- READ ME!
- Wormhole*
- Object of Circumstance-
- Nihilanth-
- The Crucifix-
- The FleeceMaker*
- The Second-And-A-Half Dimension*
- Could You Imagine?-
- OR*
- IQ Entropy-
- Mogurian Aether-
- Old Ones' Lighthouse*
- The Anomalous Past and the Uncertain Future of Humanity
Any document with an asterisk is either worth reading or in development. and documents with a minus are old and / or not as good but have something (a concept or idea) worth keeping.
P.S. Let me know if you like / dislike / have advice about something. I'm always available for constructive criticism.
P.P.S. I'm not writing these expecting them to be accepted as actual SCPs. I'm doing it because it's fun and I enjoy writing them. :-)
Item #: 4446
Object Class:Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4446 is currently closed, in a reinforced 20m x 15m x 10m corridor, although the containment room's size does not matter as long as the containment area is larger than SCP-4446. SCP-4446-2 is to be held in a glass container in an adjacent containment cell, along with a strong flashlight and a magnifying glass. SCP-4446's chamber may be accessed by personnel level 3 and higher. Due to the particular convenience of the containment procedures and opening and closing process, SCP-4446 does not need to be monitored at all times. However, should SCP-4446 be opened without authorization, SCP-4446 Protocol 1 is to be initiated. (See Protocol 1.) If SCP-4446 is unable to be closed by use of Protocol 1, Protocol 2 should take place. (See Protocol 2.) If Protocol 1 and 2 fail, Site ██ is to be fully locked down, and MTF Epsilon-11 will be deployed at the Site. Transportation of SCP-4446 is to be done in a large armored foundation transport truck, bearing no windows in the cargo. Transportation of SCP-4446 is to be done only if SCP-4446-1 and SCP-4446-2 are confirmed to be separate.
Description: SCP-4446-1 is a large, conical pedestal bearing several layers of rings that culminate into a small socket at the apex. Various points on the rings of SCP-4446-1 bear scrawls of an unknown language that are yet to be translated. At the center of the socket fits SCP-4446-2, a symmetrical crystal of unknown composition and blue tincture. SCP-4446-2 possesses indeterminable strength and, when measured, appears to have no weight. The weightlessness effect of this crystal can also be felt when held. Upon exposure to focused light while held in SCP-4446-1, SCP-4446-2 will "ignite" and spark a fourth-dimensional bridge that leads to an unknown part of the universe. SCP-4446-2 is incredibly heat-absorbent, and will not increase in temperature, regardless of any energy thrown into it. The portal can be deactivated by simply removing SCP-4446-2 from SCP-4446-1. The visual appearance of the wormhole is that of an oblate oval, bordered by a vivid indigo stripe that gradually becomes a dark blue as it gets nearer to the center, before descending into a pitch black. The portal appears to always face the observer, similar to a two-dimensional decal in a videogame. SCP-4446's portal will transport any matter that enters it. The planet that it leads to has not been identified, either, simply designated SCP-4446-A. (Documented creatures in Addendum.) The creatures that emerge from SCP-4446 and that inhabit SCP-4446-A are completely different from that of Earth organisms. Creatures on SCP-4446-A are Silicon-based. Dissections have been performed on several of these creatures. These creatures also have no visible reproductive organs, and their origins are unknown. The prevailing hypothesis is that all fauna on SCP-4446 are "grown" from a single, giant, super-organism, potentially even the planet itself.
SCP-4446-A is a relatively small planet based off of the 0.82 G gravity the planet possesses. Dirt on SCP-4446-A is dark gray, and all organisms on SCP-4446-A are strongly periwinkle colored. Biomes on SCP-4446-A are not incredibly varied. SCP-4446-A's biomes are listed in the addendum. SCP-4446-A orbits a blue supergiant star at a distance 15 times that of Earth's semi-major axis. SCP-4446-A's day/night cycle is anomalously erratic, and varies between 9 hours and 55 hours. Additionally, SCP-4446-A possesses intense meteorological phenomena, including extreme thunderstorms that frequently emit dim, red lightning. The strongest hurricane observed on SCP-4446-A was several times larger than the largest ever recorded on Earth, but appeared to vanish at the border of the most prominent biome on SCP-4446-A, the wastes. No weather has been recorded in the wastes. This includes wind, rain, or even clouds. SCP-4446-B is the moon of SCP-4446-A, and as of yet appears to be non-anomalous. SCP-4446-B weighs about 5.6 x 1021 kg, and orbits at a distance of approximately 250,000 km.
