, samples of SCP-1918, and laboratory equipment selected by Site Director Walsh. Samples of SCP-1918-EX are contained in multiple non-Foundation-owned locations; however, no experimentation is necessary at this point and samples are to be left alone.

Description: SCP-1918-EX appears to be a mutation of a virus commonly known as [REDACTED], currently classified in the family Orthomyxoviridae. This mutation has been shown to have a much higher lethality and infectiousness than the original strain. Although many civilians have developed an immunity to the original virus, it is hypothesized that very few will also be immune to SCP-1918-EX. How this virus is so deadly is currently unknown. Symptoms of SCP-1918-EX are nearly identical to the original strain, but with increased severity. These symptoms include high fever, chills, muscular pain, violent coughing, sore throat, and fatigue. The virus generally kills its victims utilizing hypercytokinemia, causing the immune system of the victim to overreact, with such collateral damage that the infected person ends up dying.

The pathogen is transmitted either through direct contact, second-hand contact, contact of bodily fluids, or through airborne routes. A minute amount of SCP-1918 is necessary to cause infection. The virus has also shown the ability to persist outside of the body for as long as three days. SCP-1918, like all related pathogens, infects the respiratory tract of a subject. Individual "cells" of SCP-1918 rarely travel beyond the respiratory tract to the stomach, heart, or intestines. More intensive study on the pathophysiology of SCP-1918 is currently underway.

Addendum 01, Origins: During one of the first approved tests of SCP-914, a sample of H2N2 was put through in a glass microscope slide set on "Fine." The slide was returned without any traces of H2N2, with SCP-1918-EX in its place. No further tests on H2N2 were conducted. Due to its anomalous origins, SCP-1918-EX was classified as an SCP. Further testing showed it to be potentially more lethal than the Black Plague, and was further classified as Euclid/Keter.

Addendum 02, Containment Breach: During the relocation of SCP-1918 from [REDACTED] to Biohazard Containment Facility ██, samples have been lost. Although only a minute amount is unaccounted for, due to its classification, the threat level has been raised. SCP-1918 has probably not spread. But if it has, we are looking at millions dead over the next few months. Actions have been taken, many more will be soon. This is not going to be a QK-end-of-world-class scenario. Remember, Secure, Contain, Protect. —O5-█

Addendum 03, Reclassification: Thanks to allied collaborations of many countries over more than half a century, the genetic code for SCP-1918 has been discovered by scientists. In addition, nearly fully-effective vaccines have been created and distributed worldwide to protect against SCP-1918. Due to the fame of SCP-1918 and the fact that modern science has explained it in depth without significant room for error, SCP-1918 is hereby reclassified as SCP-1918-EX. —O5-██

Glass -J SCP

Item #: SCP-198-J

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-198 is kept in a veiled glass display case, dimensions 6cm x 6cm x 14cm. Outside is a rectangular room with an additional six (6) meters of floorspace and one (1) meter of headroom. Access points are located at the south and east exits. Interaction with SCP-198-J, or removal of the veil encasing it, is only to be done under controlled testing conditions. Testing may be applied for through Dr. ██████. All interaction with SCP-198-J must be recorded and documented on Test Log 198-J.

Description: SCP-198-J is a glass cup, approximately seven (7) centimeters in height. It has a maximum volume of thirteen (13) fluid ounces, half of which are filled by a clear, water-like substance labeled SCP-198-J-2. Separation of SCP-198-J-2 from SCP-198-J has been done, but proven to eliminate the anomalous property of SCP-198-J, which is totally boring.

SCP-198-J appears to memetically effect all humans who view it. While this perception is not extremely strong or dangerous, it has proven to reveal highly personal facts about subjects.
Note: Don't look at SCP-198-J drunk. Ever. -Dr. ████████

Note: Looking at that cup didn't make you cheat on me, asshole. -Researcher █████

Note: Yes it did. -Dr. ████████

Test Log 198-J²

Subject: D-89123, a self-proclaimed optimist
Reaction: The glass is half full.

Subject: Agent ████████
Reaction: It's half empty.

Subject: Dr. █████, containment specialist for SCP-184, SCP-███, and SCP-███
Reaction: That glass is twice the size it should be.

Subject: D-19012, on his second day at the Foundation
Reaction: Guys, guys, the glass is bees! Get it?
Note: D-19012 has been terminated, with prejudice. -Dr. Bright

Subject: SCP-166
Reaction: I don't think that's gonna fit… again…

Subject: Dr. Gibson
Reaction: Is that juice? I fucking hate juice.

Subject: Dr. Glass
Reaction: Yes, but what did your mother say about SCP-198-J?

Subject: SCP-661
Reaction: Wait, I asked for a BLT!

Subject: SCP-507
Reaction: Holy shit, fucking get that away from me!
Note: SCP-507 retreated the corner of the containment area, crying and whimpering. It was heard repeating the phrase "so wet" for over eleven minutes.

Subject: Agent Dodridge
Reaction: All it needs is a rag and a screwtop! And kerosene. Anyone got some kerosene?
Note: Agent Dodridge is hereby prohibited from contact with SCP-198-J -Dr. ██████

Subject: Dr. Gears
Reaction: I see small structure of glass, flat-bottomed, conical with a slant of approximately seventy-five degrees. Due to this, appearance also lends itself to a conical shape widened at the top. Why?

Subject: Dr. King
Reaction: What is that, apple juice?

Utensils

Item #: SCP-1678

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1678 is contained in a steel safe, dimensions 20cm x 20cm x 15cm in Site 18. Access is given only with explicit permission from Site Director Richards for testing purposes. No form of food is allowed within 100 meters of the containment area. Armed guards are stationed near the vault in order to keep possibly affected individuals out of the main site area.

SCP-1678

Description: SCP-1678 is a set of iron utensils, all depicting human skeletons on the handle and approximately fourteen (14) cm long each. The set includes a fork, spoon, and knife, respectively classified as SCP-1678-1-A, SCP-1678-1-B, and SCP-1678-1-C. Anomalous properties manifest when any of the three are used by a human in an attempt to consume food. Upon this occurrence, subjects will find themselves physically unable to receive their intended source of nourishment. They are at this point classified as instances of SCP-1678-2.

When given normal sustenance using conventional or unconventional methods, instances of SCP-1678 remain unable to be nourished. Ingested substances do not affect subjects' tissues and therefore do not serve a useful purpose. The only way for instances of SCP-1678-2 to survive is to consume human flesh³. Despite not filling caloric or other necessary requirements for sustenance, SCP-1678-2 are able to survive solely on this source of nourishment.

Subjects react to this new diet in highly differing ways. However, despite moral/physical obstacles, most do end up attempting to eat. Instances of SCP-1678-2 that simply refuse to consume human flesh spontaneously disappear approximately four (4) days following primary contact with SCP-1678-1.

Discovery: SCP-1678 was discovered on display in an art exhibition in Prague, put together by members of the underground art group "Chuť pro Lidstvo." All discovered members were terminated after being confirmed as instances of SCP-1678-2. The Foundation was notified after two exhibition staff members began to engage in an overt act of cannibalism during showing hours. No other pieces at the exhibit revealed any anomalous properties⁴.

The plaque below SCP-1678 had the following text:

Statement: You are what you eat.
Question: What are you?

"Tapri" SCP

Item #: SCP-1392

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures:

Description: SCP-1392 is a Tapirus terrestris, with a body length of 2.1 meters, a tail length of 9 centimeters, and a weight of 209 kilograms. It is sentient and has an IQ of 114. The subject communicates using its mouth, which seems to be capable of emulating human speech very effectively. It has a tenor voice and speaks faster than average.

