Orcath

Pre-Mission Statement for ‘Operation: Wild Blue Yonder’

Item #: SCP-3002

Object Class: Terminated, hopefully

My name is Daniel Paige, member of MTF Mu-13 ("Ghostbusters"), designation Mu-13 Echo, and as far as I am aware, I may be the last Foundation personnel still capable of free thought and action left on Earth. This is hardly the most professional document I have written, but Lead isn’t around to bust my ass anymore for cutting corners.

Hopefully that will change soon enough.

I have sequestered myself in the lower levels of Site 17 with enough supplies to last several more days at the very least, yet I do not plan to wait out my remaining time and starve to death.

As of the time of writing, 2017-06-12 the entity known as SCP-3002 has effective control and domination of the collective human consciousness and has contaminated all known Foundation personnel aside from myself. I assume as much at the very least, considering the O5 council hasn’t blown us all to hell, reset the world, or done God knows what else we had access to.

I am not a researcher, a scientist, a site director, or even a task force leader.

I am a soldier, a fighter, someone that believes in the future of humanity and refuses to lay down and allow the concept of free will to be shoved into its grave.

The code of the Foundation has been a rule, set in stone, carved in iron, the very cornerstone of our organization.

Secure. Contain. Protect.

I choose to Destroy.

Her, as well as myself if it is necessary.

If my crackpot theory works out and what I am about to attempt proves successful, I will gladly take any punishment my superiors deem necessary. I expect no reward for my actions, assuming I survive, the fact that I will have the chance to take 3002 down to hell with me is enough of a reward as I could ever hope for.

From what Doctor Richards told me, may he rest in peace, 3002 is a memetic info-hazard that exists on a scale beyond what even the top eggheads ever thought possible. I’ll keep this quick because if you’re reading this, you probably already know damn well what she does, but we’ll go over things for the record.

SCP-3002 spreads herself through information, be it vocal, visual, auditory, etc. She exists as a concept, a sort of Super Meme, if you would. She is a hostile, malevolent entity that seems to desire the destruction of the Foundation and has all but successfully completed an MK-class total loss of human consciousness scenario.

As of the time of writing, this may very well be the only non-infected piece of information left on Earth.

I am going to kill SCP-3002, and I very well may die along with it, or this could do nothing at all. The details aren’t important, either this mission succeeds, and we win, or I fail, and either I die or join the rest of humanity in being a thrall to a girl with a God complex.

Better to die a soldier, than live a slave.

“Better to die a soldier than live a slave…” you repeat the last line back to yourself. That doesn’t sound too overly dramatic, does it? Probably, but hell, either you’ll be dead, a hero, or both by the time anyone reads this, if they ever do.

Leaning back in your chair away from the keyboard, you run a hand through your hair. It's probably out of regulation at this point, but Lead and Alpha aren’t around to chew you out for that.
No one is.

It’s hard to keep track of a night and day cycle down here, even your internal clock has been so damn jumbled that the only reason you can tell whether it’s AM or PM is thanks to your watch.

The basement levels of Site 17 are a depressing place, and with how deep you are, it’s no surprise this place has been abandoned for what has to have been decades, maybe more. At any rate, it’s enough out of the way to where She doesn’t know you’re here.

You hope.

It’s funny really, out of everyone in the entire Foundation, hell the entire world, and you’re the one that’s left? There’s nothing special about you, you aren’t a reality bender, an anomalous researcher, or an SCP with anti-memetic capabilities.

Taking a glance at your watch, you grimace at the time. Fishing around in your pocket for a moment leads to you producing a bottle of pills. A small shake and the rattling sounds confirm what your memory was already going to tell you. Clicking your tongue in annoyance you pop the top of the bottle and upturn it, letting the final two pills spill out onto your palm. It was a bit of a mindscrew when Doc had shoved them into your hand, telling you they were to 'see and remember.'

Kinda funny really, usually the Foundation is all about making people forget, but it makes sense that something like Mnestics would exist.

You're quick to knock the pills back into your throat, a swig of your canteen chasing the medication down into your gullet. A shudder escapes, just like always, those things are… interesting with how quick of an effect they have. As always it appears nothing changes at first, you've been on a regular dosage for a while now after all.

It's this latest kick that gives you the touch up you need to get the message. Closing your eyes and sighing, you give the drugs a few moments to begin altering your mind, before opening them once more to stare to the world again. Sure enough, the scrawled message appears on the wall as if on cue.

'OPERATION IS GO, COMMENCE'

A beautiful sight if there ever was one, it's enough to make you smile even as the little trickle of blood begins leaking from your nostril.