Item #: SCP-5XXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature, SCP-5XXX cannot be conventionally contained. A disinformation campaign is to be carried out asserting that it is a vestigial organ from humanity's evolutionary past.
In accordance with Procedure 5XXX-Alpha, any SCP-5XXX-1 instance with extensive knowledge of the Foundation or the anomalous must be either brought into the Foundation as an employee, or terminated. Extensive knowledge constitutes evidence that these things exist, and a willingness to share said evidence.
SCP-5XXX-1 instances employed by the foundation should be kept away from roles involved with secure information, due to the near impossibility of removing said information from the memories of -1 instances.
Description: SCP-5XXX is a brain structure found in approximately 0.013% of people - referred to as SCP-5XXX-1 instances - that is capable of producing strong mnestic chemicals in response to unknown stimuli. As such, any person in possession of the SCP-5XXX structure will have greatly reduced response to amnestics and other memory-altering effects (including anomalous ones), and a greatly improved conventional long-term memory. SCP-5XXX-1 instances are also anomalously drawn to to antimemetic objects and ideas, and possess some level of shielding from their effects.
SCP-5XXX is theorised to be a now-redundant defence against memory-altering and antimemetic predators in humanity's distant past. These predators would have been very hard to perceive or remember, and likely would have extended these traits to their victims. SCP-5XXX would have served as an effective defence by making SCP-5XXX-1 instances much more capable of perceiving, tracking and warning others of these predators. It is known to the Foundation that such entities did exist and were at times extremely widespread, making this a likely explanation for SCP-5XXX's existence.
The chemicals produced by SCP-5XXX are highly unstable outside of the body, and rapidly deteriorate when exposed to air, light and most chemical tests. As such, the makeup of the chemicals is entirely unknown, and is likely impossible to test with the Foundation's current technology. In the few cases that the chemicals have survived outside the body for long enough to be injected into a baseline human, they have had the expected result - nullifying the effects of amnestics.
Of note is that around 2% of Foundation employees are SCP-5XXX-1 instances, over 150 times the expected number. This is partially due to the use of Procedure 5XXX-Alpha, and also likely due to the Foundation's use of amnestics not properly wiping the memories of unknown SCP-5XXX-1 instances, making them more likely to remember and attempt to join the Foundation.
Addendum 5XXX-1: Procedure 5XXX-Alpha
Procedure 5XXX-Alpha is designed to minimise the risk of an information breach or possible Lifted Veil scenario due to an SCP-5XXX-1 instance gaining information on the Foundation or the anomalous in general and spreading it further than the Foundation could reasonably clear up.
Foundation operatives are to continuously monitor print and digital media for any information on the Foundation or anomalous phenomena, in accordance with standard procedures. If any civilian continues to display knowledge following being tracked down and amnesticized, they are to be detained by the nearest foundation presence and scanned for the presence of SCP-5XXX. Should they possess it, they are to be put in contact with Researcher Lysandra Peterson and her team for recruitment.
SCP-5XXX-1 instances should be given accurate information on the general nature of the Foundation and the anomalous, as well as details about SCP-5XXX, so as to ensure their decision is a properly informed one. They are to be encouraged to join the Foundation, usually at low level positions, as the only alternative is termination. As the termination of people for something out of their control is a needless waste of human life and highly unethical, this should only be employed as a last resort.
Addendum 5XXX-2: Testing Log
Test ID: 5XXX-01
Date: 1997/03/18
Details of test: D-68501, a known SCP-5XXX-1 instance, was asked to memorise a list of numbers, then repeat them back after being given class-A amnestics.
Results: D-68501 repeated the numbers back with perfect accuracy.
Test ID: 5XXX-02
Date: 1997/04/02
Details of test: D-68501, after confirming that he could still remember the numbers from the first test, was treated with targeted class-C amnestics and asked to repeat the numbers again.
Results: D-68501 repeated the numbers back with 96% accuracy.
Note: This shows that SCP-5XXX may have weaknesses to certain types of amnestics, but given that a full dose of class-Cs only resulted in 4% memory erasure, recruitment and termination are still much more viable options. - Researcher A Stevens
Test ID: 5XXX-03
Date: 1997/04/19
Details of test: D-74556, another SCP-5XXX-1 instance, was asked to memorise a similar list of numbers. However, D-74556 was not told of the nature of the test, and was informed that she was a member of the control group. Class-A amnestics were then given to her via her lunch in the D-class cafeteria. Later in the day, D-74556 was asked to repeat the list of numbers.