SCP-1392 has an obsession with spoken-word poetry and generally spends its free time writing it. So far, over ██,000 individual lines have been recorded from SCP-1392. All lyrics appear to be original Most lyrics appear to be original; however, the amount of which that are not is currently unknown.

SCP-1392 has a human psychology and is highly susceptible to interrogation, although the subject is normally averse to lying. However, it may be incorrect much of the time. SCP-1392 claims to be from South Central, Los Angeles, even though records indicate it has never left Colombia even before its acquisition in 199█.

Addendum 01: Interview 1392-B, dated █/█/199█

Interviewer: Dr. ██████
Interviewee:** SCP-1392

---

Begin Log
Dr. ██████: Good evening, 1392.
SCP-1392: Eyo what's up doc. And call me by my street name, Tapri.
Dr. ██████: Uh, so why don't you tell us where you're from.
SCP-1392: I rep the two one three, man⁵. Been reppin' that shit my whole life.
Dr. ██████: Our records indicate that you have never left Colombia.
SCP-1392: My records indicate that you're a hater. I'm the truth, asshole.
Dr. ██████: Uhuh. And are you aware that you are a tapir?
SCP-1392: Look, faggot, are you aware that you're a dick?
Dr. ██████: Please answer the question, 1392.
SCP-1392: Man, I'm tired of this shit. Can I get a drink? (SCP-1392 attempts to leave the testing area)
Dr. ██████: 1392, please return to your seat.
SCP-1392: Fuck the police!
End Log

Addendum 02: Excerpts from Document 1392-Gamma (Transcribed poetry of SCP-1392, between █/█ and ██/█ of 199█)

A BUNCH OF LINES
My mic check is life or death, breathing a sniper's breath,
I exhale the yellow smoke of Buddha through righteous steps
A BUNCH MORE LINES
It's time to separate the pros from the cons, the platinum from the bronze,
the butter soft shit from the leather on the Fonz
A BUNCH MORE LINES

Addendum 03: Interview 1392-F, dated █/█/199█

Interviewer: Dr. ██████
Interviewee:** SCP-1392

---

Begin Log

Dr. ██████: How are you today, 1392.
SCP-1392: Jesus, man, call me Tapri. It's cuz I'm the fuckin' truth in the streets.
Dr. ██████: So you consider yourself a rapper?
SCP-1392: Fuck yeah, I'm the best in the west. All my freestyles are the shit.
Dr. ██████: 1392, are you aware that you said a line written by rapper "Nas"?
SCP-1392: If he's a rapper he didn't write it, he spit it, graduate. And nah if the dude is biting rhymes then he can bite my dick.
Dr. ██████: Thank you.
End Log

Untitled SCP

Item #: SCP-1722

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1722 is to be kept in an air-conditioned aluminum storage container measuring 2m x 0.5m x 0.5m in Site 17. One guard is to be stationed outside the unit in order to report any abnormalities. Though SCP-1722 is humanoid, it does not require sustenance of any sort. Interaction with the subject is strictly prohibited under normal circumstances. Highly religious Christian personnel are prohibited from contact with SCP-1722 under all circumstances.

Description: SCP-1722 is a humanoid of undetermined age. It stands approximately 1.75m tall at its height and has no consistent weight. SCP-1722 appears to be of Middle-Eastern descent and has hazel eyes and dark brown hair.

SCP-1722 displays substantial regenerative properties. Though regeneration generally takes a substantial amount of time, if undeterred, the subject can heal itself completely. However, due to the speed at which this process occurs, SCP-1722 generally appears to suffer from ailments in the same way humans do. Though SCP-1722 can be killed by conventional means, it can still regenerate itself back to life. Only tissues directly attached to the largest part of SCP-1722 possess any regenerative properties at all, rendering duplication impossible.

+ Excerpts from Document 1722-B

For the entire list, see Document 1722-B.

Tissue		Average Regeneration Time
0.02 kg of skin		40 hours
1 tooth		9 days
1 L of blood		22 hours
0.02 kg of spinal fluid		17 days

SCP-1722 no longer possesses useful higher brain function. This is theorized to have been caused by spending an extended⁶ period in the location that the subject was discovered in. Though there is no persistent brain damage, SCP-1722 is far too mentally ill for any useful information to be ascertained. The subject has acute photophobia, and is unable to speak or perform complicated activities.

SCP-1722 was discovered in a small cave under the West Bank after an explosion during the Six Day War opened it up. The IDF unit there claimed to find a corpse in the opening, but then said it changed position significantly within the cave before evacuation could occur. The Foundation quickly apprehended the "corpse" and administered Class A amnesiacs to notified Israeli personnel.

Level 4 Clearance Required

Incident 1722-J-C
At approximately 23:30, 12/25/00, Dr. Andrews requested access to SCP-1722's containment cell [NOTE: As this was before (and the reason for) the updated Containment Protocols, Dr. Andrews' religious background was ignored]. The request was accepted, and at approximately 23:33, she opened the containment unit. SCP-1722 is believed to have been alive and moderately healthy at this time. Dr. Andrews closed the unit and exited the area at 24:02.

For the next three weeks, Dr. Andrews ordered 34 highly specific tests on SCP-1722. All proved fruitless and no new data was gathered. The following day (1/16/01), Dr. Andrews was found in her room having hung herself from the rafters using her clothing. A note was found in her breast pocket.

He must have been a great man.

Gray Ball SCP

Item #: SCP-1267

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1267 is to be located in a room 8m x 6m x 4m, in the center of Site 16. One guard is positioned outside the door. Entrance to the room is prohibited when not under testing circumstances.

Description: SCP-1267 is a gray spherical object inscribed with various phrases. Its composition is believed to be metallic, though further data is not ascertainable. Its diameter is 3.8m.

Contact with SCP-1267 made by a living human covers them in a film believed to be of the same composition as the object. This film has a tensile strength of ~7100 MPa and appears to be nearly weightless. Rules of engagement for subjects in this state can be found in Document 1267-Gamma.

The phrases inscribed on SCP-1267 are a virulent infohazard. Knowledge of the content causes subjects to attempt to spread the infohazard, driving them insane. Insanity is believed to be a side effect of the infohazard itself as it can onset in as little as four (4) hours.

There have been six (6) different attempts by Chaos Insurgency members to utilize SCP-1267. As of █/█/1█, none have succeeded.

Personnel with Level 4 Clearance or higher have already been exposed to the Howard-Chambers compound, an effective counteragent to the infohazard on SCP-1267. Other personnel are vulnerable. Show inscription?

If you are reading this, you are authorized to know the actual anomalous property of SCP-1267. It also means that you probably know that at least one time the Chaos Insurgency has tried to get an agent touching the ball, they've succeeded. Actually, it's been every time.

SCP-1267 does have an anomalous property. It just has nothing to do with turning people into super-soldiers or making them go crazy. Through research, we've found out that contact with SCP-1267 makes people substantially more susceptible to interrogation. So, we leak documents about the perfect device to lure CI moles in. And every time, we succeed.

If you're reading this, then do your part to keep SCP-1267 effective. Hype it up. Talk about how dangerous it could be in the wrong hands. Because the more wrong hands we can get on it, the better off we are.

-Dr. ██████

Halloween

The feeling of blinking and opening his eyes to an entirely new place was not new to number Five Zero Seven. Just a second ago, he had been standing in a dark cell, eating celebratory pumpkin pie. It was Halloween, and while Foundation workers longed for the feeling of terror, 507 abhorred it. It was too familiar.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had been dreading a Halloween trip, still trying to forget the one from last year. But he was not in a ghost town, or a dank graveyard. He was in the middle of what appeared to be an English mansion, with a large coat of arms and an even larger picture of Queen Victoria as the centerpieces of the room on the back wall. He felt a peculiar sense of deja vu, and 507 suddenly felt a lump in his throat. It was too familiar.

