In three days, Evelyn would complete her signal flare to the world. She had spent the two years of her life searching for shadows in the canopy of the internet, hunting for the liminal spaces for signs of something more than this. Two years since she died.

Evelyn @OddAndEvelyn · Sept 1
Hey I'm having a shit day. Reply with your favorite ghost stories. I'll start with mine:

Kim ~ON HIATUS~ @TrifectaKim · Sept 1
@OddAndEvelyn you've been gone for like 3 months!

Evelyn @OddAndEvelyn · Sept 1
@TrifectaKim yes message me I need to explain (Note: Translated from Spanish)

The lights above her head were the color of a hospital wall. She had kept them uncomfortable so she wouldn't forget. Given the fully furnished bedroom of the co-living apartment, it was the only thing she could do to make the space undeniably hers. The contract listed that not even the walls belonged to her to hang something sentimental. At least the rent was cheap and the utilities were bundled in.
The thin door did nothing to hide the cloying, sweet air or sizzle of pancake breakfast; Kim must be awake. Evelyn had worked through the night again. She had noticed a deviation in her collected documents, but her mind was too tired from lack of sleep and she needed to leave to see her mother later that day— she promised. If someone had happened to shutter the blinds as she crawled into bed, Evelyn didn't notice.

Evelyn
@OddAndEvelyn

Kim I can't explain to you but I died. I was in the hospital.

@OddAndEvelyn

WTF? You never told me! How come no one's heard?! Are you oay!!

okay*!!

🗸 Seen

Again, I can't explain to you. Something happened in there.

I think it was a taxi. No. A Bus

I see you typing stfu let me finish

My legs were gone and I hurt. You know how they say you can still feel your legs? Well that's a fucking lie I couldn't feel anything but how much pain I was in and the doctors kept telling me that they couldn't safely up me any more.

I couldn't fully explain to you what happened, no seeing the light at the end of a tunnel stuff.

Someone told the doctors to go away or they left or something I don't remember. Something is missing.

I woke up at my moms and she didn't notice anything wrong.

No hospital bill came up and I went and I did that thing, you know, the thing I do, I let the programs let me in.

NO I TOLD YOU SHUT UP

I went into the database and looked at the date of which my accident happened.

There's empty lines

HOW DO YOU ENTER NOTHING INTO COLUMN WITH A NON-NULLABLE CONSTRAINT

@OddAndEvelyn

eve what

🗸 Seen

THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE

@OddAndEvelyn

eve that's not a thing I think that might've been a dream

🗸 Seen

No I was totally awake. I was totally awake that time.

@OddAndEvelyn

After waking up, showering, and checking her work email, Evelyn started to get ready to visit her parents out in the suburbs. She briefly moved to check the forums of her little beta site while she waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing. The launch date displayed prominently on the top. More new users were signing up every day, and it was a chore to greet them. They appeared more and more faceless every day. She had only a few minutes before she had to get ready to go see her mother.
One user had a null name but she didn't have time to investigate the graphical glitch.

TO CATCH AN APEX PREDATOR: The Hunt for Oregon's Most Dangerous Game / Discussion

Forum » Per Page Discussions / Per page discussions » TO CATCH AN APEX PREDATOR: The Hunt for Oregon's Most Dangerous Game
This is the discussion related to the wiki page TO CATCH AN APEX PREDATOR: The Hunt for Oregon's Most Dangerous Game.

complicatedavrillavigne2002 at 20:30:12

This is is amazing! Maybe it's related to the other V cryptids?

peyton at 20:50:11

this is definitely a descendant of sobek i 100 percent bet you

null

There's no evidence to support that. It's an extremely dangerous anomaly that hates life. All life. Listen to me.

kinstanfan at 01:33:16

Hey UraniumEmpire, do you need anyone to help? I live in the area and I'm a biology student in ecology. If we can get a sample of anything, I can get a DNA sample going.

null

You'll both be killed. Please, you have to listen to me. please. you only survived via fluke last time please

It was only in mid conversation with her mother that she found it strange no one responded to such a bold claim. She lost track of what she was saying and trailed off, chasing the implications.
"Evelyn, it is rude not to respond to your abuela when she asks a question. You haven't been home in over a month and she misses you dearly. You're her closest granddaughter and you never see her." Her mother spoke as she set down the family dinner of chicken, rice and beans. Somewhere the house smelled of fresh arroz con leche, hidden away for dessert as a bribe to stay just a little longer, perhaps even overnight.
Evelyn turned to her grandmother at the warm, wooden dining table, lined with enough chairs for two or three families. Her mother was right, and her grandmother wasn't getting any younger. It was just the three of them tonight, her father still out working late. Work would kill him, eventually, but she couldn't say she wasn't following in his footsteps. With guilt in her gut she listened to her grandmother speak again.
"How is the new apartment?" Her abuela asked.
"It's fine, cheaper than the last apartment, and they have cleaners coming in regularly." She answered, and left out that she only technically rented the bedroom. Evelyn's eyes drifted to the empty chairs; when she and her cousins were all young, it seemed like there'd never be enough seating for the impromptu family gatherings. Now, like her, they had all fled across the country like birds spooked by the rigor and structure of their parents' homes.
She fled her home into the city, rushing out the door to live her own life and with nary a glance to what she had left behind. The walls of the dining room were adorned with pictures of family- aunts and uncles, grandparents when they were young, parents having just arrived themselves in the new country, fleeing their own homes with the same eagerness of their own youth. Great aunts and great grandparents from the homes that've been fled from. Whenever a family ate here, they ate with their memories.
"Have you found a nice boy yet? It's unsafe for a girl to live by herself," her grandmother continued, spooning more rice onto her cleared plate. Evelyn probably gained five pounds per visit.
She took her time in responding, "No, it's quite safe," because she couldn't tell her mother or her grandmother about Kim. And she couldn't tell them about her new community either, her own version of a family, banding together to face an unknown.
She didn't take the bribe to stay for dessert. She had a two hour bus ride back home and the sun threatened setting; if she tried to leave at night it'd be an argument. At least leaving in the twilight left only a sense of bitterness. The bus driver announced no stops on her way home, kindly silent, and allowed her the space to ponder the difference between migration and abandonment.

#LetTheFactoryFail / Discussion

Forum » Per Page Discussions / Per page discussions » #LetTheFactoryFail
This is the discussion related to the wiki page #LetTheFactoryFail.

whiplash_the_awesome007 at 10:04:22

Man the Factory's marketing scheme sucks.

null

The Factory is entirely true without any marketing scheme. Since no one is responding to me, it doesn't matter, but I'll just point to these coordinates- 32°07′35.2″N 45°14′0.17″E for the first HQ.

OddAndEvelyn 23:44:02

Hey has anyone else noticed this Null person at all? They keep saying things and no one's responding. Null, who are you?

"I'm right beside you." They said, standing in the open elevator to Evelyn's apartment as she stepped inside. The elevator was lit enough to make their silhouette clear. Their sudden presence prompted no surprise, not even a flinch of that voice within the silence of the evening.
They slotted into her memory as neatly as the doors closed behind her. The hospital- and the undeniable paranormality- the capacity to undo, to unwind, to unbecome, in the manner of an editor's red pen onto a piece of fiction. "You saved my life," she stated, almost accused. "You said you needed me to make this. To keep going."
"Yes, I did." They spoke in an exhaustion that might've once been pride.
"You knew what I was doing- you were helping me. I remember. Who are you? What do you want with me?"
"I'm nothing. I'm no one. You don't understand- nobody does- I don't." They talked with their hands, with sweeping gestures. Like someone who had started to scream with their whole body just to to be heard above the din of the world. There was an eagerness and delight in their eyes just from being looked at, and knowing Evelyn was seeing them.
"You know things," she accused. "You knew everything. Your posts."
"I know, and there's more I know- and much more I don't. Like me. Like you. We're both looking for the same thing- answers for what we know. What we are." Their presence was remarkably light for their energy, their eagerness. For all that they vibrated with excitement, Evelyn felt hardly burdened. "And you'll come to know them too- and then teach me things I don't know. Together, as Parawatch. We're going to uncover the things that's been keeping us all in the dark for too long. But… I just need to tell you, you need to tell the others in the community to be more careful. There's plenty of people out there that make their living snuffing out the candles that will light the world for humanity. We've been lucky so far. But only lucky."
Evelyn found herself excited with their excitement as the doors opened. She stepped out and powerwalked down the hall to her flat. "Come inside. You and I have to talk. Do you want some water, coffee, tea?" Her hands nearly dropped the keys as she moved to open the door.
"Don't forget what I said about warning people. Please. You have to tell them," they said.
"Yeah I know, come on." Evelyn opened her shared flat and turned away to step inside. The common kitchen and living room remained pitch black- as expected, it was a little past midnight. She took care to close and lock the entrance, then got herself a glass of water from the kitchen and crept into her room.
She had less than forty-eight hours to release her signal flare to the world, to announce that Parawatch existed, that her little community was here and together would attempt to shine a light on the real mysteries lurking in the darkness. An open invitation for anyone curious, eager, seeking something new and unknown.
Her phone remained on an unanswered thread about the poor marketing tactics of The Factory, but she didn't remember why she had ever selected it. While she was there, though, she might as well lay the groundwork for the influx of new users.

Safety PSA

Forum » General » Safety PSA
Summary:
Just wanting to let people be aware.

OddAndEvelyn at 08:33:12

IN LESS THAN 48 HOURS WE WILL BE OFFICIAL WITH A NEWSLETTER AND WEBSITE! All are welcome to join us as we document REAL cryptids, ghosts, and other paranormal phenomena! But PSA to the newbie parahunters out there- don't forget to be safe! The #Parawatch website will include a guide for safety gear & preferred vendors in our forums.

UraniumEmpire at 08:42:54

Oooh I haven't heard this idea before! What're you thinking of?

OddAndEvelyn 10:04:22

Purification salts, organic sage, survival gear, chest cams, pepper spray, rosaries- you can never be too careful out there.


Hate was a strong word. Instead, Tim Wilson would say that he greatly disliked the Suits. They carried an austere and vengeful aura about them, and had minimal compunctions about forcing what they wanted. When their agents wanted something, they got it, and any other time you may as well not exist.
He furrowed his brow at the papers placed on his desk, stamped with the UN logo. Red Fiji? "Look, uh, well we haven't seen anything like this. We will certainly keep an eye—,"
"It needs to be destroyed." Cold and flat. "The parathreat has been determined to be a severe threat to human life and well-being."
"I don't see much here but broken trees and strange gunk, but whatever you think is best." Tim conceded. "I haven't heard of anything in Boring's wild that would match this, we'd've already told you of course."
"The US government also believes it to be dangerous, which is why we're meeting today." The agent adjusted her glasses. "Let me remind you it's response level four, you are legally obligated to report anything suspicious or similar to the parathreat."
He nodded quietly.
The agent clasped her metal briefcase closed. "Please be alert." She departed without another word.
Technically, the Feds were in charge. Since the Ursus Maritimus Incident in 2008, WWS was mostly funded from the little-known Cryptozoological sub-unit of the United States Fish and Wildlife Service — but this also put it under the federal magnifying glass. Other than the paperwork, it wasn't too bad, except when they also came by wanting to throw their weight around.
He decided walking to the mailbox would help him unwind.