Results: The amnestics had very limited effect, with D-74556 remembering 92% of the list of numbers and remarking on a slight confusion on what she had eaten for lunch.
Note: It appears that 5XXX has limited effectiveness when the subject is not told they are being amnesticized. D-74556 was deliberately not told about the test at any point including afterwards as to retain a subject for future tests of a similar nature. - Researcher A Stevens
Test ID: 5XXX-04
Date: 1997/05/12
Details of test: D-68501 was placed in an nMRI scanner, then asked to memorise a list of numbers. He was then given class-A amnestics intravenously while still in the scanner.
Results: No activity was detected in SCP-5XXX while D-68501 was reading or memorising the numbers. However, a large spike of activity was detected around 38 seconds after the amnestics were injected, corresponding with the time it would take them to reach the brain from the injection site.
Note: It appears 5XXX plays no part in actually memorising information, and instead only acts to prevent the loss of it. Further experimentation is required. - Stevens
[Extraneous tests omitted for brevity]
Test ID: 5XXX-11
Date: 2002/08/07
Details of test: D-68501 was sedated, and underwent surgery to remove SCP-5XXX from his brain. The purpose of this test was both to work out what other functions 5XXX contributed to (if any), and to better study its structure.
Results: D-68501 became comatose, and as of 2008/02/17 remains in this state. The 5XXX instance was successfully extracted from his brain, but despite careful study, no information on its method of function could be ascertained.
Note: I will not lie, this test was a failure. We lost a cooperative 5XXX-1 instance and it was all for nothing. Sometimes I wonder why we do what we do. Surely procedure 5XXX-alpha is enough. Do we really need to take everything apart and see what makes it tick? Because when we do, innocent people die. But then I remember that when we don't, more people die. Understanding is the key to containment - and containment is our job. - Researcher A Stevens
Following Test 5XXX-11 and the loss of D-68501, testing was suspended indefinitely.
Since around 1987, the population of SCP-5XXX-1 instances has been increasing, and as of 2052/05/17, they now make up 0.036% of the global population. Over the same timescale, Foundation monitoring scripts flagged a 270% increase in missing persons calls where the description given does not match any known person, living or dead.
Item #: SCP-5XXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5XXX is to be stored in a refrigerated containment chamber at -20 degrees Celsius. Should the refrigeration unit fail, it must be repaired or replaced by female personnel before the object reaches 0 degrees Celsius.
Under no circumstances are male personnel to come within 50 metres of the object.
Description: SCP-5XXX is a small statue of an erect penis that visually resembles marble, but possesses thermal properties similar to human flesh. It causes an anomalous compulsion in all human males that increases in range and strength exponentially with the temperature of the object, hence the need for a refrigerated containment chamber. The compulsion causes affected males to seek out the object and attempt to take it for themselves, ignoring any and all interference short of being physically restrained. Successful attempts invariably end in death, however, as touching the object has been fatal in all recorded cases. The exact cause of death is currently unknown, but it appears to be a complete neural overload similar to a seizure. SCP-5XXX has no effect on female humans, or other species of any gender. A small inscription on the base reads "A punishment for lust - one of a set of two". It is theorised that a similar object exists that only has an effect on females, but this is not conclusively known.
Affected individuals can be forcibly removed from the object's radius of effect with little to no long-lasting consequences. Personnel who have experienced the effect and been recovered report experiencing tunnel vision, increased heart rate and (something else possibly sexual). These effects fade rapidly upon removal from the effect's radius.
Discovery: SCP-5XXX was discovered after a series of missing persons cases in █████, France. Local police forces tracked the cause down to a nearby convent, where all but one member of the all-male detective team went missing. Automated monitoring protocols alerted the Foundation, and a containment team was sent in. One agent succumbed to the compulsion and was killed before the nature of the anomaly was ascertained, after which the female members of the team were able to contain and relocate the object to Site-473.