"You're back." 507 whipped his head around in terror, seeing exactly what he hoped he wouldn't. An older man, Caucasian, with deep blue eyes. But 507 knew he wasn't any of that. The man spoke up again. "Did you enjoy your, uh, trials?"

"I wouldn't call them trials. More of me thrashing around universes and other planes like a damn rag doll."

343 frowned. "Rag doll seems a bit harsh. It's not like I wanted anything that way."

507 sighed audibly. "How could you do this, huh? To me?"

"Not just you. Did you notice where is everyone else now?" 343 asked rhetorically, smiling. "Trapped. By their power, like you, or unconscious, or stuck within their own mind or body. Or maybe in the doorway."

"But you haven't. I've been just about everywhere, all thanks to you. I know for the most part who the players are and where they stand. And neither of us stand nearly as high as we'd like to think."

"Oh, come on. It can't have been that bad. Maybe it was just their way of saying hello?"

507 grimaced. He had been right about Halloween being terrifying.

"Well, you've entered my home without permission and insulted me. Anything you want to do here before you inevitably hop back to your cell?" 343 stood, staring blankly at 507.

There was a long, awkward silence. Finally, the younger of the two spoke up.

"Yeah, okay. Trick or treat?" he asked.

The older man laughed. "Here's some chocolate." A bar of Hershey's appeared in his hand, which was promptly thrust forward. 507 accepted, and walked to the wall to sit down. "I'm being nice and cordial, don't you think? Not like I used to be. We're not enemies, you can be afforded a little respect."

"Enemies? Do you know what I've gone through? You don't know half the shit I've seen and learned. And brought with me." He pulled out a small chunk of blue metal. "Remember, asshole, all he needs is one hand to strangle you with."

The older man moved closer to 507, eying the object. "Hand?" he asked.

"Not as broken as you think."

A blink later, he was gone. In a split second, the old man's face changed from mild curiosity to anger and confusion. This was not familiar.

---

"Do you think he knows?"

"About what?"

"The metal."

"Doubt it."

---

Researcher Goldsheiner had far too much paperwork to relax. The stack of files on his desk seemed to be taunting him, to the point that he could not focus on it without feeling angry. He had planned to go on vacation with his family in the near future, contingent on him having time to plan. But work was getting in the way, and he was getting more stressed by the minute. He kept zoning in and out, all the while semi-focused on the stack of paper neatly on his desk. It was too big to do anything about.

Pushing unproductive thoughts aside, he unenthusiastically reached for the file on the top. All he had to do was read the request and either accept it or deny it, meaning that he could skim through and avoid doing any actual work. He opened the manilla envelope and read the memo inside. Sitting back in his chair, he glanced over to the potted plant in the corner of his office. Wasn't maintenance supposed to do something about that thing? He was certainly not strong enough to move the thing himself. He looked it at, admiring how the leaves could look artificial even while being wholly natural. With a jolt, he moved his attention to the request, deciding to get it out of the way. After all, it wasn't like someone like him could do anything about the plant. It was too big to do anything about.

This came to me in a dream. I had meditated for an hour or so before I went to bed, hoping to astrally project myself. It was around 10:40 when I went fell asleep. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in Central Park, throwing pieces of panini to the pigeons squabbling on the ground. I remember feeling a slight pity for them, having to take what I give and getting only the scraps of my sandwich. I turned to my side, and there was a man sitting there. I don't remember much, except that he had a trench coat and fedora on. He asked me if I liked what I was eating.

I replied affirmatively, and he laughed. I don't quite remember what he said, but I think it was something about irony.

Goldsheiner yawned. He skipped to the second-to-last paragraph.

But it couldn't really be just that, could it? An inanimate object? Or an entity, trying to free itself from an inanimate object, to be contained in an inanimate object? Or maybe just an entity, briefly stuck inside a small universe before bursting into ours. I can't be sure about what the man said; after all, it was in a dream, and we know very little about SCP-882.

A colleague of mine, who would prefer to remain nameless, told me that my experience was similar to an existing SCP entity, numbered 990. For this reason, I am officially submitting a transcript of my dream to Site Director Kondraki. I leave it up to the higher-ups to decide how to act, if any action is deemed necessary to undertake.

-Researcher Greens, Personnel Code #CN8978, Site 19

Too sleepy to fully understand what he had just read, Goldsheiner reached for his stamp and lethargically smacked the page with it. He grabbed a handful from the bag of candy corn the staff had put in all the offices and began to munch. There was no reason not to accept this request, after all, he rationalized. 990 was a Keter, if he remembered correctly. And better for it to be on the site director's plate than on his. Assuming the memo was accurate, the implications were out of his league anyway. It was too big to do anything about.

---

507 was sitting in his containment unit, clutching a small piece of metal. He had been sitting there for sixty four seconds, which he knew because they were possibly the longest sixty four seconds of his life. A doctor in a white lab coat entered with a clipboard. scribbling notes down.

"Five Oh Seven, you've been gone for almost nine hours. We can schedule an interview later to document your latest shift. Is there anything you'd like?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks. How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"In Site 19, I mean."

"Since the sun on the Horizon touched down." the doctor replied.

507 let out a much-needed sigh of relief. "Take this." he said, tossing the piece of metal to the doctor.

"Are we clear?"

"Not entirely. I couldn't help it. He saw it. Even a martyr wants to taste the sweetness in the fruit of revenge."

"I bet Adam thought that too." The two stood in silence, and the doctor turned to leave the unit. On his way out, the doctor turned back to the man sitting on the cot. "Does he know?"

"About what?"

"The metal."

"Doubt it."

The doctor left the room, with the chunk of metal in his pocket. Soon, it would be mailed to a friend in a distant Foundation facility. Then, it was out of his hands, and he would just have to wait for his reward. He walked through the halls of Site 19, admiring the tranquility. Even on Halloween night, when the kids were looking for sweets and the adults were partying, the Site 19 seemed like machine. Finely-oiled parts were working nonstop, accomplishing what would be an insurmountable task by separate parts, no matter how powerful.

---

"There's not much to say."

"Where is it?"

"I don't have it."

"Bullshit."

---

How many had he done. Twelve? Thirteen? Out of how many? Goldsheiner didn't want to think about it. He was lucky he was being this productive in fact. Many days, he'd read through that many requests in total. It was only half past 2:00, but the stack of work on his desk didn't seem any shorter. He groaned, imagining the work ahead of him, hoping that he had an assistant. Or four. The pang of reality hurt him when it hit him, looking at the pile. Even with a lot of people, they wouldn't be able to do much.

Note: Due to the attached interview, I'm formally requesting for SCP-882 to be sealed away and no longer be studied.

Dr. Dunner: State your name for the record, please.

D-43267: Franklin King Jackson.

Dr. Dunner: And do you know why you're here?

D-43267: I believe in the truth of the Broken God, whom you imprison.

Dr. Dunner: Is that it?

D-43267: You imprison more than just His heart: His mind, His flesh, more.

Dr. Dunner: Flesh? Could you describe it?

D-43267: Don't play dumb with me. We know.

Goldsheiner yawned, flipping through the next two pages of the interview until he landed just before the end. He glanced out the open door in his office to see a witch and a ghost discussing containment procedures. With much effort, he got up to close the door. Halloween was boring, not scary. Nothing chilling ever happened on October 31st, perhaps excepting the weather. Goldsheiner sat back down and reopened the file.