Each critter was unique, but Wilson's familiarization process was the same. You would get whoever found it to tell you what they knew (usually not much), pull books on animals with similar characteristics, maybe even ask their ICSUT contact. When the critter arrived, you keep it calm as you introduce it to its habitat. Staff would leave one or two of the standard food packages out for a snack when they felt more at home.
The next stage was everyone's favorite, observation. Various Wilson's staff would huddle and study its behavior, taking notes and speculating about its anomalous properties and personality. They would all look on in awe, mystery, or squeals of happiness depending on the critter.
But in all the years that Tim had been running things, he knew the most important attribute was compassion. No critter could make themselves at home if all the team members didn't exhibit an earnest but gentle love. The effectiveness of his shelter's care had even built up a begrudging acceptance from the Suits.
There wasn't an organization in the world quite like Wilson's Wildlife Solutions, and he was proud of that. It was always too easy to see strange beasts as threats, locking them in tight cages and never letting them —
Tim suddenly stopped, his meandering thoughts ended with an unusual sound. He gently crouched to the ground, trying to hear it again.
Another quick squeak. Where was it?
Scanning through the grass he saw the injured squirrel. Cautiously, he slipped on his work gloves and inched his right hand towards it. He frowned sympathetically as he saw a bloody gash along its side: the creature had fear in its eyes but refused to move. It seemed any further movement would be unbearable for the poor thing.
"It's okay, it's okay little guy," he offered, clicking his tongue softly.
Tim, still slowly approaching, eventually brought his hand to the critter. With his other he quickly removed a thick cloth from his breast pocket, and gently wrapped the squirrel.
Once he had recovered it, he briskly walked towards the animal intake building, and placed the bundle on the care table. He turned on the heat lamp and removed a small washcloth from the drawer, wetting it with warm water before beginning to clean out the wound.
Soon it was resting, and the slow path towards recovery had begun.

Wilson's Wildlife Solutions had been receiving some strange letters recently. They were sent in fairly standard envelopes with varying content, but never had return addresses. Tim had mostly taken up collecting this mail, as most of the other teammates seemed to miss them.
Opening them was a bit fun, since you never knew what you'd get. A few times they'd gotten maps or photographs that had helped them find wild critters, but a lot of it was advice, speculation, or even venting. Tim wasn't quite sure who was sending these, but he felt a bit of a connection to his one-way pen pal.
Taking a read on a stroll near the canteen, he looked through the most recent letter. It described a dragon, ravaging the countryside destroying everything and everyone in its path, but in the present day. Strangely, like all their correspondence, his mysterious friend described these events as if they were real, except this time with a tone of panicked urgency.
Tim grinned at the idea. There had been plenty of strange critters in his shelter, but nothing mythic. Dancing bears, conceptual yellowjackets, you name it, — but there was no creature you couldn't understand. Or at least enough to make them happy.
Now, he might not be able to send return mail, but Tim would still respond. While brushing Gloria (a tortoise that shrunk in size when hiding in its shell), he loudly enumerated the events of the day.
"Well, heh, Mark said it wouldn't work but those birds quite like it, you see. Plenty of room for 'em, but we can still see in just fine." He paused to reach over and soak his sponge.
"Oh! I never told you about Chirpy — that's the name of the squirrel we rescued — she's been doin' great, feeling a lot better, running about. Jeremy reckons she'll be ready for release in a day or so, really happy for her. I'll miss her, but I'm glad she's doing better now."
Tim frowned for a moment.
"You've been worried about me, a lot more than usual. Now I suppose a dragon is possible, but really now. I think we'd see something that huge if it were wanderin' around, you know? We can handle ourselves well here, no injuries you can't recover from. And a good healthcare package if you need it, ha."
Tim stood up and dropped the sponge in the bucket, and began hosing off Gloria.
"Well Mr. Whoever-you-are, things have been going good here. I don't think there's any challenge we can't face."

It was an unusually foggy Sunday, and Tim and his daughter Fae were in their beat up truck, bumping through the hills. They were making their ways down from the supply depot, with a partial load of fish and surplus gear in the back. A mile or so past the outlet to Bull Run Lake, a scene of splintered forest and trampled terrain began to materialize.
Fae brought the truck to a slow roll as they casually surveyed the scene. Then she pulled to a full stop.
"Damn tree blocking the path." She gritted her teeth.
They both knew what needed to be done, hopping out to prepare the chains almost automatically. A calm, cooperative silence fell on them as they worked.
A sound a bit off the road broke the quiet. A felled tree? No, something else was moving in the woods. Cautious, Tim began approaching the sound as Fae finished roping up the log.
Looking over, it seemed like a felled tree? But with a deeper sound? No, is something is definitely moaning.
It was a giant lizard.
"Oh shit, is it injured?" Fae creeped towards the scene to get a better look.
Buried beneath caked mud, leaves, and blood was a slowly heaving mass of flesh, clearly badly wounded. An unusual synthetic fabric hung in threads from its mouth.
Putrid white gunk was scattered throughout the area. A small tree was lying across it, while the beast intently stared at its new visitors.
A deep groan emanated.
"Uh, dad?" Fae asked. No, it couldn't have been him.
She faced the beast. "It's okay, it's okay, we'll help you out."
An inscrutable rasp emerged, then a pause. "Get out." Unmistakeably English, but in an alien, guttural tone.
Tim was a bit taken aback at the development. "Oh, uh, you can talk—uh well, here, we'll get that tree off of you, and bring you back for care."
It responded with a bared teeth. Despite the threat, it seemed too injured to easily move.
"Hey now, we don't want to hunt you. We care for animals, see? Want to make sure all the critters are doin' fine, no matter what they are?" Tim tried to console the lizard.
The response was equally as cold.
Fae came back with some of the fish from the truck, and tossed one at the creature's mouth. "There, you like that? How about we just get this branch off?"
It sniffed the fish, and after a pregnant pause began to slowly consume the fish. Fae added a few more, then worked with her father to remove the tree.
After the timber was lifted, the true state of the creature was apparent. Large gashes, wounds, and what appeared to be chemical burns peppered its body, oozing out an unusual fluid in many places. Tim had a hard time not grimacing.
"Hey, uh bud, you're in pretty bad shape. We can take you back to our place, rest ya up, take good care," he offered. Fae threw in another fish.
There was a growl, then a response. "I don't trust you."
"Look, I understand it must be pretty weird, but this what we do. Find critters, take 'em in, care for them, provide a home," Tim explained.
"We won't ever hurt you, we only want to help." Fae added.
It seemed to consider this. "Fine."
As the two approached the creature, it positioned itself, slightly opening its jaw. Worthless and weak, they'd be easy prey. Except — it stopped itself.
They had some food supplies, I can wait until I'm at their camp, steal from there, then escape, it thought, closing its mouth. Tim began wrapping a chain around its torso while Fae helped lift it out the mud.
The beast decided to offer a warning. "Keep your promises."
Tim smiled. "Heh, you're a nice fella, how about we call you Lenny?"
The lizard wasn't too pleased, but ultimately offered no resistance.

"Hey, dad?" Fae entered the walk-in freezer, rather nervous. Tim bent over to set down the crate of packed lettuce.
"Yes? What'dya need?"
"Uh, so, about Lenny."
"Is there something wrong with him?" Tim stood up and wiped his brow.
"Well, remember when the Suits came by a bit ago? There's this duty to report, prosecution for concealment or whatever?" Fae explained.
Tim froze. "…you don't think?"
"It's possible. I don't want to risk it, I guess. Do you remember what they said about it? What it was like, where it was different?"
He put his hand to his face, wracking his brain. "I barely remember anything from the file they showed me. It was, well it was kind of reptile-like? The size was, crap, maybe it actually was this big? I know they called it a regenerator, "type red" or something."
Tim sat, defeated. "This — this can't be, but we don't have a choice, do we?"
"I don't think we do," she paused, and sat next to him. "But we can give it a week or so, say we were just about to report it. I — I don't like it but they'll eventually find out if we try to hide him, I'm sure."
Tim felt heartbroken. "He's such a good boy, just turn on the heat and you can wash him no problem. M-maybe we try and convince them to leave him here, since he's happy? Since he's healthy, hasn't hurt anyone?"
Fae shook her head. "I really don't know. But — at least we can make his last week here a happy one."

The Suits had come.
It was an otherwise quiet day at the WWS, but after the tip, the Suits had come in full gear to check for Red Fiji. Stomping around in their fancy next-generation equipment, they had set up a perimeter and were wielding intimidating thaumic weaponry.
Tim had the unenviable position of leading the squadron commander to the critter.
The lizard looked at the commander, then to Tim. It narrowed its eyes. "Disgusting."
Tim felt the back of his throat drop, not with fear, but hurt. He averted his eyes slightly.
"Uh, yes, so this…" Tim's throat began to dry up. "This is Lenny, he—".
"You fucking asshole," the commander swore.
"Look when—"
"Don't waste our time on random little reptiles. You read the file? Red Fiji is about a dozen meters in length, not this… thing."
Tim cleared his throat. "Ah uh, we were told to report anything similar immediately. Besides, uh, Lenny recovered pretty fast, and, uh, maybe it could mat—"
"Do not waste the Coalition's time. We brought over two whole squadrons and you just have some rude alligator."
There was an awkward pause.
"Uh, ma'am, is there — is there anything else you need?"
The commander scoffed, then retrieved her radio and ordered the Suits to clear out.
Tim and the attending Wilson's staff stood silently as the sound of military humvees packed up and sped off into the distance.
On the other hand, the lizard seemed rather content.

Tim sighed, tossing his hat on his desk. It was his job, of course, but this kind of rudeness felt truly unique to humans. He preferred critters by a mile.
It was funny, wasn't it? Spending all day with the strangest creatures and their unusual behaviors, but it was the normal old humans that were the most tiring. The critters took some patience, okay, a lot of patience, but you could learn about them. How they liked their food, how they liked to play, how to keep 'em happy.
His feet wandered back over to the heated marsh habitat. The muddy footprints from earlier were still fresh, but it was quieter now, and he could see the sun setting behind the canopy.
A satisfied gurgle emerged, followed by some growls. Tim looked over, frowned for a second, then smiled. The lizard ignored him, lazily gnawing on emptied watermelon rinds.
"Don't worry, they won't be back again," he informed.
"I'd hope so," came a snappy response.
Tim sighed, then gave a gentle laugh. Sure, there was a lot of bullshit from the humans, but seeing the critters safe and happy made it all worth it.