Addendum:
List of observed species from SCP-4446:
| Designation | Height, Length (Adult) | Weight (Adult) | Threats | Brief Description |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| SCP-4446-Aa | 1.3 Meters, 4 Meters. | Between 400 and 650 lbs. | Carnivorous, aggressive. | Fauna reminiscent of a maneless lion with three jaws. The most common variation of SCP-4446-Aa is quadrupedal. However, the designation SCP-4446-Aa also includes 2 subspecies. One subspecies is mostly identical to the common variety, with the exception of having 2 additional legs. The other subspecies is larger, bulkier, and considerably more aggressive. This subspecies of SCP-4446-Aa is also a dimmer periwinkle than the other two. Natural lifespan hovers around 20 months. |
| SCP-4446-Ab | 5 cm, 3 Meters. | Between 2 and 3.6 lbs. | Possibly carnivorous. | Small fauna similar to a very long mink. Diet is undocumented, as SCP-4446-Ab have not yet been observed eating, however physical traits of SCP-4446-Ab specimens would suggest a carnivorous diet. Lifespan is most commonly around 5 months. |
| SCP-4446-Ac | 22 Meters, 8 Meters. | Between 2800 and 3400 lbs. | May inadvertently stomp on personnel. | Incredibly large fauna. Vaguely giraffe-like. SCP-4446-Ac has two sets of chelicerae and possesses a herbivorous diet. The physical traits of SCP-4446-Ac are incredibly confusing, as such a large creature possessing mandibles is unorthodox at best and lethally inefficient at worst. Moreover, SCP-4446-Ac specimens have been observed consuming only vegetation, further adding to the bewilderment of observation personnel. SCP-4446-Ac are not acutely aware of the environment in close proximity to them and will often trample upon smaller creatures. The lifespan of SCP-4446-Ac has not been recorded, as not a single specimen has been observed succumbing to natural decay. |
| SCP-4446-Ad | 3 µm, 2.8 µm. | 1.1 x 10-12 g. | Unknown. | Bacterial microorganism. Further study required. |
| SCP-4446-Ae | 1.5 Meters. | Between 200 and 300 lbs. | Primitive intellect may cause aggressive behavior to seemingly threatening entities. | Humanoid fauna with primitive technology. Research places their level of technology at roughly the Stone Age. Number of limbs can be as low as two and as many as 8. This has not been observed as a genetic deformity and is simply a genetic trait. It should be noted that lower limb counts is a recessive trait and is not often observed. Experiments concerning the extent of the intelligence of SCP-4446-Ae specimens are ongoing. |
| SCP-4446-Af | ~1.1-6 m from stem to cap | N/A | Unpredictable growth patterns may cause structural damage. | Flora that has a dull green stem and a pale, bulbous cap. Though visually similar to that of mushrooms, 4446-Af's life processes are appropriately plant-like. To date, no acquired specimen has had the same material density as another. Whether this is anomalous or natural is yet to be determined, but the density counts have exceeded that of periodic metals in some specimens, and less than air in others. |
| SCP-4446-Ag | 5 µm, 5 µm. | 2.6 x 10-11g. | Easily contracted. No effects are present thus far, though some may appear in the future. | Microorganism with astoundingly contagious and adaptive properties. Research classifies it as a virus, but only barely. 4446-Ag is roughly a dozen times larger than even the largest of viruses present on Earth. Additionally, 4446-Ag has several parts with unidentified function. Life process is poorly understood and current knowledge of internal processes are even poorer. Further study mandatory. |
| SCP-4446-Ah | ███.█ m, ██.█ m | █.█ x 10██g | [DATA EXPUNGED] | [DATA EXPUNGED] |
List of observed biomes on SCP-4446-A:
| Biome Title | Description |
|---|---|
| Grand Plains | Exceptionally large, grass-covered land with little to no major flora. Fauna are totally absent. |
| Bottomless Forests | Small areas of immeasurable depth, covered in impenetrable fog at the visual bottom. Trees of indeterminate length extrude from the fog, presumably growing from the bottom of the areas. |
| The Wastes | Gigantic areas of zero life, distinctly separate from other, adjacent biomes. This type of biome is the most prominent on SCP-4446-A. |
| Forests | Areas of land of varying size, inhabited by trees and large varieties of other lifeforms. |