D-43267: The rest is just to expand its influence.

Dr. Dunner: So this metal that you describe is anomalous in and of itself, and potentially more powerful than SCP-882?

D-43267: However you label the Broken God, it will not matter, for He will soon be whole. And He will rise up and crush the heathens, and reward the faithful. They will be ground up and destroyed by His might, and their bodies will be strewn all through the Earth.

Dr. Dunner: I think we're done here.

Goldsheiner, having read very little and having cared even less, promptly denied the request. In his mind, he thought, there was nothing in that interview that could warrant ending the study of an SCP object. The Church was far too non-cohesive to pose a real threat. Even with a lot of people, they wouldn't be able to do much.

---

The feeling of blinking and opening his eyes to an entirely new place was not new to 507. The feeling of blinking and opening his eyes to his worst enemy standing above him, however, was.

"What was that piece of metal you had?"

"Hm?"

343 grabbed 507 by the throat, and the unit they were in began to warp violently. He was no longer in a metal room, but a red cone that was centered on the old man clutching his neck. 507 tried to fight it, but his power was constrained. All he could do was throw himself into a new universe, but 343 kept dragging him back. The room was beginning to mesh from everywhere he tried to jump to, and it was soon no longer recognizable.

"Where is it."

He felt himself smash into the wall behind him. The room had grown considerably, and was now easily over a hundred feet long and half that in width.

"Where's what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

There was rubble all around him, Greek and Roman pillars being smashed as his body soared through them. He was blacking out in pain, but his eyes were being forced open by unseen hands. He couldn't cry, and watched his body go limp and reanimate and go limp again.

"WHAT IS IT?!" roared the old man, now five times his normal size in the massive conglomeration of jungle, ancient civilization, and Escher-esque mansion that 507's containment unit had become. 507 stayed silent.

343 drew a deep breath, and stood over 507's crushed body. "If you don't tell me, I won't bother punishing you. I'll just kill you."

"There's not much to say." he managed to say.

343 smiled. He picked up 507's body. "Where is it?"

"I don't have it."

"Bullshit."

"I don't."

343 threw him down. In his last seconds, he saw himself spread around the room. He heard 343 scream in anger, just before his vision went black.

"At least I didn't have to die in some far-gone universe or a cold cell. I got to die everywhere." his shattered mind thought, right before his shattered body gave in.

343 was panting hard. It wasn't as much the horrible act he'd just done, though he was still sorting through what had just happened in his head. He frantically ran through Site 19, looking for clues about whatever the metal chunk that 507 had given his life for was. The old man wasn't able to keep his mind focused though, because he was terrified.

---

"Is he really dead?"

"That's what they told me. Didn't really say much."

"That's a pretty huge deal."

"You'd be surprised."

---

Researcher Goldsheiner was extremely tired. After mountains of paperwork, all he could hope to do was sleep in his own bed for once rather than the leather chair in his office. He dragged himself up, and walked through the middle of a party in the break room. Orange and black streamers were covering the ceiling, with costumed staff members drinking and enjoying themselves.

"It's 11:32! Jesus, I remember when I was young." he muttered. He waded his way through candy and decorations, spiderwebs and six foot witch statues. The noise and light were hurting his ears. With a groan, he remembered that his kids would be out for the whole night.

Halloween had never been too exciting for Goldsheiner. It was so artificial that it made him sick. Faux scares and consumerism pretty much summed the whole holiday up in his mind. It was the same thing, year after year. Nothing ever changed. It was always a copy of the previous year, and the year before that, and the year before that. He grabbed his jacket and exited the main building. Goldsheiner grumbled, seeing his breath float up in the cold air, thinking about how much he loathed Halloween. It was too familiar, but it was too big to do anything about. Even with a lot of people, he wouldn't be able to do much.

---

A small blue chunk of metal was thrown into the forge, being consumed by the monstrous Heart of the Broken God. The martyred fool had been wrong about the size of the chunk. There was more than enough for 882 to change it into a hand; in fact, an entire man was created. Feeling his regained power rushing through his limbs, he bent the metal mass and slowly levitated out of it. The Heart was getting bigger all the while, and all non-believers guarding Him had already been slaughtered. There was more work to do, but first, he had a demon to smite.

Vlog

A frame from Broadcast 4

Item #: SCP-1617

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1617 are to be recorded and suppressed, preferably using DDos technology on ██.███.██.██ to prevent public knowledge of SCP-1617 to spread. Copies of videos are kept in the Video Storage rooms of sites 8, 17, 19, 24, 32, and 56, and recorded each week during scheduled momentary DDos lapses. SCP-1617-1 is contained in Site 24 in its original wooden coffin, which is held in the Site 24 morgue. SCP-1617-1 is monitored constantly. Requests for testing on SCP-1617's coffin are to be relayed through Dr. Sanders and Site Director Bronstein if necessary.

Description: SCP-1617 is the collective name for broadcasts published by an unknown author on [REDACTED].com, a website whose hosting has been as of yet untraceable. There are currently ███ instances of SCP-1617 on record. All broadcasts feature █████ Everrett, hereafter SCP-1617-1, commenting on current events. SCP-1617 are released weekly, and were released on YouTube co-chronologically under the account ████████████ until Foundation assets froze the account. No new attempts to post SCP-1617 on the surface web have been confirmed.

On ██/██/██, █████ Everrett was killed when his house in ████████, MD, USA burned down. His body has since been identified and acquired by the Foundation. SCP-1617 has continued featuring him as the focus of the broadcasts, with varying levels of animation (See Document 1617-E, Recorded Instances of SCP-1617).

Excerpts from Document 1617-E

Number		Description
1		Subject is in a room identified as his room, making quick observations on United States President Bush's speech that night. No abnormalities observed. Run time is 3:48.
2		Subject is located in what has been identified as his kitchen, and spends part of the video pouring himself a bowl of cereal. The video consists of him complaining about his ex-girlfriend (identified as Tracy Winston). No abnormalities observed. Run time is 5:12.
11		Subject is in his room, commenting on his favorite online horror games. No abnormalities observed. Run time is 4:54.
29		Subject is walking through his neighborhood, discussing his hatred of multiple celebrities. A blurry dark figure can be seen in the deep background of many shots. No other abnormalities observed. Run time is 10:18.
87		Subject is in his room, explaining an elaborate conspiracy including mythical and fictional characters in a facetious tone. Run time is 6:16.

Note: Subject's death took place between broadcasts 87 and 88.

88		Entire video is of the SCP-1617's burnt corpse, sitting in storage in [REDACTED] pre-burial. Run time is 10:00.
89		Entire video is of the subject animating, commenting on his hatred of rapper "2 Chainz." No odd behavior was noted by hospital staff or surveillance footage. Run time is 2:59.

Note: SCP-1617 was contained between Broadcasts 93 and 94.

94		Entire video is of the subject's barely-lit burnt corpse. Approximately 6 lux seemed to be shining on SCP-1617-1 during the video, despite the lack of any light source. Run time is 10:00.
100		Subject is alive and unburned, congratulating himself and his viewership on his 100th episode in front on a yellow background. Run time is 8:19.
122		Subject is seated at a wooden desk in front of a blue backdrop, staring silently into the camera. Ambient noise consistent with Site 24 surveillance feed of the area around SCP-1617 is present for the entirety of the broadcast. Run time is 5:00.
179		SCP-1617's burnt corpse is seen attempting to speak in front of an unmodified greenscreen. Due to the disfiguration and destruction of the subject's body, only short and pained guttural sounds are audible. The topic of the episode is the upcoming Senatorial race in Wisconsin, USA. Run time is 11:17 (longest episode to date).