Addendum 5XXX-1: Incident 5XXX-Alpha
On 2022/04/12, SCP-████ breached containment, causing widespread damage to Site-473, including cutting power to SCP-5XXX's containment chamber. This disabled the refrigeration unit and fire suppression system in the chamber. Structural damage in the area also caused a gas main to burst and ignite, lighting a large fire in SCP-5XXX's chamber. The object rapidly heated up to around 400 degrees Celcius, at which point its effect amplified to the point that it cased seizure-like symptoms in every male within an approximately 2 kilometre radius. Around 80% of affected personnel expired.
Researcher Andrew Moore, however, survived this effect, and managed to access SCP-5XXX's containment chamber and extinguish the fire. How he remained unaffected by the object (link here) is currently unknown.
Following this incident, SCP-████ was relocated to Site-54, as it was deemed more capable of dealing with breach events. The refrigeration unit and fire suppression system in SCP-5XXX's chamber were both given a dedicated backup power supply to avoid a repeat of the event.
Researcher Andrew Moore woke up to the sound of breach alarms, falling masonry and squealing; the smell of smoke; and an ever so subtle feeling that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. He sat up in the chair he'd been sleeping in, searched his desk for a gun, or a baton, or even anything heavy, and then remembered that bullets had a tendency to not work against the pig. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed a fire extinguisher and headed for the surface, stepping over piles of rubble as he went.
"THIS IS AN AUTOMATED MESSAGE. SCP-7704 HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT STOP TO COLLECT PERSONAL BELONGINGS. REPEAT: THIS IS AN AUTOMATED MESSAGE…". Andrew winced at the volume of the voice. The intercom had always been too loud at Site-473, and today was no exception. Pausing to catch his breath, Andrew noticed the corridor to SCP-5XXX's containment chamber. He only vaguely remembered the conprocs for it, but he knew it needed to be kept cold or Bad Things Would Happen, and it looked like something was burning in there. Things were already Bad, but whatever 5XXX did could potentially make it worse, so he hefted the fire extinguisher and went to secure, contain, and/or protect.
"What do you remember of Friday's events?" Across from Andrew sat a stony-faced Senior Researcher. He had been called in for a debriefing on 7704's breach, and despite knowing it would most likely be a 10-minute in-and-out affair, he had a horrible feeling he'd done something wrong.
"Well, I… I won't lie to you, I was asleep in my chair when the alarms went off. I could smell smoke, so I grabbed a fire extinguisher before leaving."
"Why did you enter the containment chamber of SCP-5XXX?"
"I remember seeing in the conprocs that it needed to stay cold, and it looked like there was a fire in there, so I went in and put it out." Andrew swallowed, then looked up from the desk. "Can I go now?"
His inquisitor shuffled the papers in his hands and cleared his throat. "Andrew, the special containment procedures for SCP-5XXX specifically state that no male personnel are to go within 50 metres of the object."
"Ok, ok, I didn't actually memorise the conprocs like I was supposed to but-" The figure opposite him raised a finger.
"Andrew, when 5XXX reached 400 degrees Celcius, it demonstrated a secondary effect." The hairs rose on Andrew's arms. "Every male within a 2 kilometre radius simultaneously suffered a seizure."
"W-what?"
"At the moment, you have no reason to be alive."
Andrew lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. For the last two weeks he'd been in a containment cell, and had only been let out this afternoon. They'd run all sorts of tests on him - SRAs, Kant counters, the works - and nothing had been out of the ordinary. Forced to conclude it had been a one-time freak event, the higher-ups had let him get back to work. That didn't quell Andrew's doubts, though. Despite all the evidence, he couldn't shake the feeling there was something wrong with him.
Sighing, and realising he wasn't going to get any sleep like this, Andrew swung his legs out of bed and made his way towards the fridge.
Andrew woke up, and immediately wished he hadn't. It was clear by the pain in his head - and the large number of empty aluminium cans on the floor - that he had drunk more than the one or two beers he had initially planned. He rolled out of bed and began the slow process of getting dressed.
Thirty minutes later, he was seated at a desk that was more paper than useable space. In front of him lay two weeks of documents: memorandums, containment reports, and many others besides; followed by another mountain of email. Groaning inwardly, he picked up a sheet and got to work. First on the agenda: 7704 had been relocated to a site that was "more capable of dealing with breach events". Ignoring the obvious jab at 473's security team, and the pain behind his eyes, he threw the paper in the bin and picked up another sheet. Then another, then another…
For the fifth time this week, and the fifth evening in a row, Andrew lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He'd put some music on this time, so it wouldn't be completely silent in his one-person dorm. Five days had passed, and he still hadn't figured out what was wrong with him.