| Beaches | Gigantic stretches of chemically true sand, leading into small oceans. |
| Oceans | Largest bodies of water, comparatively small to Earth's. No fauna inhabits the oceans, but the entire oceanbed consists of one titanic plant. Vines with spikes tipped with a paralytic toxin are placed sporadically across the ocean floor. The vines are conscious and will seek out anything that enters the oceans and pull it to and through the ocean floor. What occurs past this point is entirely unknown. |
| Mountains | The only major surface irregularities on the otherwise relatively flat planet of SCP-4446-A. These mountains are often shaped oddly and may appear to be too structurally unstable to stand, yet do nonetheless. |
<Exploration Log 1/22/██>
A team of 4 agents are sent into SCP-4446-A, equipped with flashlights, intermediate rifles, nutrient blocks, water, and 200 feet of paracord. Their goal is to reach the biome titled "The Wastes".
00:00 Agents Carson, Reynolds, and Dusty enter SCP-4446.
00:01 Agent Dusty leads the way into SCP-4446-A, greeted by a forest and a cacophony of screeching, howling, and shrieking created by local fauna.
00:12 The agents tread through the forest cautiously, avoiding an instance of SCP-4446-Aa.
00:25 The agents reach the border of the forest and a field, mark it, and continue into the plains.
No significant activity for one hour and thirty minutes.
01:48 The agents reach a hill, allowing them to look into the far distance.
01:49 Agent Reynolds points out an area of interest, where trees exponentially taller than those in the forest appear to be, along with a steep decline.
02:02 The agents encounter the border of the bottomless forest, mark it, and attempt to walk around the chasm.
02:51 The agents successfully evade the bottomless forest, encountering, at last, the wastes.
02:52 The agents take extreme caution and prepare extensively before entering the biome due to the observation that no weather, fauna, or flora exist here. Agent Carson elaborates that "There is no breeze, moisture, or grass."
03:10 The agents decide that they are adequately prepared and enter the biome. No immediate changes are observed.
03:40 Agent Carson complains of mild itching in his throat.
03:41 Agent Reynolds carefully removes agent Carson's helmet. No visual oddities are present.
03:43 Agent Dusty instructs agent Reynolds to carefully remove his helmet to observe any visual change. No visual oddities are present.
03:50 As a final check, agent Dusty instructs agent Carson to remove his helmet once again.
03:51 Agent Carson complies and removes his helmet, revealing him to be slowly disappearing. The region of his head spanning from his left ear to the leftmost of his parietal lobe are missing. His exposed organs and tissue are unaffected and his blood continues to flow to and from the missing region, suggesting that it is still there, but not visible.
03:53 Agent Dusty removes his left glove to find an absence of a left hand.
It should be noted that Agent Dusty continues to be capable of feeling and gripping objects with his right hand. The agents' exteroception and tangibility are unaffected in anomalously disappearing regions.
04:01 The agents reequip their gear and continue into the wastes.
No significant events occur for the next three hours.
07:23 SCP-4446-A's star begins to noticeably change in speed towards the horizon, to the agents' immediate detection.
07:25 The agents, unequipped for an overnight mission, head back towards the portal created by SCP-4446.
08:12 Agent Carson begins to describe periodic flashes of eerie creatures and plants across the biome.
08:14 Agent Carson's helmet is once again removed, revealing that the vanished zone has spread into his left eye.
09:10 Agent Carson complains of the flashes' occurrence appearing to increase in frequency.
09:15 The agents increase in pace in an attempt to outrun the spread of the vanishing zones.
10:30 The spread of agent Carson's "infection" has reached his right eye. Agent Carson is now capable of describing the entities in the flashes in detail.
10:59 The agents reach the edge of the wastes.
11:00 As the agents cross the border between the wastes and the plains, each agent complains of excruciating pain originating from where their missing pieces are located. Agent Carson collapses instantly to the ground.