Etz

Item #: SCP-1456

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1456 samples are contained in storage lockers Section 4, Units 1-22 of Site 19, each locker size depending on individual samples. The lockers are roughly rectangular and made of steel, with 4-digit combination locks. Testing requests for SCP-1456 must go through Dr. McCarthy. D-Class personnel are to be administered a Class-A amnesiac directly following testing with SCP-1456.

Description: SCP-1456 are chunks of dark wood, varying in size between ~3cm x 4.5cm x 0.5cm and ~4cm x 2.5cm x 7cm. Currently, 22 instances are in containment. Chemical analysis has determined that each piece of wood comes from the same tree of an unknown Family within the Fagales Order.

SCP-1456's anomalous effects occur when a human subject performs a small ritual involving SCP-1456 prior to sleeping (see Document 1456-B. In such cases, subjects report an experience similar to astral projection, though different in many significant ways and far more vivid (see Experiment Log 1456-A). Such experiences have been isolated to REM sleep. Reports from subjects indicate that they possess the ability of flight, but are unable to physically contact anything.

Addendum 01, Excerpts from Experiment Log 1456-A:

Subject: D-42351
Ritual Performed: 1
Description: Subject claimed to explore a world nearly identical to our own, but in purple-scale (subject identified all colors ranging from #6600XX to #XX00CC as well as shades thereof). D-42351 reported that it was "nauseating, but trippy." No other changes were noted.

Subject: D-32484
Ritual Performed: 1
Description: Subject claimed to explore a futuristic cityscape, composed entirely of slick metallic conical buildings and yellow lights. The entire system was on a grid, though D-32484 claimed that the size of the buildings was highly inconsistent, varying at times between ~2m tall and ~450m tall. Subject reported seeing humanoid organisms operating within the "city," though more detail was indiscernible.

Subject: D-42156
Ritual Performed: 2
Description: Subject claimed to be inside a massive library, outfitted with wooden shelves and moving walkways. Though she could not touch or read any books, she reported seeing over 300 Gutenberg Bibles, as well as thousands of other rare or mythical books.

Subject: D-89238
Ritual Performed: 3
Description: Subject reported to be observing a nearly empty black world, though upon closer inspection he found autonomous skeletal structures performing normal human actions. D-89238 claimed that he believed to be viewing [the Foundation], but was only able to see bone matter and a metal later identified to be technetium.

Subject: D-32484
Ritual Performed: 3
Description: Subject reported to be "swimming in a lava lamp" and was unable to distinguish any colors except multiple shades of red, green, and yellow. D-32484 developed mild photophobia following this test.

Subject: D-24809
Ritual Performed: 4
Description: [DATA REDACTED]
Note: Personnel testing SCP-1456 must be administered amnesiacs after each individual test. -O5-3

Subject: D-31280
Ritual Performed: 7
Description: Subject claimed to be exploring a wide open plain, filled with blue grass. Massive brass statues of men dotted the landscape. No organisms were encountered.

Subject: D-97843
Ritual Performed: 16
Description: Subject claimed to be viewing our world in sharper detail than humanly possible, reporting the ability to focus on Dr. Green's arm hair with the same accuracy as all levels of the eye chart in an adjacent room. D-97843's reports of Dr. Rosotti corroborate with what Dr. Rosotti was doing while D-97843 was undergoing testing. The subject also claimed to view her testing chamber at approximately 1/6 normal time.

Subject: D-13801
Ritual Performed: 24
Description: Subject was unable to speak coherently following this test, and was diagnosed as insane shortly after. Dr. Armstrong, the resident psychiatrist, ruled that D-13801 had experienced a traumatic incident two years prior, though no record of such an incident exists.

Addendum 02, Recovery: Most instances of SCP-1456 were recovered from various cults in the Tri-State area, all of which dispersed following the extraction of the anomalous object. SCP-1456-4, -18, and -19 were recovered from temples in Tibet following reports of experiences similar to those caused by SCP-1456. 17/22 instances were recovered alongside an English-language paperback book entitled Onion of Life, tentatively identified SCP-1456-A. All copies were damaged, though most chapters remained intact. The preface to the book is transcribed in Document 1456-C.

Addendum 03, Document 1456-B, "Rituals": The following "rituals" were transcribed from Chapter 9 of SCP-1456-A. The severity and complexity of each ritual raises slightly with each additional usage of SCP-1456. Not completing the appropriate ritual does not trigger SCP-1456's anomalous properties.

#		Description
1		Hold the wood before going to sleep.
2		Dip the wood in water before going to sleep.
3		Dip the wood in your blood before going to sleep.
8		Light the wood on fire (Don't worry, it won't burn) a couple hours before sleeping.
14		Place a circle of berries surrounding the wood. Drip animal blood in a circle inside the berries but outside the wood. Drip your own blood in the center of the circle, on the wood. Do not sleep for the next three hours.
22		Place the wood in the severed hand of a virgin. Bury them both at least 8 inches underground and fill in the hole. Do not retrieve the wood until the next morning.
39		Stab a child with a hot piece of metal, and beat their skull with the wood until dead. Cremate the remains, using the blood of a goat to tend to and extinguish the flames. Recite the words "Though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death, I fear no wolves, for my shepherd's rod and staff comfort me" while the fire is dying down. Sleep directly at the conclusion of the ritual.

scp-wiki.net Orientation

Good morning disinfo! My name is Saltzman, and I specialize in lying to people.

A quick introduction for y'all. The Disinformation and Publicity arm of the Foundation's biggest project is a little wiki we run. After a major data leak in 2008, we set up a collaborative writing site to pretty much disguise what was out. We now control the site and actively monitor it. Rather than deleting offending material, we simply hide it in plain sight, which means that in the event of another SCP file being leaked, it will be regarded as something from our site rather than an actual real thing.

Simply put, your assignment is to sign up as members and contribute to the site. There are a couple things you need to know, though. Do not write from what you know. Some facts are there, but the entire point of the project is to shroud the truth in better-written, contradictory lies. Some of you may have encountered Doctor Clef. You will know that he is neither Satan nor a reality bender, but a high-ranking dude. We have a phrase we like to say here. It is "there is no canon." What this means is that anything, or some things, or nothing, can be right. This grants you the ability to write just about anything since nothing can be "wrong." According to the wiki, Site 16 could be as small as a one-skip research facility or on par with Site 19.

The site's focus used to be on horror, since the "scarier" skips were leaked first. We've pushed the tone in a different direction since then. At this point, you can get away with writing almost anything as long as it's written well. Feel free to ask for assistance through the wiki rather than at work, and be active members in the community. This is part of your job, so treat it that way. Ya'll are the reason we have damn high standards, so keep that bar up. And, um… yep. Have a nice day.

179 rewrite

Item #: SCP-179

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-179-A and -B are to be contained in bare cells, painted bright red (Alizarin crimson, #e32636). There must be at least one security checkpoint between the containment units and the rest of Site-██, with a distance of no less than thirty meters between the security door and the guard on watch responsible for opening the door. Instances of SCP-179-A and -B are to be fed one live squirrel (Sciurus niger) per day. In the event of a containment breach, SCP-179's containment wing is to be locked down for no less than 48 hours before recontainment teams enter. Except during controlled tests, all personnel entering SCP-179-A and -B's containment units must wear a double-layered, lightly armored antimemetic full body suit and be escorted by at minimum two armed guards. While under maintenance, the creatures are to be relocated to a temporary holding cell and may not be tested on during this time.