"I don't want to be, a crumbling, crumbling, crumbling castle…"
Andrew let out a short laugh. He was crumbling, alright. Whatever it was was eating him from the inside out, and he was powerless to stop it. Andrew had always known he was different. He'd never wanted to be normal, to fit in. But now suddenly he didn't, and and all he wanted was to be normal again.
"You must not accept, his sick version of, life itself…"
Andrew didn't know what kind of life this was, but it certainly wasn't one worth living. He wished he'd never gone into 5XXX's chamber that Friday. He wished he'd never gotten a job at the Foundation. He wished he'd never been born. Resigned to his fate, he lay back and focused on the music.
"I see all there is, and has ever been. I am not a man, I am everything…"
Andrew's eyes snapped open. Maybe that was it? Maybe the reason 5XXX didn't fry his brain that day was because he wasn't a man? He had no idea what that meant, but it was the best idea he had had so far. And for some reason, it made him feel… weirdly happy. Like a thousand butterflies had appeared in his chest. Satisfied that he'd solved at least something, Andrew closed his eyes and tried once again to sleep. This time, he was successful.
Andrew (suddenly it felt wrong to think of himself as that) cast through his (her) mind for anything else that would support this hypothesis. There had always been thoughts of wanting to be female, but these had always been dismissed as childish fantasy or some kind of twisted fetishization. Suddenly these feelings were cast in a new light. There was also the time he had spent with 914 last year, and it had spat out a personnel dossier for Emily Moore. A smile found its way onto Andrew's (yeah, definitely wrong) face as his whole life started making sense.
That night, Researcher Andrew Moore went to bed for the last time.
The following morning, Emily Moore woke up.
Name: Researcher Andrew Moore
Date: 16/05/2021
Total Items: One personnel dossier for Andrew Moore; one bottle of cat spray, used for disciplining domesticated cats
Input: Personnel Dossier
Setting: 1:1
Output: One personnel dossier for "Researcher Emily Moore", closely matching Researcher Moore's background and achievements. There is no record of an Emily Moore having worked at the Foundation, and Researcher Moore has no relatives with the name.
Note: I have no idea what this means, but I have a weird feeling it will be very important down the line. I'm keeping this in my desk. - Researcher Moore
Input: One bottle of cat spray
Setting: Fine
Output: One bottle of "spray cat". When used, it produces a cat with an average age of 2 years. A wide range of breeds have been observed. Cats evaporate after around 30 minutes if left alone, and near-instantly if terminated, making autopsies impossible. Item incinerated.
Item #: SCP-58008-J
Object Class: Cupid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-58008-J-1 and -2 are to reside at Site-473. They are to be granted Level 3 clearance and allowed to roam the Site freely. Should SCP-58008-J-1 ever speak the words "I love you" (or any other phrase or sentence with similar meaning) in reference to -2, or vice-versa, SCP-58008-J is to be considered neutralised.
Description: SCP-58008-J refers to Researcher Emily Moore (SCP-58008-J-1) and Senior Researcher Lysandra Peterson (SCP-58008-J-2); and their collective inability to realise they are dating.
SCP-58008-J-1 and -2 spend a large amount of time in each others presence, and perform many activities consistent with those in a romantic partnership. These activities are referred to as Date Delta Events. The main thing that differentiates them from a couple is their frequent denial that they are romantically involved at all, preferring to refer to themselves as close friends, "gal pals", or "just roommates".
Addendum 58008-J-1: Discovery
The first recorded interaction between SCP-58008-J-1 and -2 was on 2023/11/18, when -2 was transferred to Site-473 to research SCP-████ (replace with numbers if i ever write one lol). At the time, -1 was residing alone in a 2-person room, and -2 was moved in, as no other spaces were available.
Lysandra Peterson checked her watch. 17:43. The security team were supposed to be here by now. She'd been waiting on security teams all goddamn day, and it was starting to wear a little thin. Foundation security teams were not exactly known for their punctuality, but today had been particularly bad. From the guy at the checkpoint on the way out of 77, to the guy who was supposed to be escorting her on the flight over, to the girl on the way in to 473, to the -
"Hey, are you Peterson?" A guard had appeared in the doorway.
"Yeah, that's me," replied Lysandra, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.