11:03 The agents discover that the regions missing in the wastes are now intangible, meaning they are no longer present.
11:05 Immediately
13:55 The agents arrive at the return portal.
Item #: 3081
Object Class:Temere
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-3081 currently cannot be contained in any currently built facility, however designs are being researched for a specialty containment facility specifically for SCP-3081.
Description:SCP-3081 is a wooden chair. All attempts to incinerate it, much less destroy it, have thus far failed. When someone sits in SCP-3081, all brain functions cease and the subject falls unconscious. At this point, SCP-3081 triggers an event. This event changes in any possible way depending on an infinite number of variables in the surrounding area. This event generally has the same appearance, but there's always a change. This change is, once again, different in intensity depending on how different the area was from when it was active previously.
Addendum:
Somehow, all sentient lifeforms, including SCPs, feel a compelling urge to sit in SCP-3081. No explanation is clear at this time, but the intensity of this urge relies on distance from SCP-3081. Subjects exposed to SCP-3081 describe this sensation and the chair like a "Cognitive Black Hole." SCP-███,███,███ and ███ will try to break through all surfaces in attempt to sit in SCP-3081. Let it also be noted that if/when a sentient SCP does sit in the chair, the event will change monumentally. This event is also very clearly observed to be directly related to the power and/or abilities of the SCP in question.
SCP-3081 file 1-R
-Documented by Exec. Heidler
SCP-3081, a.k.a. // "The Wooden Chair, or Object of Circumstance" //is highly unpredictable and is an endangerment to this facility. For god's sake, we had to pry 035 off of the damn thing before the entire sector melted! This thing isn't like the rest. 343 can't give us anything on it, and the only god damn person who knows a sliver of truth about this thing is Bright. And I don't trust Bright. The look on his face… I've never, ever in my life seen PURE terror in that man until now. And I think I understand it. It's a godforsaken soddenly constructed wooden apocalypse on an invisible fuse. Who knows what will happen? It's presumably influenced by INFINITE factors so there is literally no way to identify what it will do before an experiment. My advise? Alright, how about this. I strongly advise that you sling this fucking thing with all your power and all your might into the next FUCKING UNIVERSE; better them than us, right?
SCP-3081 file 2-B
-Documented by Adv. Rinss
//I would like to reinforce Executive Heidler's advice to expire SCP-3081. It turns out that SCP-3081 may be a volatile cognitohazard on top of all the other hazards. One of our Legislative Staff turned SCP-3081 into a thermonuclear weapon and was found handcuffed to an oxygen pipe in a custodian closet after the event, despite direct evidence he'd been killed. He says, and I quote, "It's the girl in the chair, I swear it wasn't me! She took over me and copied me!"
Item #: 4110
Object Class:Keter
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4110 is contained, by request, in a carbon fiber hollowed cylindrical tube capped off at both ends. The containment chamber measures 6m3. No personnel are allowed in SCP-4110's chamber under any circumstance unless permission is given by on-site Administrators. A camera with an automatic text censoring system is to be monitoring SCP-4110's chamber. If anyone reads SCP-4110 without permission being granted, they are to be met with lethal force ASAP, lest SCP-4110-A materialize.
Description:SCP-4110 is a papyrus scroll measuring 8.3 x 11.7 inches. It is written in Aramaic, but after 4-20 seconds of looking at SCP-4110, the scroll will translate itself into the observer's native language. After it has been read or heard by a listener or observer, a creature similar to SCP-106 (Hereon SCP-4110-A) will materialize and one of two things will happen.
One: If only the observer sees the scroll and reads it, SCP-4110-A will debilitate the observer's eyes. The observer's skull will decay into black gunk with only the flesh and muscle remaining, essentially turning his or her head into a pelt.
Two: If the observer speaks what it says and someone hears and understands it, SCP-4110-A will follow the same procedure as Reference One, but will also shear the observer's larynx. The observer's skull and neck both decay in this scenario. Anyone who listened and comprehended (listeners) are hunted by SCP-4110-A for a typically very short period of time. Once they are found, SCP-4110-A will rend the listeners' ears and they will decay as well.
In either case, SCP-4110-A will then dematerialize.