One dead instance of SCP-179 is to be available for testing in the Site 19 Charlie Laboratory. All cleared personnel are welcome to test SCP-179.

Description: SCP-179 is an organ present in, currently, 4 canines and 20 hominids. The hominids are referred to as SCP-179-A and the canines are referred to as SCP-179-B. SCP-179 is housed inside of the pelvis, the latter having been modified to fit it better. No instances of SCP-179-A or -B have genitals. How they mate is currently unknown. When hunting, a neural disruption field emanates from this organ. When fleeing, SCP-179 produces extra adrenaline that fuels its creature.

SCP-179-A are small humanoid entities, measuring ~0.96m in height and weighing around 20kg under normal circumstances. SCP-179-B are thin canines, measuring ~0.24m in height and weighing around 2.8kg under normal circumstances. Both types of creature are covered in a thin, tight layer of smooth pale skin, such that their joints are extremely bony and their tendons are clearly visible. SCP-179-A have no lower jaw, instead pulling their lower lip open with one hand in order to devour food. They also possess long, multi-jointed limbs with strong, prehensile hands and feet. SCP-179-B, however, have a canine jaw and eat normally.

SCP-179-A has five fingers on each hand, though the forefinger is half the size of the middle finger and has a ten centimeter claw protruding. SCP-179-B have downward-facing retractable claws but otherwise normal paws. Both types of specimen have long and thin abdomens, and rather than a ribcage are equipped with a crosshatched polymer structure from their sternum down to their pelvis. When consuming food, this compartment can stretch to nearly 25 liters in volume in SCP-179-A and around 15 liters in SCP-179-B.

SCP-179-A and -B are carnivorous and prefer to feed on large, intelligent prey, especially humans. However, they have both been known to survive on as little as one small rodent (such as a squirrel) every three to four days. To hunt, SCP-179-A and -B position themselves in a location that they believes suitable prey will stumble upon, and attempt to conceal themselves. They then curl up into the fetal position. At this point, SCP-179 begin to emit a neural disruption field with a range of approximately 30-35 meters. If this tactic does not work, SCP-179-A and -B will relocate themselves and try again. While in this state, SCP-179-A and -B are dormant and all nonessential organs shut down.

Subjects caught in this neural disruption field experience extreme lethargy and tend to collapse within a few seconds of exposure. Prolonged exposure leads to severe hemorrhaging, followed by brain death. At this point, SCP-179-A or -B reawakens and attempts to safely reach its prey. SCP-179-A will, with its claws, portion the victim into eatable pieces and swallow them whole. They then retreat to a safe place to finish eating. To aid with digestion, SCP-179-A sometimes vomits up small pieces of its prey, chews (aided by its claws), and reswallows. For particularly difficult meals, they will also mash its stomach against a rock or the ground. SCP-179-B tears into its prey where it falls, and use their claws to push against their prey for more leverage.

Addendum 179-P-01:
In order to test the mental effects of SCP-179, D-73420 was exposed to SCP-179-A. He was extracted shortly after collapsing. The following is the first interview conducted with the subject.

Dr. Nelson: Please explain what happened after you walked into the containment unit.
D-73420: Sure. Okay, so I walked in, and I saw the, eh, skip, huddled in the corner.
Dr. Nelson: Go on.
D-73420: Well I tried to turn around, but you guys were like "keep going" so I walked towards it. All of a sudden, I just feel super depressed.
Dr. Nelson: Depressed?
D-73420: Yeah, like the second I stepped forward past the orange line I felt fucking awful. Like the gravity of, uh, killing the people just hit me really hard. I mean, I'd gone to therapy lots to get over it or whatever, but suddenly everything just came back. And like, I realized that I had fucked up so badly, and that I was going to die because I had killed other people. I deserved it, that I should just lie down and let it happen instead of trying to avoid it.
Dr. Nelson: Continue.
D-73420: Yeah, I just got thinking, like rapid-fire. Like I'm so fucked up that the only thing I'm useful for in the whole world is being thrown at shit that not even the smartest motherfuckers understand. I just got this sinking feeling that you guys, the scientists and whatnot, don't understand me just as much, you know? As the skip, like I'm a murderer, and that makes me so alien to all of you guys. It's like, who are you even testing at that point? Like I'm as much of a fucking wreck as that terrifying… thing, that's huddled in the corner.
Dr. Nelson: Okay. What caused you to vomit?
D-73420: Well all this shit hit me at once, so I stumbled back behind the line and all those thoughts went away. Instantly. So I fell down and puked a little. But then you all told me to get back up and keep going.
Dr. Nelson: Fair enough. What happened then?
D-73420: It took a little longer to hit me the second time I went in, but since I think I went deeper the thoughts got, like, even more intense. All the worst, saddest shit I could think of just popped into my mind right then. My vision got a little blurry because it hurt so much.
Dr. Nelson: You don't seem too torn up about it now.
D-73420: I've dealt with a lot of depression in my life, doc. I acclimated to heroin pretty easily. I got through a bad DMT trip without killing myself. I'm pretty good at ignoring how much my life sucks, haha. And like, I felt like shit when I was past the line, but afterwards I felt normal.
Dr. Nelson: Did you feel anything other than extreme sadness before falling unconscious?
D-73420: Nah, not really.
Dr. Nelson: Okay. Thank you.
D-73420: Actually… there was a tiny bit of hope I felt, that… that uh…
Dr. Nelson: That what?
D-73420: …I don't know. It felt good though.
Dr. Nelson: Interesting. Anything else?
D-73420: No. Please don't make me do that again.
Dr. Nelson: I will file your request to my superiors.

Addendum 179-T-07:
Based on numerous tests, I have come up with a hypothesis as to the nature of SCP-179. Subtle mutations between instances of SCP-179-A have led me to believe that they evolved naturally and were not artificial creations. SCP-179, I believe however, did not. I believe that they were living organisms in their own right, that once introduced into the prehistoric ecosystem, formed a symbiotic relationship with a tribe of early humans. Since they did the job of hunting and mating more effectively than our structures, proto-SCP-179 were slowly folded into the humans and dogs until both stopped being discrete organisms. In light of this, I believe we need to shift our focus to understanding SCP-179 rather than SCP-179-A and -B so that we can discover where they came from and how they got here. -Dr. Broadus

Old Universe

So far underneath the ground, Benjamin Mariano couldn't hear a thing. His communication system was working fine, but no messages came through. It had been five days since he asked Site 19 to check in. Nothing. The last thing he had heard about the world outside his bunker was that Site 17's nuke had gone off eight days before.

He knew that the sky was red, bright like blood, at all times of day. He knew that only about ten percent of the skips in containment had been neutralized, and that the rest were roaming the land above him. He knew that he hasn't heard from any other O5s since they enacted their XK protocols. He knew that he had enough food and water to survive for at least two years, if he wanted to. He suspected that he would. Most importantly, he knew that he had failed.

He had been going over these thoughts – the only information that seemed to matter anymore – when he heard a knock on the bunker door. It was the first sound in weeks that he hadn't made, and it was terrifying. Benjamin froze in fear. His bunker was secret and deep under the ground; if someone could be outside the portal to his chamber, they must have either disabled all the security systems (very unlikely) or known the codes (even less likely). Flinching, he watched with horror as the door creaked and swung open. A tall, muscular woman stepped through.

"Hello, Overseer," the woman said. "Holding up alright?"

Benjamin's assumption was that this was a skip (one he had never heard of before, likely a reality bender) who was here to kill him. In that case, he had no option but to die. The world was ending and his bunker had been breached. His thoughts were no more than a long string of expletives. This was another worst case scenario in a month that had seen more than enough already.