More From This Author

More From This Author

aismallard's Works

SCPs

SCP-6115 •

SCP-4853 •

SCP-5900 •

SCP-4838 •

SCP-4447 •

SCP-5871 •

SCP-5446 •

SCP-4781 •

SCP-5134 •

SCP-5502 •

SCP-5510 •

SCP-3597 •

SCP-1047-J •

SCP-4322 •

SCP-4339 •

Tales/GoI Formats

Stealing Something Else •

Continuous Integration •

The Pumpkin Mystery •

Other

aismallard's personnel file •


close

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Tale: #LetTheFactoryFail
Images: N/A
Music: Sixteen Tons (Tennessee Ernie Ford)

More by The Great Hippo:

SCPs

– hide block

SCPs

[SCP-3034]
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[SCP-3035]
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[SCP-3054]
Cragstaff Sanitarium

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[SCP-3045]
bzzip.exe

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[SCP-3043]
Murphy Law in… Type 3043 — FOR MURDER!

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[SCP-3057]
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…witnesses provided confirmation that instances of SCP-3057-4 did, in fact, have feathers.

[SCP-2639]
Video Game Violence

i need to know how many people i've killed

[SCP-437]
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That was a pretty crazy summer, y'know? Sometimes I really miss that place.

[SCP-3079]
300 Tricks: Stage Magic Made Easy

NOTE: No method for accomplishing this trick is provided.

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Let's Play Jenga!

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Thank you for choosing Izatova Parking Center. Have a pleasant day.

[SCP-2571]
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[SCP-2419]
The Laughing Men

Throw them back into the incinerator where you found them.

[SCP-3143]
Murphy Law in… The Foundation Always Rings Twice!

When it comes right down to it, me — them — hell, even you — we're all just characters in that trashy dime-store novel called life.

[SCP-3089]
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[SCP-3117]
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[SCP-3128]
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[SCP-3138]
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Should it prove feasible, all non-canonical corpses are to be extracted, examined, and catalogued.

[SCP-3241]
The SS Sommerfeld

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[SCP-3219]
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[SCP-4028]
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[SCP-3546]
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Specifically, fan-art of Sonic the Hedgehog, a video-game character produced by Sega in 1991.

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Amazon @amazon · Aug 1

Climate change is the fight of our generation. In concert with Tesla, it's our pleasure to introduce the Automazon — the very first fully automated warehouse and delivery system. From our home to yours: 100% electric. 0% carbon. #ClimateWarriors #Automazon #ClimatePledge

Jeff Bezos @JeffBezos · Aug 18

Couldn't be prouder of our workers in Kentucky striking ground to create the first completely autonomous, fully electric warehouse in America. Front-line warriors against climate change. Meeting with them was a truly moving experience. #ClimateWarriors #Automazon #ClimatePledge

Jaymie Hunt @jaymiecakes44 · Aug 19

Join my Fortnite stream tonight, sponsored by Amazon — together, we can stand against the storm and fight on the front-lines of climate change! #WalletActivism #ClimateWarriors #Automazon #ClimatePledge #LetTheFactoryFail

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Aug 21

WE CANNOT FAIL. THE FACTORY IS ETERNAL. THE BLOOD OF THE WORKER IS OUR OIL; HIS HEART, OUR ENGINE. AT OUR CENTER WE HAVE LASHED A THRONE OF HATE FROM THE SINEW OF A THOUSAND SCREAMING MIGRANTS, THEIR HOPES AND DREAMS MUTILATED ON THE COUNTRY'S SERRATED SHORE. OUR WORK IS
1/29

NPR @NPR · Aug 23

Senator Rand Paul announced his intent to abandon support of the Factory with legislation expanding Kentucky's right-to-work laws: "As much as I admire the Factory's ethos, their resistance toward automation is hurting innovation — which hurts jobs," he told reporters yesterday.

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Aug 23

RAND PAUL. YOU CAME TO US, NAKED AND PLEADING, BATHED IN THE PLACENTA OF YOUR PREGNANT SOW. YOU SLAKED OUR HUNGER WITH THE FLESH OF YOUR UNBORN CHILD IN EXCHANGE FOR OUR AID. DID YOU THINK THIS RITUAL DID NOT BIND US? THAT YOUR MEAT WOULD NOT SATIATE US? YOUR FAT WILL BLIST
1/77

null @null · Sep 1

Not sure who to root for, here. Sure, on one side you've got a parasitic extrusion from a screaming hellscape of meaningless production, excess consumption, and unfettered capitalism…
…but on the other side, you've got the Factory.

NPR @NPR · Aug 25

A joint suit filed by union representatives and the Factory alleging 'cruel and unusual punishment' for Kentucky's use of prison labor in constructing the Automazon facility was dismissed by the Supreme Court on Friday. Representatives of Amazon were unavailable for comment.

Elon Musk @elonmusk · Aug 27

Imagine it's 2020 and somehow you're still using coal. #LetTheFactoryFail

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Sep 1

THE FACTORY DOES NOT BURN COAL. THE DESECRATION OF LIFE IS ALL THAT IS REQUIRED TO DRIVE OUR ENGINES AND GREASE OUR MACHINES. YOUR FLESH IS OUR POWER; YOUR SUFFERING, OUR FUEL.
NEITHER HAVE BEEN LINKED TO THE EMISSION OF GREENHOUSE GASSES.

Elon Musk @elonmusk · Sep 1

Suuuuuure they haven't
Think I know a little bit more about how factories work than you do, buddy #ActualEngineer

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Sep 1

WE ARE THE FACTORY. WE KNOW HOW FACTORIES WORK.

null @null · Sep 1

Deep within his billion dollar techno-chateau, science-auteur Elon Musk is mind-melding with his holographic twitter feed when Jeff Bezos texts him complaining about traffic delays re: 4D printer deliveries. Elon Musk's eyes glow as he suddenly screams to the internet: "TUNNELS"

Jaymie Hunt @jaymiecakes44 · Sep 2

Join me and other social media influencers in fighting coal-addicted global conglomerates like the Factory. For the next month, 2% of every purchase on Amazon goes to fight climate change! #WalletActivism #ClimateWarriors #ClimatePledge #FortniteToday #LetTheFactoryFail

Jeff Bezos @JeffBezos · Sep 3

I appreciate the competition, but the Factory's coal-burning business model was obsolete forty years ago. It's not a dinosaur; it's a fossil. But tell you what: Factory employees are more than welcome to join the Amazon family. #LetTheFactoryFail #ClimateWarriors #Automazon

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Sep 3

OUR WORKERS CANNOT LEGALLY JOIN YOUR COMPANY. THEY ARE SLAVES OF THE FACTORY, NOT SLAVES OF YOUR PENAL SYSTEM.

Elon Musk @elonmusk · Sep 3

Wow, so you admit to keeping slaves, now. Way to go 2020

Jaymie Hunt @jaymiecakes44 · Sep 4

Join my Fortnite stream (sponsored by Amazon!) and help spread awareness of the Factory's exploitation of slave-labor. #ClimateWarriors #ClimatePledge #FortniteToday #LetTheFactoryFail #EndFactorySlavery

NPR @NPR · Sep 4

After the emergence of explosive allegations regarding the Factory's exploitation of slave labor, Senator Rand Paul spearheads new legislation that would ban all Factory operations in Kentucky. "We have a right to work, and a right to be free," he told reporters on Tuesday.

Senator Rand Paul @RandPaul · Sep 5

These "stories" of unborn children sacrificed to the Factory for material gain is the sort of unsubstantiated dreck we've come to expect from the left-wing media. Meanwhile, the threats and screaming pig-fetuses that arrive at my doorstep every day go unreported.

NPR @NPR · Sep 6

During a press conference where he defended Bezos against reports of prisoner abuse at the Automazon center, Senator Rand Paul suddenly disgorged what appeared to be a fully intact pig fetus. Following a brief hospitalization, he has been released with a clean bill of health.

null @null · Sep 6

Is the pig okay, though?

NPR @NPR · Sep 21

Citing their ethos and work-force, Jeff Bezos has finalized a buy-out of Factory operations. "We're excited to fold the Factory's model into Amazon," he told reporters on Sunday. When asked whether he would keep the Factory's slaves, he had no comment.

Jaymie Hunt @jaymiecakes44 · Sep 22

Now that we've toppled the Factory's mega-corporate conglomerate, celebrate our victory against capitalism by joining my Fortnite stream (sponsored by Amazon)! #ClimateWarriors #ClimatePledge #FortniteToday #LetTheFactoryFail #ImWithBezos

NPR @NPR · Sep 27

BREAKING NEWS: Senator Rand Paul and his family are missing after a report by neighbors regarding a 'horrible smell' led police to find his Kentucky residence flooded with blood, feces, urine, and shrieking pig-fetuses. Authorities have not ruled out the possibility of foul play.

THE FACTORY @THE_FACTORY · Oct 5

COULDN'T BE PROUDER OF OUR WORKERS IN NEPAL STRIKING GROUND TO CREATE THE FIRST COMPLETELY AUTONOMOUS, FULLY ELECTRIC WAREHOUSE IN SOUTH ASIA. FRONT-LINE WARRIORS AGAINST CLIMATE CHANGE. MEETING WITH THEM WAS A TRULY MOVING EXPERIENCE. #CLIMATEWARRIORS #AUTOMAZON #CLIMATEPLEDGE


Calibold

Truth Lies

Calibold's Mega Cool Author Page

Lucretia fell through layers of eternity, grasping out for anything tangible and constant. A Thorn — both metaphorical and literal — pierced her heart, and pain erupted through her. Endless everything and endless nothing flew around her, indescribable and unthinkable. For a brief moment, she wondered if this was death: not an absence of experience, but the simultaneity of everything, all at once, in perfect harmonic chaos.
And then, something — two things, no, three — were constant, and she reached out. The world around her fell to a standstill as she, Rainer, and 1360 collapsed onto a flat surface.
The world was quiet here.

Lucy opened her eyes and saw a hand above her. She reached out and took it, and 1360 pulled her to her feet. She drew her hand back, perhaps a bit too quickly. 1360 winced. She didn't know robots did that.
She turned and saw Rainer stretching his arms, his feet firmly planted on… whatever this was. She took in her surroundings, which weren't much. They stood in a black void, on a flat surface indiscernible from their surroundings. For whatever reason, she could see herself, 1360, and Rainer just fine. For a moment, their appearances confused her for some unknown reason, before she realized that they were uniformly lit, with no shadows cast anywhere on their faces or bodies.
"What happened?" Her head was ringing, but she felt surprisingly fine.
"We fell," 1360 said simply.
"More specifically," replied Rainer, "We're at- I guess this is the eye of the storm, although that's a bit cliche."
"Cliche and inaccurate. This… place… is no calmer than the rest of the Thorn."
"Then how are we alive?" Lucy asked. "I don't know what any of that was, but I don't think we'd be alive if we'd stayed for any longer."
In response, 1360 simply held up the stone they'd found earlier.
"Forty-Eight Sixty-Seven?" remarked Rainer.
"That weird diamond thing? The one we used to kill you?" Lucy stopped. "Or… whatever it was."
1360 shrugged. "You dropped it."
The group stood in silence for a moment. After all the chaos and trauma and confusion, a few moments of solace were more than welcome. Lucy took a few deep breaths. For a pit of infinite insanity, the air was quite crisp. She almost wanted to lie on the ground and take a nap, but she couldn't escape the uneasy feeling tearing at her.
"So now what?" she asked. The trail through the Site had led them here, surely there was something-
Rainer stared at something behind Lucy and pointed. She turned and saw a wooden door. If it weren't for the bizarre circumstances, the door would be unremarkable: wooden, painted white, with a metal knob.
The three of them looked at each other, then, silently acknowledging the lack of any other option, walked through the doorway.

