This is the sandbox of user rujo_king, AKA Rougeaux, AKA Chris.

rating: 0+x


Site Security Chief Geoff Merton stood in the doorway of the Overseer Council chamber. The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated solely by a bank of eight television screens on the wall across from him. As he stepped inside, he detected the faint but unmistakeable odors of burnt gunpowder and blood, and drew his pistol.

Slowly, he walked toward the televisions. Each showed a different scene, and in the center of each frame was a dead body. As he moved closer, be began to make out facial details; they were all members of the council. Two had hanged themselves, three had apparently taken poison, and the remaining three had died of self-inflicted gunshot wounds.

Suddenly, a voice came out of the darkness surrounding him: "We fucked up, Geoff."

Merton turned to face the source of the voice. The figure stepped closer, and in the dim light of the televisions he recognized him as O-4. In his hands was an M-4 carbine. Laying on the floor behind him were three more bodies.

"We fucked up bad."

And with that, O-4 pointed the barrel of the gun upward, pressed it tightly against his chin, and pulled the trigger.


scp_autoscribe version 1.0.7
Job ID#: 000841414
Filename: bombtest_unedited.mp4
Created: 03:07:17, 17 November 2021
Duration: 31:19
Heuristic Analysis: File is a video depicting two human males describing a test procedure involving an anomalous weapons system. Males identified as Dr. Roger Weyden and Dr. Lauri Peltonnen. Filming location identified as Mojave Desert, 17.3km south of Site-91B.
Teleological Analysis: ERROR (Reason: No such technology exists)
Ontographic Analysis: ERROR (Reason: No such technology exists)
Zeta-Sigma Analysis: ERROR (Reason: Concept not compatible with reality)
Parahaptic Analysis: ERROR (Reason: No such technology exists)

Begin Transcript

Weyden: From out of frame. You're on, Pel.
Peltonnen: Okay, so I describe a bit the purpose of the testing and the object here that we test. Dr. Weyden and I design a device, an, um, bomb, really, that… Roger, I think maybe you speak?
Weyden: Stepping into frame. Why?
Peltonnen: Just the speaking with the English, is not so good?
Weyden: Got it. Turns toward camera. Okay, Dr. Peltonnen has some final preparation work to do before we set this baby off. So, anyway, the device on the tower back behind me is something we call the "consensus stabilization pulse generator." Yeah, and in editing I'll paste a photo of the thing right there so you can see what I'm talking about. [Autotrans interjection: No such edit was made.] I wouldn't call it a bomb per se, since it's intended to replace on-site nuclear failsafe systems rather than use on a battlefield or something. Basically, when the thing goes off, it generates an expanding sphere of reality-stabilized space, effectively nullifying any anomalous objects or conditions inside.
Peltonnen Out of frame. Right, I go to the tower and check the wires.
Weyden To Peltonnen. Yep, just be back here in 15 minutes. To camera. Okay, what I've told you sounds a lot like a standard reality anchor. But this puppy has a neat trick up its sleeve. In order to increase the power of the device, it exploits the Scranton-Hume manifold's ontological potential to [Autoscribe interjection: Explanation redacted due to length. For a full transcript, use command line arguments "-full", "-verbose" or "-debug".] Transcription resumes at 17:43, as Peltonnen steps into frame.
Weyden: To Peltonnen. Good to go?
Peltonnen: Okay, hundred percent good.
At 17:59, both Weyden and Peltonnen step out of frame. From 17:59 to 29:31 Weyden and Peltonnen remain out of frame and only voice is recorded for both.


The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was like a rotting tumor, tinged with ozone and sweat, an odor strong and vile enough she could taste it. Unpleasant though it was, she focused on the acrid scent, trying desperately to use it to pull herself back towards consciousness.

Slowly, though how slowly she couldn't say, a new sensation made itself known: Sound. Distant sounds, like a klaxon, frightened shouts, and gunfire. Nearer to her, a conversation, between four men, their voices distorted beyond the point of unintelligibility. And closer still, just inches from her left ear, a sizzling, crackling sound, the source, she surmised, of the stench.

As she pondered these sensations, she began to see. At first there were only vague shapes, like the bright circle directly over her, or the four shadows to her right that seemed to be moving nervously side to side. (Though she couldn't remember why, they reminded her of four scared lab rats.) The blurriness soon began to fade, and the shadows became men, two clothed, two nude, all wearing black helmets with mirrored visors. To her left, she saw a faint wisp of yellowish smoke, while above her head, a red light flashed in time with the klaxon.

She tilted her eyes downward, trying to catch a glimpse of her own body, to see exactly who she was. She saw blood. It nearly covered her nude body, in the form of obscure shapes that seemed both intensely alien and darkly familiar. That's when her final sense awakened: Pain.

She screamed.


"What the fuck do you mean? Just type in the code and patch me through to the station."
"Chief, I can't patch you through to someplace that isn't there. And whatever computers we have that still work can't find it."
"Okay, let me tell you where it is: E, point zero zero one. A, twenty three thousand seven—"
"Sir, I know, I memorized it too, and I'm telling you, it's not there."
"Then get me fucking Yellowstone."
"It's not there either."
"That site's supposed to be immune to this shit. So where the fuck did it go?"


Gardner looked out the window to the black stars filling the yellow sky. No matter how many times he visited this plane, that horribly wrong sky always made him a bit queasy. The mask permanently affixed to his face didn't help matters.

He glanced down, and noted with some surprise that he was actually holding the manifold strength detector, or at least some oneiric representation of it. Since his assignment to 2264 three years earlier, he'd witnessed maybe three instances in which someone was able to successfully bring an object with them. He'd been prepared to make observations without the scanner, but having it would make his job that much easier.

He stepped closer to the window, which looked out into some sort of courtyard. Around the perimeter of the courtyard, a Penrose staircase ascended, its top and bottom steps meeting directly across from him, like something from an M.C. Escher piece. Was it The Belvedere? Or Castrovalva?

Suddenly, the scanner began vibrating and making a noise that could only be called beeping in the loosest sense of the word. Looking down at it, Gardner realized that the scanner he was holding was markedly different than the one Dr. Cove had handed him earlier that day, covered in runes in some unknowable language and blinking lights in colors that had no right to exist. He tossed the thing aside, and looked back out the window, just in time to watch as the stars went out.

One by one, those cursed black pinpoints disappeared, replaced by the yellow void. Faintly, in the distance, Gardner heard a sound like an approaching hurricane, growing louder and louder until it was a deafening roar. The stars were all gone now, and the yellow sky began to take on a different hue, a deep, burning orange, as if looking at hot coals through an out-of-focus lens. Soon, fire was all around him, turning the realm of the Hanged King to ash.

Gardner opened his eyes. In the dim light, he saw Dr. Cove sitting across from him, leaning forward expectantly. "We… um…" Gardner paused, trying to think of the right words. "Doctor, I believe we made a miscalculation."


Thirty seconds later, she found herself surrounded by four dead bodies. A quick twist of the neck, an elbow to the hyoid, a single shot between the eyes with the previous one's pistol, a heel strike to the chin. She knew how to kill, but she couldn't remember why. She stripped the two clothed men, using the undershirt of the larger to wipe away most of the blood, then putting on the uniform of the smaller one. She left the blood-filled helmet behind.

The room itself was rather large, perhaps ten meters square, and the single light in the center barely reached the walls. In the middle of one of the walls was a doorway of some sort. Above it, a red light flashed