Per 
Gheorghe had always been with the Foundation and was always assigned easy jobs with little to no responsability. He wasn't inept, he was decently competent, but for some reason, the WQG test always gave him a low work queficient. With a low GQ, Gheorghe was always assigned jobs with meager responsibility - but he enjoyed it like that because he started developing a taste for being lazy.
The last gamma saturation test came a little high for Gheorghe so he was assigned "corridor patrol" in the old, rarely used and very gamma light "site 15". Site 15 houses SCPs that have been designated as being the most bening and banal. The site is sprawled over long corridors with doors that lead various rooms where the objects are contained. Corridor patrol, or "scare crow" as pejoratively called by others, meant walking around the site's corridors and, as the official job description says, "be alert", but in reality as long as you were there, you were doing your job.
Gheorghe quickly got used to the layout of site 15, and soon formed ritual of which corridor to patrol first and where to take a break. In one of the corners he used to take one of his 5 minute breaks, he noticed a white light shining from behind one of the doors. At first, he didn't give it too much thought, considering the things he's seen in his career at the Foundation, but after a while he found himself curious about what was going on.
He checks the papers and sees this is a safe-class SCP, he looks inside this room, number 8372, an action, permitted even for 0 level clearence, but which he rarely care to do. He sees inside the white light coming from a person sitting on a chair. In a corner, a gigantic anthill that was brimming with activity. The old man had a piece of fabric in his hand and he seemed to be weaving it, or modyfing it. With a needle he puts in place a new strand, with another he removes another strand and places it again, his actions seemed chaotic, but needless to say he's building something with intent in the fabric, which was sprawled on the floor.
An interesting sight for sure, but overall it's nothing too interesting compared to all the wide behavior Gheorghe has witnessed in his time. Gheorghe continues his walk on the solitary corridors and thinks new thought that keep him busy.
With the routine he's established, Gheorghe takes a break on the corner near room 8372, five times per shift; each time he sees that light coming from behind the door, the one particularity this room had. During his fifth break near the room, while cautiously getting ready to restart his walk, Gheorghe sees a small group of people leaving room 8372. They all have a blue sigma symbol on their coat, the sign of students. They have with them the the ants and the carpet woven by the old man. Gheorghe checks the traffic register and sees that they all have permission to be there. A highly unusual sight to see more than one or two people at once in those empty corridors and especially taking something out of the room, Gheorghe is intrigued, so he opens up a discussion.
"Won't the man be lonely without the ants?"
The students are preoccupied with their banter and don't bother to notice Gheorghe's remark. After all, he's just a scarecrow. Only one student turns to Gheorghe and replies.
"That's what we're trying to find out."
"You're studying him? I've been studying him myself yesterday, never seen that kind of color in these gray containment sites before."
"We're studying how him and the ants communicate, and if the light plays a role, that's why we're moving them out."
"I'll keep an eye on him then."
"Better just leave him be, so it doesn't interfere in any way with our study."
The students leave.
The following night, Gheorghe, once at the same corner, near room 8372, peaks inside and sees the same scene from the day before, the old man undulating and percolating and weaving a new carper, sprawled on the floor. Just no ants, and the white light, still there, shining. On the later part of his shift, he caught one of the students carrying with them the fabric the old man wove earlier, this time Gheorghe didn't say anything.
In the next days Gheorghe didn't bother checking room 8372 as other thoughts took priority, but he remembered the old man from time to time when he'd notice the light emitting from behind his door, or some student carrying a carpet outside.
One of the days, as Gheorghe entered site 15, instead of the dead quiet corridors he's welcomed by a flurry of activity, and not just any activity, there's all sorts of important people, even class A personnel, Gheorghe has never seen one in real life before, and now there are a few dozens of them. The bizarre scene made Gheorghe feel like he wasn't supposed to be there. Accustomed to being in the least consequential of places, he had to double check that he was indeed at site 15. There was no protocol to follow here for a scarecrow, so he tried as much as he could to do his job as usual, with the usual walks and breaks, as long as he's clearance permits.
Wanting to question someone about what was going on, and his clearance level was much too low to get any info from the system, he had trouble finding anyone he was comfortable asking. Until he saw the same student who he saw with the group days before, when they took the ants away. The student was agitated, and appeared to have an important role in what was happening. Gheorghe stopped near him and when he got the oportunity he asked
"Wh-what's going on here?"
"We're investigting room 8372, I mean, the old man."
"What's with the sudden interest? So many Class A.."
"Yeah, there've been some developments. And they will want to interview you too probably. Let me get you up to speed: you know those ants we moved away, and the fabrics he keep making? When he was first boarded as a SCP, a long time ago, they noticed that the patters he'd woven on the fabric would represent what happens to the ants. So for example, a blue strand was always one ant, adding one meant a new ant would be born and removing one would mean one ant would die. If he'd remove a bunch of blue strands, this would coincide with a bunch of ants dying of some disease that would hit the colony. Red strands usually mean conflicts of some sort, or gray strands meant collaboration. The light, the white light was always there, and it was just assumed it's what altered the behavior of the ants. They studied the old man to see what was going on, but they found nothing else. He would only influence the ants and nothing more. Telepathic communication was nothing new or interesting and the old man was studied less and less until they stopped for good, eventually only students needing an easy case study would stop by. That's what we were doing, we were taking notes of how the light influences this whole thing, trying to change the intensity of the light or the focus and see how it affects the ants or not. It was supposed to be an easy way to get credit. When you first saw us, we were just starting."
"You guys discovered something to do with him? That's why all the sudden interest? This is crazy."
"No no, listen. You read the dispatch about the Alpha Alpha phantom galaxy?"
"No, I don't get the dispatches."
"Well they found out Alpha Alpha doesn't exist. We ca see it, I mean, we receive light that looks like a galaxy, we named Alpha Alpha, but they found out what was emitting the light wasn't a real galaxy, but some other source that's been emitting light as if it were a galaxy."
"OK.."
"And, at closer inspection the frequency of the photons is evidently synthetic, light doesn't naturally emit that way anywhere else in space. They searched everywhere in the foundation's archives for anything that could offer some answers and they found only one other light that has the same frequency in the whole known universe. It's the white light coming from the old man. Essentially, we have a light beaming on us from the direction of Alpha Alpha that is the identical light that the old man emits."
"What, wait so we're like the"
"The ants, yes."