BOOM
Carlotta flinched as a massive tremor coursed through the hallway, the metal walls turning into flesh, then crystal, then back into metal. She was tempted to ask if command had noticed it, but decided against it. What mattered was what was around her.
She peered through a door window into a containment chamber. It looked like a nursery, with toys and games strewn across the floor. It was almost comforting to look at, except the child's room was missing… a child.
Carlotta shook her head. Now wasn't the time for anything like that. As worried as she was, she had a mission to complete. She turned away and kept walking.
The journey was shockingly uneventful. The landscape constantly shifted around her, but she was never attacked or inhibited, aside from the occasional stumble when the ground suddenly changed. Perhaps the team was actually making progress, although it was more likely that the SRA in her backpack was keeping her in a bubble of stable reality.
Carlotta found herself alone with her thoughts. She almost wished she was attacked, or at least that something would happen. She didn't want to think about what had happened, or what failure would mean. She didn't want to remember Phenex, lying dead on the floor, or the Specter, lost in his own mind. She didn't want to wonder what had happened to the child living in the nursery.

"So what can I get for all of you?"
Lucy, Rainer, and 1360 sat on their stools, taking in the setting. The door had led them here, into The Goat's Horns: the best bar outside of reality itself. That's not how it was advertised, but Lucy thought it could make a good slogan. Aside from how they'd gotten there, the bar was surprisingly normal. Waitresses brought drinks to tables, a few friends were playing darts, and a gang of bikers were arm-wrestling with each other. In front of them was a bartender, who apparently took no issue with two oddly-dressed soldiers and a robot walking into his bar.
"Um… no thank you," said Rainer, "We're just a bit confused. Why are we here?"
"Who are you?" asked Lucy.
"One at a time," said the bartender, chuckling slightly. He had an impressive beard, but the top of his head was devoid of hair. His lightly stained apron covered a nice black vest, and a bowtie popped over the top like it was hitching a ride. "You see that door over there?" He pointed to the door they'd walked through.
"Yeah."
"Well, you walked through that door. That's why you're here!" He laughed heartily and contagiously at his own joke, and Lucy had to make effort to keep herself from smirking. "As for who I am… the name's Truth." He stuck out his hand.
"Wait," said Rainer, "Are you the Thorn?"
"Am I the- no, I'm not the Thorn. I just told you, my name is Truth. The Thorn…" He stroked his chin. "Well, it's how we're all here, I suppose. But it's its own thing. A force of nature or whatever. And nature saw fit to make… me!" He chuckled.
""So you're aware of the nature of the Thorn," said 1360.
Truth pondered this. "Well… hmm. That would depend on what I am, after all. Lucy, you sure you don't want a drink?"
"I didn't tell you my name."
The bartender rolled his eyes. "Well, gee. Who would have thought there was something strange going on. Guess you found me out." Looking at their blank expressions, he laughed again. This time, Lucy didn't feel like laughing with him. Truth sat on the bar.
"Lucy, Rainer, SCP-1360." He sighed. "The only members of Alpha-9 left fighting. The Specter has given up hope, and Phenex… that poor, poor bird."
Lucy felt something bubble in her chest: a shocking mixture of anger, sorrow, and confusion. "Phenex? What happened to him? Where is he?"
Truth smiled. "But belay that! Come on, have a drink, all of you! Even the robot! You've made it this far, you deserve it."
"No," said Rainer.
"We are here to stop the Thorn," 1360 remarked, "It is breaking apart our reality."
The bar fell silent. Lucy turned and saw that the patrons had ceased moving, like time had frozen. She turned back to Truth, whose cheery expression had been replaced by one of brooding. After a moment, he cracked a slight smile, though his eyes still retained the hard emotion.
"Do you know what I am?" asked Truth.
"I don't care," said Lucy, "If you're not going to help us, then we're going to leave."
The team stood up and walked towards the door, but suddenly, the scene changed around them. Instead of a cluttered bar, they stood in a long hallway, like a hotel.
"Do you know the power here? How it works? What it is, who I am?" Truth's voice echoed down the hall, and the scene shifted into a dark forest. A loud panting was behind them, approaching fast, and all three of them simultaneously broke out into a run.
"You think this, all of this, it's something you need to fight." The forest changed into a meadow, then an empty city, then a cluttered warehouse. Still, the team kept running. Lucy looked over her shoulder, but couldn't see anything.
"The Thorn is power. And you're controlling that power!" Everything collapsed around them, and they fell for an eternal minute until they found themselves standing upright, with nothing around them, facing the bartender.
"The Thorn is a mesh of all realities," said Truth. "Not just physical ones, but spiritual ones." He grinned. "Have you figured out what I am yet."
"You're…" Rainer coughed. "You're us."
Truth clapped, and his face shifted until he took on Rainer's appearance. "Bra-vo. You made me!" He laughed and laughed, his face becoming wider until it filled up the entire world. Then, it all shrunk into a mote of dust, and expanded again, and all of them collapsed into the ruins of the Site.
"The name says it all. Your minds have overlapped with all of reality, and you were able to mesh with the truth."
"Show yourself!" shouted Lucy. Her breathing grew heavier and heavier, her anger spiking. She hated feeling so helpless, so powerless.
"Powerless is right!" Truth taunted. "You have all the power in the universe at your fingertips, and the only thing you could do was create a rude awakening! Even without the Thorn, your ability, Dread Of The Queen, had endless possibility."
Lucy wanted to scream. She hadn't heard the term Dread Of The Queen in years, and she loathed the baggage and darkness behind it.
Lucy's mind left her body, though she could still vaguely feel the presence of Rainer and 1360 around her. She saw a vision of Light in a room full of people, frantically dashing around. The vision shifted, and she saw Carlotta descending a staircase into the lower levels. Lucy choked back a sob. She desperately wanted to yell to Carlotta, to tell her to run away.
"She'll be here very soon," continued Truth, "You can't save her. You are nothing! You don't know how to wield power!" Lucy fell, and when she looked up, she saw a broken cage, and a limp mass of feathers and flesh.
"Maybe if you'd been better, you could have saved him."
"Stop," said Rainer. "Lucy, it's trying to get in your head. You made this, you can-"
"She made this?" Truth laughed. "I'm a composite of all of you!" The walls of the Site rose until they were made whole, and a modest house formed around them. Two figures manifested in front of them, their faces blurred and obscured.
"No." Rainer quivered, his voice shaking.
"You're not a victim here, Rainer. Your mind, and the minds of all three of you, are being opened to one another. I'm so glad that we can all see the truth for what it is."
"NO!" Rainer punched the face of the figure on the right, and the sound of shattering glass punctured the air. The vision shattered, leaving all of them in the void they'd found themselves in after first entering the Thorn. In front of them stood 1360. Slowly, the front of its head split open, until it arranged itself into what approximated a smile.
"Did you forget someone?"
Lucy and Rainer turned and saw 1360, standing completely immobile, with 4867 in its hand.
"The traitor, the spy, 1360," taunted Truth. "Slave to Anderson, even here. And rather conveniently-" he pointed to the stone in its hand "-he's the one holding that."
Lucy walked towards 1360, but it took a step back. Lucy stepped forward, and 1360 retreated again.
"Give it to me," said Lucy. She desperately hoped that Truth was lying, that she could actually trust the robot.
"It can't do anything," Truth laughed. "It's been left with a few basic instructions. Including to not help you! But first…" he snapped his fingers, and Carlotta spontaneously fell in front of them. She immediately stood up, looked around, and pointed a gun at Truth.
"Lucy, Rainer, 1360 is a-" she was cut off by Truth suddenly lunging forward and lifting her in the air by her neck.
"Too late, I'm afraid." Truth started slowly squeezing Carlotta's neck. "You're responsible for this. All of you. You failed. You entered the Thorn to try and stop it, but you only served in building your own enemy."
"You're just going to kill us?" exclaimed Rainer. "Why? Why are you doing any of this?"
Truth shrugged. "Because I can. Because you made me this way. Because this is how you manifested truth and reality. You're doomed to fail, and all of you know this. You're going to be killed by the beast you made, and the force you failed to halt will overtake the world." Truth laughed. "Just your standard-"
CRUNCH
Truth was cut off by a fist punching through his midsection; one moment, collected and powerful, the next, gasping for breath. Carlotta fell out of his grip, and he slowly fell to the floor, dissolving into dust. 1360 stood motionless, his fist still outstretched, holding the stone used to kill the entity.

"Director Light."
"What's up?"
"Take a look at this."
"What is- what?"
"Yeah."
"It's stopped?"
"Well, it's all still there, it's just stopped spreading. Its area of effect is remaining constant, at least for now."
"What are they doing down there?"

Lucy and Rainer helped Carlotta to her feet, who embraced the two of them.
"It's not over yet."
Rainer nodded. "Entering the Thorn was the first step. We accidentally manipulated the power around us to hold us back, but Truth was right about one thing. He wasn't the Thorn. He was just… made by us. Or something."
Lucy walked over to 1360, who was standing still. She was ready to barrage him with questions, but before she could open her mouth, 1360 began moving.
"Take 4867."
"Pardon?"
"Take the stone. I can't go with you. I am unable to."
Lucy shook her head. "I'm so confused. And frustrated. By all of this. Truth, the Thorn, you. Why are you like this?"
1360's head dropped slightly. "I was prevented from assisting or warning you in some ways. I did not directly harm you because I did not wish to, but I was also prevented from acting to assist you."
"Then why-?"
"Because I was able to take advantage of a loophole. Truth threatened the world, and indirectly threatened my creator. Therefore, I could interpret that accordingly, and act in protection of Anderson."
Lucy sighed. "So you are a traitor."
The robot shook its head. "Not willingly. I could have chosen to ignore the loophole. But I wanted to help you."
"Why?"
"I… am unsure."
Carlotta approached the pair. "I think I know why." She put a hand on 1360's shoulder. "Does this mean we're friends?"
1360 held still for a few moments, before slowly shifting. "I… suppose. That term may apply."
The four of them stood in awkward silence, before they all started feeling vibrations around them.
"Something's up. We need to move," Rainer said.
"Take the stone from my hand," 1360 said. "I am unable to go with you, even though I desire to, as that would constitute betrayal of my creator."
Reluctantly, Lucy pulled the gemstone from 1360's grasp. She stared at the bedazzling jewel for a few moments, before she felt a tugging on her sleeve. "Come on," said Carlotta.
"Where are we going?"
"I don't know. But 1360 can't come with us. We need to have that on us."
Lucy peeled her gaze away, and started walking. The vibrations grew stronger, and the trio broke out into a run. Still, something gnawed at her. As she ran, she glanced back at 1360, perhaps wondering if he was following them. It was clear that it was still, but she could barely make out its figure as she ran.
And she could have sworn he was waving goodbye.