"Alright, good. You're in room 23, down that corridor, second left. Your bags are still being cleared, but your keycard is ready." The guard grimaced. "Sorry about the delay."
"It's fine, really, don't worry about it," Lysandra lied.
Emily Moore walked into her room after a long day of cataloguing containment reports, sorting through security data, and many other menial paper-oriented tasks. She thought she'd seen enough paper for the day, but the stack on her desk - topped with a post-it note - proved otherwise.
Hey Emily - we got you a roommate. She gets here at 6, read the barely legible script. Director Schmidt's handwriting, no doubt. Seating herself (incorrectly of course) in her office chair, she began to read.
A million worries swirled around in Lysandra's head - what if she doesn't like me, what if I don't like her, what if she's homophobic and does the whole "don't hit on me" thing, what if, what if, what if. Transferring to a new site was always stressful, particularly one in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. And particularly when you like girls and are getting moved in with one.
Above all of these worries, though, was one singular thought - "I hope she's cute".
There was a soft knock on the door. Researcher Emily Moore looked up from the personnel dossier of her new roommate, and wondered if it was her. Sliding out of her chair, she made her way to the door of her accommodation.
"Hello?" came a voice from the other side of the door. Emily didn't recognise it.
"Hi! I'll let you in, just - gimme a second!" Emily called back, desperately trying to arrange her hair into something even remotely presentable.
"I've got a keycard; I'll let myself in." A quiet beep, and the sound of a lock disengaging. The door opened.
Standing in the doorway was a woman that Emily could only describe as beautiful. From her shoulder-length blonde hair and soft brown eyes, to her oversized t-shirt and faded jeans, all five-foot-nine of her was perfect. Or - not perfect, but offset in just the right way. Emily thought about speaking, but realised she couldn't, and elected to let her new roommate take the lead.
"I'm Lysandra. And I presume you're Emily?" Her voice was even better when it wasn't being heard through a door.
"Lysandra, huh?" Emily managed. "That's an… interesting name."
"Yeah, my parents were dicks." She laughed. "Just call me Liz."
"I'll, uh… I'll clear a space for your stuff." Speaking was hard when your conversation partner was this attractive.
"Oh, no, my bags haven't been cleared yet." Liz hesitated. "Actually, they might be done by now. I should check."
Holy shit. Cute wasn't the half of it. Messy hair, blue eyes, clothes that didn't quite fit and hung off her frame in the best possible way - make no mistake, Emily was amazing. And her voice! In that elusive not-quite-low-not-quite-high register that came once in a blue moon. Liz had also spotted a familiar purple flag on the wall, and knew she was in safe hands.
Site-473 was under attack. Soldiers clad head to toe in ominous black tactical gear marched down hallways, carrying scary-looking rifles. Researchers and guards alike scrambled for the evacuation shelters. Klaxons wailed all across the facility. But despite all the alarms, screaming, and gunfire, only one thing was on Researcher Emily Moore's mind: "Where the fuck is Liz."
As it turned out, Liz was in dire straits. The soldiers marching around outside her lab had made it impossible to escape, or even to radio for help. She cursed her bad luck. Why had she chosen the lab right next to the front entrance? It might have been safer in a breach, but Site-473 only held low-risk anomalies, so outside forces getting in was far more likely than anything inside getting out. (more ranting at herself)
Suddenly, Liz realised it was entirely silent outside. The soldiers must have moved on. She pulled herself out from under her desk, and planned her next move. The obvious solution was to run for the front entrance, but that would mean potentially leaving Emily behind. Besides, there were probably more soldiers outside, and no news regarding a task force had arrived yet. A better plan would be to head further into the Site, and hole up in an evac shelter until help arrived.
Emily tore down hallways with all the grace of a border collie chasing a squirrel, and speed to match. Soldiers be damned, she was not about to leave a friend behind. She cared not for the corpses, bullet holes and sprays of bodily fluids that dotted the site, and was solely focused on one thing: finding Liz and getting her out.
Liz, on the other hand, was much more careful. She had walked past at least six bodies so far, and the threat of death was a powerful motivator. Any noise could draw the soldiers back to her position. If they found her, she would be full of bullets before she had time to think. Picking her way across a field of broken glass, she started to wonder who these soldiers were and what they wanted. Who would raid a low-risk containment facility in the middle of Norway? And unless there was something she wasn't cleared to know about, Liz couldn't think of a single high-risk or weaponizable skip on the Site.