SCP-4110-A appears to be a grotesque, slender humanoid with no signs of sentience. Only the instinct to kill. Sketches have been drawn by D-Class personnel. A chunk of SCP-4110-A's cranium is missing, exposing loosely intact brain matter.
Addendum:SCP-4110-A may have contacted a member of SCP personnel ██ years ago. What he said we assume could only be either spoken words of SCP-4110, or the text written on it. After his speech, the victim, Dr. ██████████, became brain dead. Presumably by SCP-4110.
So I've seen its face. The face… of a nightmare. It stalks me with its very being. With every step, a haunting from the trenches of hell. A voice like the sound of war. Breathing death. It chose me because I know. It will use me from the inside… Then tear my dreams apart in its gaze.
Item #: Under Debate/To Be Announced
Object Class: Under Debate
ADMISSION TO LEVEL 5 OR HIGHER ONLY
PLEASE CONFIRM ADMISSION
Pass:foundation
PASSWORD ACCEPTED
Special Containment Procedures:The entity informally known as the Crucifix is, as of August 20██, unable to be contained. It is highly unlikely that it will be in the near future, either.
DescriptionThe Crucifix is not contained and poses a phenomenal threat to all parties. any personnel who discover information about or the existence of the Crucifix must be terminated indiscriminate of status within the foundation, O5 Council exempt, hence why it does not have a designation. Secret investigations have been in operation since the 1970s with the sole purpose of determining what could be used against it. In other words, forty-eight years of research and efforts have led us to the conclusion of a few things.
One: It has a mostly wooden exterior and is presumably so throughout the entity.
Two: It is an immense cognitohazard. Perhaps donning the strongest neural link of all.
Three: It is shaped like a T.
Four: There are two crudely made holes each measuring roughly six millimeters in diameter on each "arm" of the entity.
Five: Around the holes mentioned and in several other spots are millennia-old blood splatters with no modern DNA match.
Six: It is about seven feet tall.
Seven: Powerful prophets and religious figures are determined that this specific entity will be the sole cause of the "End of the World" on the year 2500.
Eight: It cannot be contained.
Addendum:The Crucifix is mentioned in a document holobook found at a Foundation dig site in Antarctica, approximately 700 meters beneath the ice. The holobook is Foundation-made and has a manufacture date of June 19th, 2499. It contains 5 documents for The Crucifix, each designating it differently.
Document 1
Audio from a tape labeled: Revision of the Apollyon Class: 480-14
Administrator ██████████: Following the invention, creation, and successful stabilization of Element-132, several hither-to uncontainable SCPs have been contained and some even neutralized. Unfortunately, our new "God-Element" has proven noneffective to SCP-18880 (SCP-18880 is presumed to be the designation of the Crucifix, as no other future SCP entry surpasses this number, and the entry is dated one year before the prophesized "end of days." Also, the fact that it is listed in the SCP entry list foundation-wide is evidence to suggest the memetic effects of the Crucifix can be negated to at least a negligible scale.) O5 Command at Venusian Site 1 have deemed it necessary to revisit the Apollyon class of SCP, as some SCPs formerly classified as such have been neutralized or contained successfully. Apollyon class is still considered among the highest echelon of danger in the Foundation, however due to the minimized risk of many SCPs classed as Apollyon, the definition has been altered.
**Previous Definition: SCPs classed as Apollyon are intent on creating a cataclysm on scales varying between planetary to cosmic. The containment and subsequent termination of such entities is to be the Number One objective to the Foundation.
New Definition: SCPs classed as Apollyon are capable of causing a cataclysm on a superplanetary scale.1 The termination of such entities is to be the Number One objective to the Foundation.
Item #:4599
Object Class: Keter
Special Containment Procedures:Every four weeks, SCP-4599 needs to be transported to a different location outside of the facility at least ten kilometers away. Holding cells should meet the requirements of:
-Having no less than twenty-seven cubic meters of room.2
-Titanium lining every portion of the walls and ceiling.
-A single security guard armed with a supersonic-rated harpoon gun and head-to-toe AR500 steel body armor.