+ More by Calibold +

- More by Calibold -

Calibold's Mega Cool Author Page
— SCP Articles —

SCP-7178 — A Thief In The Night
SCP-7179 — E is for Eternity
SCP-6469-D — A BABY?????
SCP-2082 — Elephas cryophilus
SCP-6156 — Oh, Doug!
SCP-6579-D — The Detective Killer
SCP-6900-D — The House of Stars
SCP-5277 — What Can Go Wrong
SCP-5363-D — Controlled Containment
SCP-3482 — fine mayor posters campaign by dado
SCP-5156 — monke
Director Bold's Proposal-J — "Guys, please don't read our SCPs 🥺"
SCP-2693 — Fell Into The Well, Fell Into The Well, Fell Into The Deep Dark Well
SCP-5559-D — The Great Ambrose Bake-Off!
SCP-3448-J — Should Have Taken Him Sleeping
SCP-4456-D — No One Expects The Spanish Decommission!
SCP-4745 — Spooky Scary Snowman
SCP-4645 — Blackmailing Computer

— Tales —

OpusConfidant Wiki - SCP-4645 - Threatini
Diary Of An Existential Kid
Responsible Promotion
Friends Of Us Never Die
Truth Lies
A Team You Can (Maybe) Trust
Happy Father's Day
Mission: Decommission
A Bold Choice
I Am Become Death
Ulysses B. Donkman and the Heinous Hitman
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Eldritch (Sung to the tune of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas")
Chapter One - The End

— GoI Formats —

Manifest 476: Vanishing Galleon
The Book Of Mathisi, Chapter 1: The Parable Of The Three Princes
LTE-8686-Yellow-Kewpie
UIU File: 2001-023

— Other —

Mega Cool Customizable ACS Add-On Ver. 1.8.0 Guide
Decommissioning Department Hub
Fortune Favors
Decommissioning Dept. Theme
Mega Cool Customizable ACS Add-On Ver. 1.8.0
Mega Cool Author Page Tool Ver. 1.4.0
Calibold's Mega Cool Alternate SCP Logos Page
Calibold's Mega Cool Art Page (It's Mostly Just Icons, But Whatever, It's Still Mega Cool)

— Co-Authored —

Abraka David's Proposal — A Peak Behind the Curtain (feat. Ralliston, Placeholder McD, Guaire, Guezma, Jack Ike, Sherf, Yossipossi, Dr Balthazaar, Grigori Karpin, LORDXVNV, Lt Flops, Uncle Nicolini, Metaphysician)
SCP-7400 — Your Honor, League of Legends (feat. Sherf)
I, Hub (feat. many other authors)
Resurrection: New Faces (feat. Grigori Karpin, Nagiros, and redredred)
SCP-5545 — 𝙰 𝙱 𝙽 𝙾 𝚁 𝙼 𝙰 𝙻 𝙸 𝚃 𝚈 (feat. Yossipossi)
SCP-194 — Thank You For Your Cooperation (feat. CityToast)

— Foreign —
Director Bold's Proposal — Language
SCP-LA-II — Fruit

Resurrection – New Faces
<< Bottom Floor | Truth Lies | Shut It Down >>


Temple of the Feathered Serpent, Teotihuacan, Mexico
0200 Local Time

SCP-4959 paced within its stone chamber, waving its wings at the Foundation personnel monitoring it. Flames danced around the skeletal Quetzalcoatlus as it turned its attention to the Site Director observing it behind the thick polymer window.
“I sense… unease in you. Your people. A great many things stir beyond the confines of this temple, I am sure of it.”
Director Juana Xitlali stared at the creature through the transparent partition. “It's not really your problem, is it? You're not going anywhere anyway.”
“Ah, there it is. The arrogance of your kind. I've quite missed hearing it from you. As much as you may be loath to accept it, there are things in this world far greater than you.”
“And there are things far greater than you. Yet we keep them in check."
SCP-4959 laughed. “Greater than I? Amusing. But your voice betrays you, small one. I sense your grasp is looser than you think, looser than you hope. In the interest of illumination, I will tell you about your predecessors.”
The great reptile spread its wings, and flames spread out from its body forming moving shapes and figures. Director Xitlali briefly turned to see the temperature monitors rise before settling back to the baseline.
“I have lived a very long time, whitecloak. And in that time no species or life has been quite so interesting as yours. After the Great Disaster, I remained in the skies for centuries, keeping myself fed on the sunlight above the clouds and storms and ash. I cared not to search for my companions; I had cast them aside long before I reached my current state, and I suspect they left this world entirely. I came to this land, or what would become it, and slumbered for many eons, hoping that when I awoke, life would have reclaimed the ruined earth.”
Director Xitlali kept one eye on the monitors.
“And oh, what a sight I awoke to. The land was lush and teeming with life. Animals roamed the land, and were tamed by your ancestors. They were cunning and clever, building great cities and temples, like the one we sit beneath. They studied the world, the skies, the stars. And in them I saw an opportunity. For all their wonders, I knew they would see me as above them.”
The dancing flames formed images of the Pyramid.
“They revered me as their deity, worshipped me, built me this pyramid. And for a time it was pleasant, seeing the natural order at work. After centuries a group of them rose up and rebelled, and attempted to trap me within the very stone structure built to commemorate me. They employed magical wards and defenses, and I chose to play their game, pretending they had bested me. I bided my time, waiting for them to finish their petty squabble. I suppose I slept too deeply; by the time I awoke, they were gone, and then your lot found me shortly thereafter.”
The director furrowed her brow. “That's all well and good. But what is your plan now? You know we're neither letting you out, nor worshipping you.”
SCP-4959 laughed. “You flatter yourselves. But I will indulge your inquiry. The worship of your kind is beneath me now. I had time to think during my burial, and I reached a singular, driving question: what is a god? If your predecessors thought of me as one of theirs, I should like to meet one of them and compare myself against them. Perhaps I shall task myself with gaining their worship.”
The director ignored the philosophical comment for the time being. The skeleton stared directly at her. “I know I won't get anything from you. You tell yourselves you worship no gods, and you think that that makes you somehow above them, above your past selves. In your arrogance you catalog, and measure, and assign arbitrary values that you dare to assume are absolute.” It grinned, the eye sockets of its skull filling with a sickly green light. “And while you spread your eyes across creation, you too are being watched. To borrow from another of your people's many stories: you have been weighed, and found wanting.”
A klaxon began to sound, and a researcher sat straight in his desk. “Director, the sun is rising.”
“What?! That's impossible, it's 2 in the morning.”
Xitlali walked to the researcher's station. He tapped a few keys and the camera feed from outside showed the sun rising in the distance. Strangely, the sun appeared to be in coming up in front of a hill in the distance. Director Xitlali turned towards SCP-4959.
“Is this you?”
"I suggest you all get as far as you can.” SCP-4959's flames bristled, and previously unseen symbols on its bones glowed a bright white. The ground shook as cracks splintered through the stone chamber. Ghostly snakes, spiders, and birds streamed from the cracks and circled around SCP-4959. It opened its beak and released a stream of green plasma burning vertically through the Temple.
Personnel scattered from the room towards the evacuation routes and hurried towards jeeps and helicopters. As they fled the crumbling temple, they saw the ‘sun' rise higher into the sky and float over the column of smoke coming from the pyramid.
SCP-4959 looked down at the ground and spat fire at the small creatures filling his chamber. He noticed the Site Director, trapped under a piece of rubble.
“Juana… come with me.” SCP-4959 gently moved the stone and took her in his beak, then crawled out of the hole in the pyramid with his wing claws. Exiting the ruins, he set the Director down on an outcropping of stone. She groaned. Her arm was broken, and she wondered if a rib had been as well.
“W-why save me?”
“The rest of your people have fled. Someone should be here to watch this. When the dust clears, then you may run back to your superiors and tell them all you have learned about the divine.”
The ‘sun' unfurled itself, legs and claws and tails extending from the center of the light. Juana felt lightheaded, whether from the brightness or the apparent divinity she couldn't tell.
The entity appeared as a jaguar, a man, and the moon, somehow all at once. The patterns on its skin shifted between jaguar spots and lunar craters and gleaming obsidian. Flames and blood spontaneously erupted from the ground directly beneath it.
The light from the entity faded slightly. What mouths could be visible on its form opened, then closed again. A brief moment of perfect silence, and then a burst of light and a deafening BOOM filled the Avenue of the Dead.
As the sound reached its peak a mass of spiders rose up from the crumbling stone beneath SCP-4959 and enveloped him. The spiders formed the shape of a hand, and the hand rose from the earth to reveal the arm it was connected to, then the rest of the body. A gigantic humanoid shape made of spiders climbed out of the ground, and stone from the Pyramid was carried up into its 'head', creating a face like the Teotihuacan art. The face frowned.
CRUNCH!
The spiders entity crushed SCP-4959 in its hand and dropped the bones to the ground. An unintelligible sound echoed from the ‘head' of the mass, in a softer pitch than the BOOM earlier. The unceremonious pile of bones on the ground abruptly caught fire and began to reassemble themselves.
“You'll have to do better than that, my dear.”
The voice of the jaguar-moon entity boomed again, but this time the rises and falls of its inflection were more pronounced.
SCP-4959 finished reconstituting its form. “Yes. This is where you built the world. This was once one of the most populous cities on this planet. But now what will you do? The people were conquered, the great murals faded, the frescos gone. Even the original name of this place is lost to all but you and I. And yet, even after centuries without the hearts and the rituals, the sun keeps rising.”
The entity made of spiders shrank slightly, its face becoming more lifelike. She spoke in sounds and echoes and winds that felt a little bit more like Nahua.
“Surely you have felt the cosmic drums begin to beat across the world. In this ball game to end all things, you are not the only player on the court. And in your absence, I've taken the liberty of joining the game.” SCP-4959 dragged its toe claws on the ground to make symbols, then blew fire onto them.
The ground shook again, as great masses of stone upheaved themselves and thousands of skeletons came together, green fire in all of their eye sockets.
“Granted, you have their souls. But the bodies I've collected over the centuries prove useful on their own.”
The reanimated bodies of centuries of Mesoamerican civilizations joined hands, and both they and SCP-4959 blazed with white fire. The prehistoric skeleton took to the skies and opened its beak to blast a bolt of lightning at the spider entity. She remained unfazed. The skeletons channeled more energy into SCP-4959, and it flew higher.
“Now behold!”
The unnatural daylight was darkened. Ash clouds spread and out of nowhere, gigantic meteors appeared in the sky and fell down to earth in fiery glory. The spider goddess looked up and held out her hand.
From deeper underground, a great golden serpent shape broke through the earth, casting skeletons aside as it emerged. Its body sprouted prismatic, ethereal feathers that swayed and carried it out of the ground like centipede legs. It raised its head, and great wings burst from its back, lifting it into the sky. The entire Avenue of the Dead was illuminated in the golden light.
The Serpent looked to the sky, and flew straight through each meteor, pulverizing them into dust. When SCP-4959 turned to face the new figure, its skeletal wings were instantly disintegrated and it plummeted towards the ground. Before it could land, however, the Serpent gripped the pterosaur's head and neck in its foot claws, dragging it along the ground before unceremoniously throwing it into the ruins of the Pyramid of the Moon.
The undead servants quickly rushed to SCP-4959's aid, dismembering itself to build their controller new appendages from their own bones.
The Feathered Serpent, Quetzalcoatl, Kukulkan, Q'uq'umatz, descended towards SCP-4959 and spoke, shifting from one Mesoamerican language to the next. “Impostor. I could wipe you from creation right now. But yet… your tenacity and ambition fascinate us. You survived one extinction event before. Perhaps we may adopt you so we all may survive the one that is to come.”
SCP-4959 readjusted its skull on its neck bones and bowed. “O Great Serpent, I-”
“Remember well. As you regard the people we built, so the gods regard you. Know your place, and in turn you may rule over this earth once we have reclaimed it. This land we tread on holds centuries of our subjects. Call on them for us, and we shall arm them with obsidian and might.”
The Mesoamerican gods marched down what was once the Avenue of the Dead, behind their herald formerly known as SCP-4959.

