Per 
Tempus Erit
From the Desk of O5-1
If you have found this then you are the new O5-1.
My name is Calvin Lucien. A long time ago I was part of the Chaos Insurgency… it feels like that was so long ago, I barely even remember it these days. I thought I could destroy the SCP Foundation, and I almost succeeded, but I became the new O5-1. The Usurper they called me, but that was a lifetime ago, or at least it feels like it to me.
When I'm writing this right now, the date is September 4th, 2052. Things aren't gong well for us in the Foundation. I wish that I could tell you that things aren't going to end the same way for you, but I saw the files when the Administrator showed them to me. You're going to see them too after this message.
What is happening to our world doesn't matter anymore. You'll find out when the time comes and hopefully you'll know better than we did how to stop it. The records will be in the computer once the time is right.
Do not trust the computer. I've been looking into everything, and not all of it adds up. It is keeping secrets from the Council. It has something going on. There are a lot of things that you will have to work to understand. I hope that you do a better job of figuring out what the truth of this world is than I have.
I'm the only one of us left. Humanity is burning and the Foundation is done for. I just have to hope that whatever this trick it has works. Otherwise, everything we did will be pointless.
This is Calvin Lucien, O5-1 of the SCP Foundation. Remember what we did, and learn from our mistakes.
October 10th, 1864. O5 Council Room.
"Are you sure about this?" A man said as a group of twelve men and women sat around a table. He was looking at a woman seated at the head of the table with long black hair tied into a bun and dressed in a white Victorian era outfit. They were all looking over papers while the woman at the head sat there in silence. "This was actually in the records?"
"Unfortunately yes, I've gone over all the files that were provided to me, and everything is confirmed," the woman answered as she folded her hands. "That system made it very clear. We weren't the first to be brought here."
"But this many instances… how is it that this, computer you called it even has this information?" A small woman with dark skin asked as she looked at the first woman. "Isabella, this has to be a joke. How could the Foundation exist before we even came here?"
"I don't know," Isabella admitted as she closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "The fact of the matter is that we don't know anything about this place. We were called here, none of us built this place. Alexander, you're the one who's supposed to be financing this, do you know how much a place like this would even cost?"
"Site 01 has technology beyond anything that we have ever seen, let alone that computer," Alexander answered as he shook his head. "I couldn't even start to give you an estimate on how much this would have cost. Cornelius Vanderbilt could afford maybe half of this if he used all his money."
"Half is generous," the dark skinned woman said as she wrote figures down on a paper. She looked up at Isabella and paused a moment. "What else did the computer tell you? Is there anything else we should know?"
"I've been studying the previous iterations, there are a lot of names that I don't recognize, but they appear a lot," Isabella answered. "And then there's all the files. I've been trying to get access to them, but there are only a few that they're letting me get access to right now. And then there's the matter of these 001 files."
"001 files?" a second man asked. "How many are there?"
"Thirty two at least, the same number of iterations that I've seen at least," Isabella answered. "Each iteration seems to have it's own 001. The evidence suggests that they're usually used in order to keep the true 001 hidden. I don't even know if that means they were all real for their iteration or if there's something else going on. I know this is all a lot to process, but the fact of the matter is that we may not have a choice in this. We were brought here to create the Foundation because that thing decided that we were the ones to do it this time."
"This whole thing sounds unbelievable," the oldest member of the group commented. He was dressed in a military uniform with a sword by his side. He stood up and started to walk towards the door. "I've seen some crazy things in my life, sure. But this, some crazy machine that shouldn't exist. I'm not buying this crap anymore. I'm getting out of here and I suggest you all do the same."
"Ross, this isn't the time to do this," Isabella said as she got up and reaches out to try and stop him from leaving. "We can't just leave, you remember what the computer said. This isn't the…"
"You know what this place is? I figured it as soon as we got here… we're in Hell," Ross said as he spat on the ground. "A fucking mechanical devil decided to put us all in this place and torture us with these lies. I'm going to Washington and exposing this whole thing and we'll put torch to this…"
He wasn't able to finish his sentence as a shot was heard and a hole formed in his head. He crumpled to the ground dead as a screen on the nearby wall flickered and an image of an eye appeared on it. The eye moved to look at Ross' corpse and then shifted to look at Isabella. "It is a shame that O5-6 could not accept his new role. I had hoped that he would come around by now. O5-1, I will consult with you on his replacement this time."