(gets shot in leg)
The door swung open. A hand grabbed her collar, and threw her back into the corridor. Her body hit the ground with a sickening thump. A 7.62 millimetre round passed through her leg, and Lysandra Peterson blacked out.
When she came to, the soldiers were gone, and a significant amount of the blood that was supposed to be inside her was now on the floor. On top of that, her left leg felt like it had gone through a woodchipper. A crucial part of her brain decided it needed some time off, and she started to lose consciousness again, until she heard a very familiar voice.
"Liz!" Salvation had arrived.
"Liz!" Emily rounded the corner, only for her worst fears to be confirmed. Lysandra was lying in a pool of her own blood, her usually pristine lab coat stained a sickening crimson that almost hurt to witness.
"Emmy!" The knot in Emily's stomach subsided a little, only to be replaced with a whole new world of worry. "One of them got me in the leg. They left me for dead; I guess they figured I couldn't run afterwards."
"Holy shit." Emily tore off a strip of her own lab coat and began tying it around the wound. "Did you see who they were?"
"I don't know, probably GOC or Insurgency, maybe even Hand - ah!" Liz gasped at the pressure on her leg. "Either way, they have guns, and we don't. We need to get out."
Emily nodded wordlessly, then gave a final tug on her makeshift bandage before reaching out a hand. "Can you walk?"
Grasping at the proffered appendage, Liz pulled herself onto her feet. "I - I think so. But not very fast."
"Ok, ok, we might stand a chance at getting out of here alive." Emily hooked an arm around her friend's shoulders. "And by the way, we do have a gun. I grabbed one off a guard." She hesitated. "He… didn't need it any more."
Liz grimaced at the implication. "We should get moving."
Liz tried not to think about the searing pain in her leg, and instead just about survival. Shelter 6 was just around the corner. Just keep walking. One foot in front of -
"Hey, we found 'em!" A shout from behind. Rough and masculine. Liz knew without looking that the speaker wore the twisted grin of someone who only cared about blood. Her stomach dropped as she realised that they weren't getting out alive.
Suddenly, miraculously, she felt the grip around her shoulders tighten, and the world slow down around her. She watched in horrified fascination as Emily drew a gun from under her lab coat, brought it to bear, and squeezed off 3 shots at their assailants. All at once there was an arm under her legs, and her body was lifted off the ground in the arms of the only person she truly trusted. Between pain and adrenaline, things started to go hazy, but Liz definitely felt the shock of Emily's feet hitting the ground again and again as she ran for her life, and heard the sounds of a body hitting the floor and the horrible clatter of gunfire, and -
- and they were alive. Evacuation Shelter 6 was silent, save for the buzzing of a halogen lamp and the heavy breathing that often follows a brush with death. The two women lay on the floor, bodies still full of adrenaline and, mercifully, not lead. Emily sat up, swallowed, and prepared to say something she had been meaning to say for a long time.
"Liz -" she began.
"Emmy -" started Liz.
"I love you," they said in unison.
Item #: SCP-XXXX
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: Foundation webcrawlers are to search for any mention of ApiOS or Apiform Digital. Any occurrence of beehives being found in datacentres is to be investigated by Foundation agents.
A copy of SCP-XXXX is to be kept on a secure drive in Site-473. It must not be run on any internet-enabled computer at any time.
Description: SCP-XXXX is an operating system known as ApiOS. When installed on most computers, SCP-XXXX appears as a fairly unremarkable Linux distro, with UI design heavily focused around hexagons. However, when installed on a 19-inch rack computer, SCP-XXXX will cause drastic physical alterations to the device it is installed on. Over the course of around 2 months, the computer will be almost entirely replaced with a 19-inch beehive rack, known as an SCP-XXXX-1 instance. The few elements retained include back panel and connections, and the hard drive(s). This replacement is accompanied by the creation of numerous bees within the computer.
SCP-XXXX-1 instances require no external power supply, and appear to function entirely using the actions taken by the bees contained inside. The bees are entirely non-anomalous, and as such must be provided with an adequate food supply or they will expire, and the instance will cease to function. SCP-XXXX-1 instances retain all function possessed by the original computer, and are improved in some respects, such as not requiring an external power supply, and running calculations at approximately 600% speed.
Per 