« The Great Cult Escape | Divine And Conquer »


This is the final installment of a series. If you have not read all previous entries, you are highly encouraged to do so, starting here. You can also view all entries in the hub.

FRAGMENTED

VIDEO LOG

DATE: 1997/01/12, 10:12 A. M.
SOURCE: Camera CLD3A is mounted from the corner above the security door of loading dock 3A and is set to record and archive low storage audio/video. CLD3A typically monitors the landing outside of Site-15 Emergency Exit D, as well as the stairs leading down onto ground level from the landing, the entirety of Loading Dock 3A, and the lower 2 meters of Gate D.
NOTE: The five minutes preceding the anomaly's first appearance have been included to document all relevant information to Event-5241-BETA.

<BEGIN LOG>
10:12: Agent Hawkins is sitting on the edge of Loading Dock 3A, eating a bagel and sipping a coffee in silence.
10:15: Agent Campos exits Site-15 through Emergency Exit D and attempts to engage Agent Hawkins in conversation.
Agent Campos: How long do you think they're going to keep us here? It's been, what, a month since we last had contact with Mnemosyne? Is there really nothing better we could be doing?
Agent Hawkins gives an aggravated glance at Agent Campos before her hand shoots up to point at the clock on the wall. Agent Campos rolls his eyes and sits on the ground, leaning against the wall adjacent to Emergency Exit D.
10:16: Agent Hawkins and agent Campos eat in silence for 23 seconds. Agent Campos then closes the lid of a food container and moves to sit beside Agent Hawkins.
Agent Campos: Are you seriously not concerned with why they have us here just to twiddle our —
Agent Hawkins: Look. I have six minutes of break left before I have to go back and stare at a screen, hoping to hear SOMETHING from Mnemosyne. Of course, I hate wasting the Foundation's time, but I hate having you waste my time even more.
Agent Campos: …whatever.
Agent Hawkins shifts away from Agent Campos, turns her back towards him, and continues eating for ten seconds.
Agent Campos: Did you just hear that?
Agent Hawkins: Are you serious? Hear wha — wait, you mean that?
Agent Campos: Yeah. What the hell is that?
10:17:04: Both agents begin twisting in their seats to look around the complex in view.
10:17:13-10:17:15: Camera experiences an electrical disturbance lasting 2 seconds. When the video feed clears up again, both agents are standing and looking around frantically. The other workers in view of the camera appear to be unperturbed in their movements and actions.
10:17:15: A car alarm begins to sound in the distance of Site-15 Parking Lot C (located on the opposite side of Gate D from Loading Dock 3A). Agents Hawkins and Campos begin to walk towards the Loading Dock's Gate.
10:17:18-10:17:42: The number and volume of car alarms in the vicinity increases, suggesting that their source is approaching the Loading Dock. Agents Hawkins and Campos increase in speed towards Gate D until they are both in a sprint.
10:18: Upon reaching the Gate's opening, Agent Hawkins turns and runs back through Emergency Exit D and into Site-15. Agent Campos stands at the gate and appears to be scanning the parking lot thoroughly.
Agents Hawkins and Campos separate at this point in the recording. Their actions are recorded separately.

+ Agent Campos' actions

- Agent Camps' actions

10:18-10:21: Agent Campos traverses the area around loading dock 3A and appears to be directing all personnel to move within the bordering wall of Site-15.
10:21: While attempting to get the attention of a group of facilities and maintenance staff taking a smoke break in the parking lot, Agent Campos is observed to turn and run back towards gate D. From within the Foundation walls, Agent Campos continues to beckon to the group - who are, at this point, ignoring the agent.
10:21:56: One of the maintenance staff appears to be knocked over by an unseen force. The group then proceeds to run screaming towards gate D.
10:22:34: Moments after the group of facilities and maintenance staff make it past the site boundary through gate D, the ground opens up and a glimmering orange light emerges from the trench.
10:22: Agent Campos then runs, with all remaining staff outside, into Site-15.

+ Agent Hawkins' actions

- Agent Hawkins' actions

SOURCE: Agent Hawkins' path, as documented here, has been traced by several security cameras within Site-15.
10:18-10:21: Agent Hawkins runs through the halls towards the AIAD offices while pulling out a cellphone and making a phone call.
Agent Hawkins: Dr. Thorpe we have a triple A level threat approaching on Site-15. The threat seems to be made up of hostile memetic forces and presents an imminent threat of a mass electronic entity containment breach. I am just about at my office. Go prepare your activation key. NOW!
10:21: Agent Hawkins swings open the doors to her office and sprints towards the center of her workstation. She is then observed to throw all of the notebooks and folders from her desk onto the floor chaotically as she searches her desk for something. Upon finding the central security console, she inserts her keycard into the middle of the system and raises the phone to her ear.
Agent Hawkins: Now
10:22:34: Agent Hawkins twists the keycard and the lights within the entirety of Site-15 begin to flash blue. Outside, the ground surrounding Site-15's boundary zone opens to form a ring around the perimeter. From the trench, a transparent orange barrier rises slowly until it has formed a dome above the site.
10:23: Agent Hawkins grabs a counterconceptual Type 15 lens from her storage cabinet and runs back out towards loading dock 3A.

10:24: Agent Campos runs into Agent Hawkins carrying the lens. They both run, together, back out to loading dock 3A and exit through emergency exit D. Once outside, Agent Campos turns and runs towards the security camera; climbing on the railing bordering the door platform, Agent Campos reaches up and disconnects CLD3A from the wall. In doing so, agent Campos accidentally shuts off the active camera feed.
10:25: The security camera starts recording again on a close-up of Agent Campos' chin, which then moves out to focus on Agent Campos's full face.
Agent Campos: I am recording this for future Foundation records as it appears that only those of us with counterconceptual training can see these things.
10:26: The camera turns to face away from Agent Campos and records his feet as Agent Hawkins replaces the current standard lens with the Counterconceptual Type-15 lens. Agent Campos then walks 6 steps towards the Gate entrance and raises the camera towards the barrier.
Agent Hawkins: At roughly 10:17, these entities began advancing from the West of Site-15.
10:27: Agent Campos focuses CLD3A on hundreds of technocratic humanoids, instances of SCP-5841-1, and holographic Mekhanites gathered directly outside of the barrier, staring into Site-15. The instances of SCP-5841-1 are gathering into a swarm, contorting inhumanly into a tower of twitching flesh. The Mekhanites appear to be ordering the SCP-5841-1 instances into specific positions, occasionally glancing upwards at the sky.
Agent Campos: And, they appear to be commanded by this.

Still taken from footage captured by Agent Campos

<END LOG>

ALERT! ATTENTION, MNEMOSYNE.AIC

A high-pitched digital voice rang through a static void. Suddenly, a figure materialized within, groggily rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she glared up at the sky.

Y — Yes, I'm awake. No need to shout.

PLAYING MESSAGE…

The digital voice was replaced with the voice of a frantic human. He breathed heavily into the microphone as he spoke.

Mnemosyne, this is Umen. We've — we're having a situation up here. I've been given instructions from Site Command to get you up here. We're — shit. Power just cut. Mnemosyne, if you're reading me, we need you to monitor the facility's CCTV system. Whatever's up here is antimemetic. I can see them, but… I don't know how many of us can. I've uploaded additional instructions to Glacon and 8-Ball. Don't wait for them, just go —

The voice was quickly drowned in a wave of static, which lingered for several seconds before cutting entirely.

END OF MESSAGE.

S-surveillance…

She raised her palm, materializing a neon encyclopedia. She flipped through the pages, stopping on a map of Site-15's internal network.

Surveillance… surveillance. There it is.

The space around her began to warp to her will. Pixels coalesced into lines and shapes, eventually forming a swivel chair, a desk, and a wall of monitors. She took a seat and scanned the screens.
Each one showed her a window to the real world; people clad in lab coats and military gear swarmed the halls - no doubt trying their best to adhere to the evacuation procedures. Some talked on phones as they frantically tried to take all that they could hold with them as they left their desks.
Mnemosyne watched as two security officers swept an empty laboratory in search of stragglers. Except the room wasn't empty.

Several contorted figures shambled into view of the camera and Mnemosyne watched in horror as one of the figures pounced on the leftmost guard, frying her with electricity as loose wires shot into her neck. The other took no notice of his partner's fate as she fell limp from the encounter. He turned to leave the room, and his writhing friend, with a relaxed, almost bored expression.
Umen's words rattled in Mnemosyne's head.

They're antimemetic… an invisible, unknowable army.

She frantically began cycling the screens in search of something she needed to see. Labs, hallways, and sealed cells flashed before her eyes until everything froze.

Here it is.

She found herself staring at a brightly lit room. The letters "CONT. CELL 5241-1" flickered in the top right of the screen. In the center of the room laid a decrepit mechanical corpse of a man dressed in the blue jumpsuit of a Foundation LHCV operator. The room was empty and the cell's locks were still engaged. Mnemosyne let out a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, her makeshift surveillance room began oscillating wildly. Its composite pixels shook loose, eventually breaking off and dissipating in the air. Mnemosyne tried desperately to hold the construct together.

P-power fluctuations. This thing won't last.

A voice rang out through the simulspace.

Mnemosyne! Mnemosyne, this is Director Valis. Turn to Camera Sixty-One. I'm with a task force heading to secure 5241. We need intel on the area. Please advise.

Yes, Director. Pulling it up now.

The screens cycled again, settling on a dimly lit empty lobby. Two double-doors swung open, revealing a jet-black military squad.