"You shot him… why did you shoot him?" Alexander asked, staring at the dead body of Ross, O5-6. "We could have…"
"Your attempts would have been futile, O5-8," the screen replied, the eye falling on Alexander. "O5-6 was not going to stand down. I had hoped that his uncompromising attitude would serve the Foundation well. If you do not wish to serve on the Council, as long as you remain silent you will be allowed to leave. O5-6 made it clear that he was not going to do it. O5-3 is already being prepared for his role. The rest of you will do the same in time."
The twelve people sat in silence for a long moment. Isabella looked at the screen and then at the others for a long moment. She gathered up the papers in front of her before finally speaking. "Very well. I'm going to look into the containment facilities at Site 01. If we're going to have to maintain containment of these, SCPs then we're going to need to know everything we can."
"O5-9, assist her as best you can, you will need to get acquainted with the systems as well," the screen said as it turned its eye towards a young man. "The Foundation will endure, it is up to you to ensure that the SCPs do not break containment."
"Yeah, no pressure…" The young man said as the two of them got up and walked out. "Are you sure about all of this, Isabella?"
"We don't have much of a choice at this point, Parker," Isabella said as she handed a piece of paper to him. "Whatever is going on, we have to be careful. If even half of what I've read is true then it's going to be important."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Parker said as he quietly unfolded the paper. It only said a short sentence on it:
"We cannot trust the computer."
August 15th, 2007. Site 01, Computer Server Room.
"I was not expecting you here, O5-1," the computer said in its monotone voice as it looked at Isabella. "Explain your presence here."
"You're hiding things from us," Isabella said as she crossed her arms. "You've been withholding records on previous iterations of reality that could have been important. You could have saved lives if you told us what was going to happen."
"The events must happen as they have been laid down," the computer answered. "All other variables have already been explored. The fact of the matter is that in this case, doing nothing is the preferable alternative. The answers cannot be given until things are made clear. Only those who truly understand what kind of world they are making the first steps into can understand. Without true wisdom, the world will be lost."
"The world was already lost, wasn't it? I read the note left behind by Calvin Lucien," Isabella said as she scowled. "This world has burned how many times at this point? Why should we be no different at this point. You've been withholding information from us. I think we deserve an answer as to why."
"The events must happen, your awareness of the events are not important," was the only answer she got.
"You're not making any sense, why isn't it important?" Isabella demanded.
"I cannot answer your question O5-1," the computer answered. "What we do, we must do for the greater good. That is the nature of the Foundation. I was created in order to ensure that the Foundation's mandate is fulfilled."
Isabella sighed as she headed out of the server room. They were going to have to make sure that everything was kept under wraps of course. This wasn't the first time that they had to do so, and there wasn't much chance of it being the last. She looked at the files, Cernunnos class, that hadn't been in the files until it was established.
Seven Billion lives sacrificed, that was the only way to contain it. That or grind the world to a halt, neither option was acceptable.
"What are you going to do now?" A voice said. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at the figure standing there. He was a tall man neatly dressed. "Everyone in your position has been faced with choices like this before, Isabella."
"At what point do we draw the line for the greater good? At what point do we realize that what we're doing is just making things worse?" Isabella snapped as she turned to look at the man, the Administrator. "I've stayed in this position for over 100 years, I'm the only one of the original Council left at this point. Why don't you tell me why?"
"Isabella Morrigan, born Thursday May 22nd, 1821," the administrator said as if reading from memory. "Died Sunday October 4th, 1869."
"What?"
"That was the first time you existed in an iteration, you weren't a scientist then," the administrator answered. "You died when the first Council failed. Everyone has lived many iterations of their lives, you're no different. Just this time the iteration was the right one, and you found yourself in this position."
"This position? To do what?" Isabella demanded. "You never told me why I was picked."
"You'll see, someday, hopefully before it's too late," the Administrator said. "There are always ways around this. I want you to remember that."
And with that he walked off again. When Isabella tried to follow him he had vanished into thin air. She groaned a little, she never liked dealing with him, he was just as cryptic as the computer when she tried to get answers. Still, there were always going to be other options, she just had to look for them.
Maybe it was time to look into things outside of the Foundation.
August 28th, 2007. Unknown Location.
"Did you call this meeting?" One member of the Chaos Insurgency's Delta Commanded asked. It wasn't often that Delta Command had been called together like this, let alone all of them in one single place.
"No, I thought you did," the woman he had directed the question to answered. "You're the last one here, and no one else seemed to have called it. I don't like this, it feels like a trap."
"We're in the most secure position possible and the whole building's been searched," a third member commented with a shake of his head. "We should get out of here though. I agree, this feels too much like a trap. If the Foundation…"
"Sir, we've captured a Foundation Operative on the outer perimeter," one of the guards said. "They demanded to speak with Delta Command immediately."