The woman began to speak. "I understand your confusion. But everything is okay, Mister Mariano. I'm here to rescue you." Benjamin had not been called Mariano in decades. He felt uncomfortable hearing himself called that again. It was the name of a younger man. He was now in his late sixties, with a fat belly and a somewhat limp left leg. Normally he'd have corrected anyone who referred to him as anything other than O5-3, but he felt it wise to ignore the slight given the circumstances.

After a long breath, Benjamin composed himself. "Rescue me? How?" The woman opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "I assume you noticed the multiple K-class scenarios that are occurring at the moment. I don't know who you are, or how you got down here, but I'm certain there's nowhere to go. This was the safest place in the world until you opened that door."

She frowned. "I ought to introduce myself then. My name is Janet Amelia. Agent Amelia, if I'm being formal. Like I said, I'm here to rescue you, because this universe is going down the gutter and my superiors would prefer for you not to go with it. It's been a long time since someone of my rank was in this universe, so I forgive you for your confusion. But you're due for a promotion, and if you want to get it, I'm going to need you to come with me."

Benjamin began to understand. "You're… you're Level 6?" he asked with trepidation. He had always thought the protocols about Level 6 personnel were theoretical. The only person he'd heard of to have that rank was the Administrator, who had been dead for nearly a hundred years. He racked his brain for everything he remembered about them. He came up empty. "That's how you got down here?" Benjamin ventured.

"Yes and yes," Janet said. "And in case you were wondering, we're not staying in this universe. I'm fully aware of how fucked things are up there. I took the liberty of closing all your Gateways but one. We're heading to Ua-19472. Now, ideally."

Benjamin thought again. He did know that these portals existed, but they were to remain sealed at all times. Not even O5s were supposed to visit them. They were to remain untouched even if the world was ending. He sometimes found himself wondering if they really were what he was told they were. It was common practice to falsify reports about infohazards, after all. But Level Sixes were supposedly allowed to use the portals. He tried to remember where all three were. He certainly didn't remember which was which.

Janet interrupted his thoughts again. "If there's anything you want to take from your bunker here, grab it. Otherwise, we need to get going. The gateway will take a few hours to get to under these circumstances. I commandeered a helicopter for us. It's waiting outside for us."

Benjamin looked around. There was nothing he really cared about in the bunker; he'd always found sentimental objects childish. He was nervous about leaving the bunker, and was looking for an excuse not to. He quickly realized though that the very fact that this woman had entered the way she did implied her story was true. If it wasn't, and she truly was nefarious, there was no conceivable advantage to luring him outside. If she wanted him for anything she could get it here. He stepped past her very slowly and nervously exited the bunker. With relief, he noted that everything appeared to have been unlocked correctly. Benjamin took a deep breath and began climbing the ladder. Janet followed close behind.

The helicopter ride was shorter than expected. He noted that the sky was beautiful, though eerie, and was surprised at the lack of pterodactyls. They touched down in the middle of the Sonoran desert, near a tiny concrete structure that Benjamin knew must be much bigger under the sand. Janet hopped out and began fiddling with the door. It soon popped open. Benjamin followed her down the wide, dustless staircase. They were greeted by another door, this one a thick plate of steel, that Janet once again unlocked.

They stepped into a large amphitheater. Benjamin looked around with awe. There were a number of machines, not all of which he recognized. Towards the back wall there was a large metal ellipse about ten meters tall.

"That the Gateway?" he asked.

"Yes. But before we go through, you need to come here." Janet motioned to one of the machines. Benjamin walked over. The machine began to beep. After about a minute, a green light flashed. "Good, nothing anomalous in your body," she said. "If there were, you'd get ripped apart when you step through the gateway. It's kind of how we're able to get away with using these. Skips can't get through." She grinned widely. "It would've been very awkward if you couldn't go through after coming all this way. I'd probably have to kill you."

"That's… reassuring. You know, I thought you were a reality bender at first," he replied.

Janet smirked. "Reality benders can eat my dick." She walked over to a paper next to the ellipse, read it, and exclaimed, "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Benjamin asked. It dawned on him quite suddenly that this rescue deal might not work out. Now he was out of the bunker, which meant it was no longer safe to return to. His stomach sank. How stupid was he to leave a secure bunker with so many Keters on the loose? Granted, this woman was probably a Level 6, from the mythical higher tier of Foundation bureaucracy. Things might still work out. But even so, Benjamin felt uncomfortable sacrificing certain safety on the word of someone he'd never met. His heart was pumping so hard he thought it wanted to escape from his chest.

"Either this paper is wrong or my map is. This is a different universe than we need to go to. Judging by the number, it was connected relatively recently too." She pondered visibly for a moment. Benjamin tensed up. "It's our only option though. So let's go."

"You sure?" he asked. He had no choice but to trust her now.

Janet turned and smiled. "This job is all about improvisation. Better get used to it. You'll be doing it on your own soon."

Benjamin remained still. The realization that he was about to leave his universe, probably never to return, sank in. He was about to abandon the world he had devoted his life to protecting. He was going to get promoted above Overseer, to do a job he wasn't entirely sure existed. Most importantly though, he had already made his choice. Any deliberation was a waste of thought. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and left his world behind.

---

It felt like walking through a mirror. Benjamin walked out of the Gateway and saw, to his momentary confusion, that this universe looked exactly the same. Not one detail of the amphitheater was different. He realized that this must be how all gateways are constructed, inside a protocol-perfect chamber. The Foundation is nothing if not consistent. Perhaps outside the room, this brave new world would satisfy his science fiction fueled curiosity. What would an alternate universe hold? But inside, everything was the same. Except maybe the sheet Janet had looked at… Benjamin went over to the stand and began to read.

Designation: Ua-02848
Connections: Ua-00184, Ua-19472, Ud-29391
Foundation Presence: Bet-Alpha
SCPs:
Contained: SCP-085, SCP-154, SCP-157, SCP-220…

"Hey, we got places to be." Janet interrupted his reading. "Looking at your universe's wad? Get a good gander, we're gonna have to update it. The "Relevant Information" section is going to get a lot shorter, I'll tell you that."

"Wad?" Benjamin asked.

"Universal Overview Document. Yoo-oh-dee, or 'wad' if you say it fast," she responded. "You'll familiarize yourself with them eventually. They're very helpful. They'll go over it in your training once we get to Ua-00001."

Benjamin groaned. He had never liked formal training. He always learned better by practicing than by being told. But he was far out of his depth. He could tell that this job would involve a lot of training. It took over a year to fully make the jump to Overseer, and he had the feeling he was about to cross a bigger skill gap. The thought made him ponder how old Janet was. She didn't look older than 40 but he assumed she must be. He was made the youngest O5 on the Council at 57. Could she have been promoted from a lower position? He doubted it, although it could be possible.

"First thing's first though. We need to get to Homeworld." Janet walked to the door. After a moment, it swung open, much to her delight.

"And what is Homeworld?"

Janet turned around. "It's what we call Ua-00001. It's kind of like the Site 19 of the multiverse. Like I said, I'm taking you there so you can get trained. The sooner I do that, the sooner all this slang will make sense. A lot of things will make sense then, actually."

The two walked up the staircase (identical to the one they'd walked down) and opened the top door. To their surprise, they were greeted by a small group of men with guns. Both of them put their hands up. Benjamin looked nervously at Janet. He had never had a gun pointed at him; normally he was the one ordering people to point guns at others. Benjamin found this quite disturbing, and began to sweat.

"We come in peace. Y'all got an Administrator?" Janet asked loudly. "Maybe some O5s? At least a Site Director?" Her pose was relaxed, like she was an old friend of all their parents and was just stopping by to visit.