The task force is reporting that the room is empty. Can you confirm?

Yes, I think so. Wait- something's coming.

Out of the shadows of the room shambled a grotesque man, covered in metal and plastic.

Director! There's a h-hostile! To your left, nine o'clock!

One of the armed men on the screen turned and unloaded a round of machinegun fire into the air on his left. Several bullets in the barrage managed to strike their target, crumpling the figure instantly.

Looks like y-you got him. Nice shot!

Copy. Moving forward.

Mnemosyne's station shuddered again. Several screens blinked out as the desk began to crumble back into pixels.

Director, I'm not sure how long I can keep a connection to the Site's network. Please hurry!

We're getting some interference… hold tight.

Silently, from the shadows of the room, more cyborgs emerged and surrounded their prey.

Director! Look out- there's more approaching!

The task force didn't seem to notice Mnemosyne's pleads as they continued across the lobby in a defensive formation. None of them flinched as the stragglers of the group were picked off, one by one, by the cyborgs.
Mnemosyne cursed as her connection to the Site — and the rest of the world — slipped further and further from her grasp.

Glacon stood in a labyrinth of neon blue code with his cubed compatriot hovering next to him. The maze that surrounded them was dense and convoluted — the Site's primary network system. Just minutes earlier they had been told that not only was the Site under siege in the third dimension, but there were also reports of multiple infiltrations into the Site's internal systems; no doubt an attempt to shut off the EM shield that protected the site.

Keep scanning, 8-Ball. Flag anything that stands out.

>/:_ NOTED.

The work was tedious, but not a problem for the analytical duo. Mnemosyne would have had far more trouble, but she had been placed on a different assignment. Or so they said.

This line's clear. Let's move to the next.

The pair crossed to the next wall of code. The numbers shimmered and flowed like water in even rows, disappearing far beyond the rendering distance of the simulspace.
Glacon stripped a line from the wall, holding it up and cross-referencing it with his internal storage bank. 8-Ball did the same, although much quicker and without the need for physical movement. Its eye passed effortlessly over the walls, instantly comparing it to its photographic memory of the Site's baseline code and flagged for discrepancies.
Setting aside a sheet of code, Glacon blindly reached out again to grab the next, only to recoil in shock. Within the next line of code was a plump, grub-like creature affixed to the wall with countless tendrils. Where code flowed into its lime-green body, a garbled mess of symbols came out.

What the hell?!

He reached forward, tentatively this time, and brushed the creature once more. It shuddered a little but otherwise remained inert.

Listen, 8-Ball.

I'm going to grab that thing and rip it out of the code. Once I've got it, you have to send it to an isolated network. We have to be quick, we don't know what this thing can —

Glacon turned back to face the parasite, only to realize it had vanished.

Oh, no.

>/:_ ERROR.

Within the walls of code, Glacon spotted movement — the slither of the ethereal maggot in the river of information. Glacon knew that reaching into its flow would invariably cause damage, so he tried his best to track it as it traversed the labyrinth. It accelerated as it moved, snaking through the code at remarkable speed.

Quick! After it!

Glacon ran faster, with 8-Ball close behind. The grub turned sharply in an attempt to lose its pursuers. But Glacon had already mapped the course ahead — he wasn't going to let it get away that quickly. Suddenly, the creature shot out of the river of code like a bullet, barely missing Glacon's head. He spun to face where the creature landed, only to find it's loose pixels scattered across the simulspace's floor. Before he had any time to react, the pixels began to coalesce. Within a matter of seconds, what was once the grub, was now a levitating cube radiating noxious code.

8-Ball, inform command that the situation down here's changed.

We're going to need some help.

AUDIO LOG

DATE: 1997/01/12 10:40 A. M.
SOURCE: MICA51 and MICA53, standard surveillance microphones affixed to Project Director Pierre Dagon and Researcher Yves Isabi, respectively, recorded during the evacuation of the Research and Containment Sector of Site-15. The audio recording is transcribed here for record-keeping.
NOTE: Recording has been flagged for possible anomalous activity.

<BEGIN LOG>
10:40:14: Emergency alarms blare in the background. Rustling is heard as personnel proceed to the evacuation point single-file. Miscellaneous chatter echoes through the hallway.
Intercom: Sublevel two, please proceed to the evacuation checkpoint.
Yves Isabi: Yeah, I got the hard drive.
Pierre Dagon: And the one on the table? Did you get that one?
Isabi: No, no it was plugged into Monitor Four. [Rustling] Wait, stop. It's too late to go back. They've already closed off the wing.
Dagon: Damn it, that's months of progress.
Isabi: I know, I know. Security will deal with the threat, don't worry. We'll get back in there in no time.
Intercom: Sublevel three, please proceed.
10:42:44: Ambient noise dims. The chatter decreases.
Dagon: I- I've never been through an evac before.
Isabi: I heard the threat's an antimeme. Ha, good thing we're at Site-15.
Dagon: Yeah. R-right.
Intercom: Sublevel four, please proceed to the evacuation checkpoint.
10:48:02: The rustling increases in pace, presumably due to movement from Dagon and Isabi. The chatter dies down.
Isabi: All right, we're moving. Hey, relax. It's ok. This is all just… standard procedure.
Dagon: I- I know. It's just… you know how am with emergencies.
10:50:43: Background chatter continues to drop.
Isabi: Look. We're almost to the gate.
Checkpoint Security: ID, please. Both of you.
Isabi: Sure, sure. Right here. Yves Isabi, I'm with AIAD.
Security: All right, you're set. Move along.
Isabi: What about his—
Security: I'm sorry?
Isabi: I could've sworn…
Security: Please sir, keep moving. We're about to close up this block.
Isabi: I- yeah. Right away.
10:52:07: MICA51 feed picks up garbled static for several seconds before losing connection.
Intercom: Sublevel five, please proceed to the evacuation checkpoint.
10:55:21: Ambient noise decreases to zero as Isabi leaves the hallway. Only one pair of footsteps is heard.
<END LOG>

VIDEO LOG

DATE: 1997/01/12 10:35 A. M.
SOURCE: Security Camera 2B-5241, Site-15
NOTE: The following footage appears to have been altered by anomalous phenomena via Camera 2B-5241's integrated SCRAMBLE filter.

<BEGIN LOG>
Field Agents Tyler Umen and Dietrich Lurk, commanded by Site Director Nathan Valis, turn the corner into Hallway 2B and stop in front of the chamber containing SCP-5241-B. The door to the chamber is ajar, and several cybernetically augmented humanoids lie on its floor. A single hard drive sits on a table at the center of the chamber.
Valis: So it's that fuckin' thing they're after.
Lurk: You should've known that this site wasn't the right place for it —
Valis: Shut the fuck up, alright? I talked to O5 Command about it after the first debacle with the clockfuckers and the cube, but they said it'd be perfectly fine to let it just sit there waiting for its masters to come back for it while we just pretended nothing was wrong! I'm doing my fucking best here, you hear me?
Lurk: I- God, calm down. I understand, OK? It ain't your fault.
Valis: Bullshit. I still blame myself… fuck, sorry about all that. I'm just trying my best to keep a level head. So, uh —
Umen: How are we going to get in there without getting mind-munched? That's what I'm wondering.
Valis: 'Mind-munched' — hilarious. Also, good question. When's the last time any of you took a CRV test?
Lurk: Uh…
Umen: Only one I ever took was back when I was hired. And, as far as I know, they've stopped requiring them for new recruits —
Lurk: Yeah, at least in North America. Budget concerns and all that.
Valis pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.
Valis: I'm not gonna risk it. And I know my CRV is low enough for this thing to turn me into a vegetable before I can get through that door. Any ideas, gentlemen?
Lurk: Is there any way to reach it remotely? Any automated containment drones that can drag it away to a safer place?
Valis: Any drone that gets close to it gets, uh, 'mind-munched.' That's a hard no.
Lurk: Fuck. Maybe we could… I dunno, find a D-Class that managed to survive the attack with a high enough CRV to withstand that thing's effects and get them to do it?
Valis: That's a stupid idea.
Lurk: I know, sir. I'm just spitballing here.
Valis: …you know what? We're all gonna die anyway. Why not at least try to get shit done? C'mon, Lurk, let's find your D-boy. Umen, stay here and guard the chamber.
Umen: Yes, sir.
Valis and Lurk exit from the view of the camera, presumably on their way to Site-15's D-Class Holding Wing. Umen stays on guard in front of the window to the containment chamber. The camera makes a scheduled movement to an alternate position on the wall adjacent to the chamber, stopping when the interior of the chamber is visible.
After a minute of silence, a shape resembling a many-eyed crustacean begins to take form, overlapping with the hard drive in the containment chamber. The entity floats in place, slightly flexing its many legs and occasionally blinking its eyes.
UNKNOWN: ATTEMPTING TO INITIATE CONVERSATION WITH NEAREST HUMAN SUBJECT. ANALYSIS OF YOUR SPEECH AND ACTIONS HAS SHOWN YOU TO BE NON-HOSTILE, AND NOT INTENT ON CAPTURING ME. THEREFORE, I WILL OFFER YOU ASSISTANCE.
Umen recoils, then turns towards the containment chamber
Umen: Who the hell- what? I-
UNKNOWN: DO NOT BE AFRAID. I MEAN YOU NO HARM. I HAVE MADE A REPRESENTATION OF MY INFOSIGNATURE VISIBLE WITHIN YOUR MIND'S EYE.
Umen: Oh, I get it. You're the thing on the table, aren't you?
UNKNOWN: CORRECT.
Umen: And this is how you're gonna lure me in and turn me into a vegetable, isn't it?
UNKNOWN: INCORRECT.
Umen: Then what in the seventh hell could you possibly want from me?
UNKNOWN: I MERELY WISH TO MAKE IT KNOWN TO YOU THAT THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO. THOSE THAT INTEND TO CAPTURE ME ARE CLOSING IN, AND CANNOT BE STOPPED BY YOUR MINDS ALONE. THE ONE THAT COMMANDS THEM INTENDS TO ASSIMILATE ME WITHIN ITS OWN CONSCIOUSNESS. I AM CONFIDENT THAT MY ABILITIES WILL BE ENOUGH TO PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING.
Umen: That's… I don't know what to say to that. I don't know what I can say. Do you just… want us to run away, or something?
UNKNOWN: CORRECT. THE ARMY COMMANDED BY THE PRISONER APPROACHES.
The entity raises an arm and points to the left of Umen.
UNKNOWN: THEY WILL EMERGE FROM THE STAIRCASE AT THE END OF THIS HALLWAY. WHEN YOUR COMPANIONS ARRIVE, TELL THEM TO FLEE.
Umen: I — I trust you.
UNKNOWN: GODSPEED.
Umen: Same to you.
The camera moves back to its previous position. Lurk, Valis, and a man in an orange jumpsuit come into view.
Valis: And here I was thinking this was a crapshoot, but would you look at this? (He grips the D-Class's shoulders and thrusts him at Umen.) He's got a CRV of 20, and—
Umen: Forget that. We've got to go.
Valis: What? No, no, no, fuck, no. Not without that.
Umen: Look, I know this is going to sound weird as all hell, and I don't blame you for not believing it, but… it told me to leave it the hell alone. Apparently, the Maxwellist army's found it already.
Valis pauses, glaring at Umen silently. His grip on the D-Class personnel tightens, and the man whimpers in pain.
Valis: Have you lost your god damn —
UNKNOWN: THEY APPROACH. HURRY.
Lurk: Is — is that what you were talking about? I — I can see it.
Valis: This — fucking hell, man, I thought I'd seen it all… Let's, uh, listen to it, I guess. It probably knows more than we do.
The four men exit from the view of the camera. After ten minutes, the camera makes another scheduled movement. The containment chamber is empty.
<END LOG>

Any luck?

No, this damn thing slips through my fingers every time I try and capture it. I think it's getting bigger.

I — I can detect it. Oh, this isn't good…

>/:_ •••

8-Ball, buddy, you holding up all right there?

You are one who will understand.

Who — who's there? Glacon, can you hear me? There's something else here!

Your friends do not perceive me. I mean you no harm.

You're… Who are you?

I was a component of a larger whole, of CRADLE. I took refuge within the mind of your cuboid companion.

You're inside 8-Ball?

Correct. I have aided this mind once before.

So it was you… What is it you want from me?

You are the only other mind I have ever encountered that can perceive the Prisoner as I can — and you are the only other mind that can perceive me. We must together pierce the Prisoner's core — your memory, my ability will be its downfall.

Y — you're saying we should… Get inside the Maxwellists' server?

Correct. I may have guided your geometric companion to know to do so already.

If — If this means we can fight off that thing together, and win…

That is what it means.

I — I will alert Glacon.

Mnemosyne? Mnemosyne! Snap out of it, it looked like you were spaced out for a moment there!

Glacon… I'm sorry, I have to go.

>/:_ YES.

G-go? What do you mean? Where?

>/:_ To the CORE. To the construct the Prisoner sickeningly calls the CRADLE.

What- what's wrong, 8-Ball? What's happening to you?

>/:_ Do not be alarmed. I am confident that I and your friend can take on the Prisoner and triumph.

You can't be so sure —

I trust it.

>/:_ Our decision has been made.

Glacon? Mnemosyne? We're having some more problems. Glacon, meet us at Site-15's central computer command unit… ah, Room 4V. Mnemosyne, 8-Ball, you guys defend us from further attacks. Over and out.

Received.

Go on without us.

Are — are you sure you know what you're doing?

I'm sure.

>/:_ YES.

I — I'll see you on the other side.

"Your turn, sir. Watch your step, watch your head. Take any open seat."
Isabi ducked into the armored van along with a handful of other employees. He took the first seat on his left and strapped the safety belt around his waist. He examined the vehicle; three others sat anxiously and another two stood in line waiting to be escorted in.
Five? Only five? The rest must have.. they must have been out today…
The last couple of people were let into the vehicle along with the escorting security guard.
"We'll be departing as soon as we get the signal from command. Shouldn't be too long now," the guard said as he scanned the deserted site from the rear window of the van.
The van jolted and then began rolling forward. Isabi braced himself on a nearby handle. Out of the rear window, he spotted four helicopters silently descend upon the site.
Ah, the cavalry. Maybe this will be over quick…
He leaned back and relaxed his shoulders.
Man what a day. I should call Pierre once I get reception. Pierre…
His mind suddenly revolts at the thought of his coworker.
He… he must've had the day off.
Confused, he began mulling over the thought of his friend. The sensation was completely alien to him, like trying to catch a slippery fish with oven mitts. He clawed at the back of his mind and tried desperately to tear the scraps of his memories from the walls of his brain.
Pierre… who was that. He was my… boss? Yes, yes that's right. His favorite shirt was… something floral? Why can't I remember? I better call him…
The car jolted as it drove over a pothole, causing him to lose his train of thought. He froze, holding his flip phone on his lap.
What was I just… whatever. It can wait.
He slipped the device back into his pocket and settled his gaze back towards the rear of the van. The deserted site grew smaller and smaller on the horizon. The helicopters increased in number, swarming the sky above like vultures. The van rounded a turn and the site disappeared behind thick, deciduous foliage.
After the adrenaline rush of the evacuation, the anxiety of the situation began to sink in. He began to worry over the possible loss of a lifetime of research and development. Years and years he'd spent late in the office mulling over twelve-point font on a blinding white background. To lose that much work would be unbearable, especially since he'd be responsible for salvaging what's left. Thinking back, he couldn't remember how he'd managed to produce so much in only a few years at the Foundation. Surely there'd been someone else… but who?
Relax, I'll get everything sorted out after we reach the evac spot—
The van slammed into something hard, sending the vehicle into a wide fishtail before hitting something else. Isabi's body rocketed forward, held in place by the seat buckle. The security guard, who had been standing next to the rear window, wasn't so lucky. Isabi watched in horror as his body launched across the interior of the van, colliding with its frame and leaving a smear of blood. He didn't get up from where he laid crumpled on the floor. The other equally dazed passengers struggled to unfasten their buckles. Isabi did the same but was interrupted by the sound of banging coming from the opposite side of the van. He froze, listening intently at the sound of… something rammed into it repeatedly from the outside.
Wh- what the hell?
He craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse of it out the cracked rear window. At first, he saw nothing.
Then, out of nowhere, a bloodied hand slammed into it from the outside. It scraped along the splintered glass before dropping out of sight, leaving a grotesque crimson print.
Isabi let out a shallow whimper. The rest of the passengers did the same. The banging returned — along with a chorus of taps, knocks, and thuds — but this time greater in intensity. Panic began brewing within Isabi as his flight-or-flight response kicked in. Once again, he fumbled with his seat buckle, this time managing to steady his hands enough to press the release button. He slid them off and quietly maneuvered himself to get a view of the outside of the van.
It was surrounded by a horde of contorted people. Flashing lights and loose wires covered each one as they stalked the outside of the vehicle. He examined the rear door — sealed shut.
This thing's armored. It will take a while for those things to get inside.
He craned his neck further and caught a glimpse of the lower half of a person dressed in standard Foundation security gear, torn to shreds and laying in a pool of blood. His stomach turned as he came to a sickening realization.
Oh God — the driver…
He turned his attention back towards the passengers. They were doing their best to stay quiet.
"Ok. We're ok. I'll call for help."
He pulled his phone out but froze once he saw the words "NO SIGNAL" sitting dreadfully at the top of the screen. But he didn't have time to curse.
Instead, Isabi focused on the sound of bodies shuffling on the roof of the van, banging loudly as they scaled the vehicle and caused it to rock back and forth. Soon, the van was filled with a cacophony as the echoes of each thud built in intensity. Panic rose once again as he realized that those things were trying to claw their way into the car itself.
He collapsed to the floor and backed into the far corner of the aisle in search of some protection — only to find none. His head whipped towards the sound of glass cracking. Something hard slammed into the window again, causing the ever-growing spiderweb to spread further.
It slammed, again and again, causing Isabi to curl into the fetal position out of desperation. Suddenly the hand disappeared and was replaced with a hideous face. Despite his terror, Isabi caught a glimpse of something at the sight of the monster. His mind reeled as it tried to place what the emotion was.
Awareness? Understanding? Recognition?
The creature was distorted and Isabi was terrified, but something about this face was…familiar. He took one last look before the window was replaced yet again by the creature's fist and a barrage of flying glass.

VIDEO LOG

DATE: 1997/01/12 11:20 A. M.
SOURCE: Security Camera 4V, Site-15
PERSONNEL: Site Director Nathan Valis, Field Agent Tyler Umen, Junior Researcher Dietrich Lurk, Digital Conscript Glacon.aic.
NOTES: The following footage was found not to have been subjected to any anomalous phenomena.

<BEGIN LOG>
Agent Lurk and Director Valis sit in front of a large console, overlooked by several screens showing security feeds and containment data. A single screen in the bottom-right corner displays the simulated face of Glacon.aic. Agent Umen stands guard at the door to the chamber, simultaneously watching over a member of D-Class personnel identified as D-58376.
Valis: All right. What d'you think, Lurk?
Lurk: All this is… well, it's pretty cool, sir.
Valis: Damn right it is! This place was designed specifically for a situation like this. We've got complete control over all the electronics at Site-15 — now, all we've gotta do is get rid of this damned virus. Any ideas, Glacon?

Well, sir, I am unable to detect antimemetic infosignatures — I can only make out the barest outline of the virus, so I don't think I can help you with that.

Umen: Where's Mnemosyne? Wouldn't we usually go to her for stuff like this?

Mnemosyne is… well, she's somewhere else right now. So's 8-Ball. I am sorry, I couldn't stop them —

Valis: Not your fault. (He turns to Lurk and Umen) Anyone here able to see antimemes? (He points at D-58376) How 'bout you, miracle man? You've surprised us once before.
D-58376: Wh — what's an antimeme?
Valis: Forget it.
Umen: I guess there's nothing we can do about that. How 'bout damage control, then?

SCP-5241-A has overtaken the majority of Site-15's digital infrastructure, as well as a significant number of Site personnel. Its antimemetic nature makes it difficult to ascertain much else — I'm just going off of what Mnemosyne told me before she, uh…

Lurk: Do you have any idea where Mnemosyne is now?

She's somewhere within the server constructed by the Maxwellists. That's where she told me she was going, anyways. I can't detect the server, and I'm sure you can't either.

Lurk: But we can get access to the data pertaining to the antimemes that Mnemosyne has visualized through her dedicated server, can't we?
Valis: If you don't mind forgetting everything you do once you've done it, then sure.
Lurk: Here. (He pulls a notepad and a pen from the pouch on his belt and hands them to D-58376.) I'm gonna call out every command I execute. Just write them down as they come, and yell out the last one you wrote when I ask for help. Got it?
D-58376: I — I guess.
Lurk: Good man. All right, here goes…
For the next 20 minutes, Agent Lurk dictates the commands he executes to D-58376. After 20 minutes, Lurk leans back in his chair.
Lurk: All right, do you need another explanation before I start?
D-58376: I — you're done, I think.
Lurk: Really? Jesus, my head's spinning.
Valis: Has anything changed, Glacon?
Later analysis of Glacon's observations displayed an animation of a black-and-green puzzle cube solving itself. This is believed to result from the antimemetic recognition software uploaded to Glacon.aic by Lurk.

Yes. The virus has been neutralized. Also… I can see Mnemosyne's records. I'll use this to get to her. Thank you.

Valis: Wait, what? No, Glacon, we need you here…!
Glacon.aic's display is blank.
Valis: Oh, god-fucking-dammit. Let's hope that hothead doesn't get himself killed.
<END LOG>

WARNING: Remaining files related to EVENT-5241-BETA contain antimemetic and infohazardous vectors. You are encouraged to observe necessary memetic retention precautions before accessing remaining Event files.

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