One of the men stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked.

"We're Foundation employees who outrank you, soldier. Administrator? Yes or no." she said coolly. The man stood still for a moment and finally nodded. "We'd like to speak with them. Let 'em know Amelia's here."

The man spoke into his radio. Benjamin looked around. This universe was certainly different. Tall trees stretched above their heads, creating a thick canopy. The ground was mostly dirt, with a small smattering of grass and dead leaves. He had no idea what time of day it was. The trees looked familiar, though he wasn't sure what kind they were. It could almost be some forest on his Earth. But the vegetation was not smoldering below a crimson sky, like those forests were.

After what seemed like forever, the man motioned for Janet and Benjamin to get into his car. "The Administrator will see you," he said. They obligingly hopped into the back seat.

"While we have time, do you have any questions for me? asked Janet.

The issue was not what to ask, but what to ask first. Benjamin's mind raced. Ever practical, he presented the most pressing query first. "Does this guy have clearance to hear our conversation?"

"Nope," she responded. "All these guys will get amnesticized simply by virtue of having talked to us. Doesn't really matter.".

Right. On to the next one. "How old are you?"

There was that smirk again. "Ninety four," she replied. "To answer your next question, advanced medicine. You'll get a touch up when we get to Homeworld. I saw you were having trouble on the ladder. Your leg will be fine once you're in the field."

This was reassuring. He was curious about the medicine she mentioned, but decided it wasn't too important. Next question. "Were you also an O5?" he asked.

"Aye. Got promoted about twenty two years ago."

"Twenty years?"

"That's right. But I don't look it, do I." She gave a wide grin.

Now for the big question. "What do you do? What is this new job I'm supposed to have?"

Janet looked at the driver and gave a wink. He did not notice because his eyes were on the road. She then turned to Benjamin, who was waiting patiently. This part was always fun to explain.

"It depends. In short, there are generally two assignments for Level Sixes. The first is exploration. The second is administration. But you'll be trained for both. They tend to go hand in hand, and you'll end up doing a little of both at some point. You'll probably do more administration, at least at first. Exploring new universes requires a different skill set, one that's not as similar to your previous job. In a few years, when you have more experience, you might start doing exploration too. Until then, you're basically going to be all the O5s rolled into one. See, when we establish a new branch of the Foundation, someone needs to oversee the operation. Someone with a lot of expertise, who can make the right decisions regardless of the circumstances."

Benjamin interrupted. "Establish a new branch? As in, in a new universe, like this one? You create a new Foundations?"

"Not a new Foundation. It's the same organization. Granted, there won't be much contact. We try to keep universes as isolated as possible in case something happens. But if there are resources you need critically, the larger apparatus can often get them to you. Most Foundation branches are self-sufficient though. Yours was, for instance. But they're all connected. What I do is establish these new branches."

He pondered this. How many Foundations were there? His universe designation had four digits. He'd seen ones on the UOD with five. Benjamin was struck with a feeling of awesome dread at the scale of it all. He had thought for years that he was at the helm of the ship. Now, it appeared he had only been driving one of the lifeboats​. He felt a sense of weightlessness, like he was being lifted above the clouds. The last time he had felt that way was when he got promoted to the Council. This time it felt far more intense.

"Anyways, you'll probably have more help at the beginning, when everything is just getting set up. Depending on the situation you start with, it may only take a few years. Or it could be decades. Eventually, things will be in a place where they can run on​ their own. You'll vacate your role as Administrator and assign its functions to an O5 Council. And then you find another universe that needs a Foundation. Rinse. Repeat."

The thought made him dizzy. The famed Administrator was just a Level 6 agent, then. Was the man still alive? Had he done the same thing in other universes? How far down the line was his world? How old was the Foundation really? Benjamin sat back in his seat. Janet watched him closely.

"Did anyone else from my universe make it out?"

"No. You're the only one who was worth saving who hadn't already died by the time I showed up."

What an uncomfortable answer.

For the next six hours, Benjamin picked Janet's brain while they sat cramped in the back of the van. Once he was satisfied, they drove in silence. He wanted to think. Soon, the reality of his situation set in. Everyone he knew was dead. He was now in a foreign universe, traveling to some faraway place to be trained to do a job thirteen times harder than the hardest job he could imagine. He felt smaller than he ever had. Janet was disturbingly​ non-chalant about abandoning his home universe. Did anything had done up until now matter at all? All the anomalies he'd tried to contain, freed. All the people he'd tried to save, gone. The "normalcy" he'd tried to preserve, shattered. And none of it seemed to matter. How many Apocalypses had humanity endured? How many had the Foundation caused?

Eventually the car stopped. Janet slid out the door. Benjamin followed behind. They walked out from the garage, through a short maze of corridors and into a large office. It reminded Benjamin of Site 19, only much smaller. The door closed behind them. An old-looking bald man sat at the desk. Janet saw him and smiled.

"Good afternoon, Amelia. What is your business here?" The man's expression did not change as he spoke.

"I'm bringing Mariano here to Homeworld for training. But the connections were mismarked, so we ended up here. You got a quick route back?"

"I do. Seven connections to Uc-01231. Was his universe quarantined?" Janet nodded. The man turned to face him directly. "My condolences." A second later, he continued. "Congratulations on your promotion," he said. Benjamin nodded back.

"It's good to see you, Cog," Janet said.

"I'll arrange your transport," the man replied. "Best of luck."

Soon a helicopter arrived, and whisked the two away towards another portal. Benjamin sat uncomfortably in the seat, fidgeting and thinking.

"What do you think of this place?" Janet asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "This universe is less developed than mine. But it's got people in it, still alive. And trees. I haven't seen trees in months."

Janet nodded. "If it makes you feel better, my universe got destroyed too. A few years ago one of the site directors let out all the skips in containment. There was nothing we could do but quarantine the place. Haven't been back since."

Benjamin frowned. "That's unfortunate. A researcher breached a containment cell in mine and unleashed a trapped reality bender. It must've been sabotage. I don't know who got to her, but I'm sure they regret it now. I don't think the world ended by accident."

Janet's face turned dark. "What was her name?" she asked.

"Harriet Wilson. In Site 11. Why?"

Janet didn't respond for a long second. "Good to know, that's all." She turned her head to look out the window.

That was not all, and Benjamin knew it. But judging by her reaction, it was not the time to press. He was no longer where the buck stopped, after all. He'd have to get used to not knowing everything again. Now he was on his way to learn. He looked out his window. The trees below were covered in bright reds and yellows. It must be autumn here. He had missed being in a place with trees. It had been too long. He admired the brilliant colors and gave a happy sigh. The gradients looked like a cloudless sky just when the sun begins to peek over the horizon. He thought back to his cold bunker, with its empty screens and cramped rooms. He thought back to his drab office in Area 4, with its single succulent decoration and otherwise plain gray walls. He'd always meant to spruce the place up but never found the time. This was better, he thought. How absurd of him to want to stay in a dead world. There was more beauty here than he ever knew.

Footnotes

1. See Document N9Q-C66-VN4-AHQ47O8. Scranton boxes are Foundation technology, reverse engineered from [DATA EXPUNGED] in order to provide a physical container safe from most reality bending.

2. IT'S JUST A START, OKAY?!

3. Cooked meat gives more nourishment to subjects.

4. It should be noted that SCP-1678 was the center of the showcase.

5. "213" refers to the area code for South Central, Los Angeles

6. Since the age of SCP-1722 cannot be determined, it is believed to have been trapped in the cave it was discovered in for decades, possibly even centuries.