Description:SCP-4599 is a tall humanoid figure wearing various pelts and furs consisting of both known and unknown species. Individuals have described it's face as humanoid, with the exception of the eyes, which appear to be not unlike that of a reptilian creature. SCP-4599 has two sets of eyelids, one vertical set and one horizontal set. SCP-4599's pupils are horizontally flattened slits. SCP-4599 is a keen hunter, and extremely agile, boasting immense muscle mass, near-instantaneous reaction speed, possible night vision, a near complete immunity/tolerance to all anesthetics and narcotics, multi-kilometer audio acknowledgement radius and slightly larger smell radius, and a strictly carnivorous diet.
[Note: SCP-4599 seems to feel uncomfortable around fruits, vegetables and the like, along with an absolute refusal to eat them. It is possible that SCP-4599 is carnivorous because non-meats are toxic to it.]
It also possesses high potential intelligence and due to this can be frustrating to contain. SCP-4599 is intelligent enough to study the container it is held in, and is even able to discover exploitable design flaws in its cell. As described in the containment procedures, SCP-4599 needs to be removed from the site it's contained at and re contained at a separate site ten or more kilometers away, as doing so forces SCP-4599 to readjust to it's new environment despite the containment cells being visibly identical. SCP-4599, whenever it encounters another living, non-flora organism, seems determined to carefully skin the organism via the use of one extended, thin, and razor sharp nail on its right hand to create a centered, vertical slice down the entirety of the organism. The skin or pelt is then either deposited into a "pocket" beneath it's coverings or is used to assume the role of an already in-use pelt for coverings. At this time there is no reasonable explanation as to how SCP-4599 can fit skins larger than that of elephants into a "pocket" the size of a conventional knapsack. SCP-4599 could make use of some form of pocket dimension. SCP-4599 does require sustenance to remain alive, and will consume some organisms it skins, but will only do so on the brink of starvation.
Update: As described in event log ██/██/20██-4599, SCP-4599 is in fact mortal. The containment breach described in said document released SCP-4599 who is directly attributed to the death and flaying of 71 personnel. It is of note that SCP-4599 accomplished this impressive amount of damage within a span of less than half an hour. SCP-4599 is still recovering from two bullet wounds in its lower abdomen and thigh from 5.56x45mm API ammunition. The following attributes of SCP-4599 and its behavior that were discovered during this incident have been listed below.
- SCP-4599 possesses several pelts that are invulnerable to common infantry weapons; further tests required to ascertain the full strength of said pelts.
- It is probable and logical that SCP-4599 prefers pelts that have significant protective, or otherwise helpful, qualities.
- SCP-4599 has blood that acts similarly to that of generic Earth-bound fauna, but is deep black in color and more viscous. More interestingly, SCP-4599's blood has a minutely acidic rating on the PH scale.
Discovery:Multiple simultaneous reports were sent to the Foundation by civilians on ██/██/20██. Reports matched several earlier reports in description of a "Creature that god stitched together with whatever he could find."3 MTF Beta-4 "Castaways" were dispatched to a small town in the Siberian wilderness and arrived after a three-hour long trip. The creature was not at the location upon arrival, but it was a fair assumption to make that it had been, should one consider the nude and skinless cadavers strewn about the immediate area. It was decided that MTF Beta-4 were ill-equipped to deal with an anomaly such as this and were called back. They were successfully retrieved and replaced in the field with MTF Lambda-18 "Darwin Sentinels"4 to deal with the entity. Upon their arrival, the team separated into four groups to cover ground more quickly. After only six minutes, group three was attacked by SCP-4599, who had been hiding in a mound of snow. Luckily, only two casualties were attained from SCP-4599's attack and the entity was concussed with use of a ████████████.
Note:There were three calls in total. Two of them originated from the aforementioned Siberian town, but after the capture of SCP-4599, the third call was discovered and found to originate from ████████, Brazil. There is a chance that the designation 'SCP-4599' will end up encompassing multiple entities.
Addendum 1:Discussing the genome of SCP-4599 (Dr. Akei)
"The subject of SCP-4599's genome is among the most debated things in Site ██ at the moment. Understandably so. Like, is it a Mammal? Is it a Reptile? …Is it both? SCP-4599 displays properties that would place it in both categories, such as eyes like that of a lizard, but flesh and hair like an ape. EVERYONE is trying to find a probable solution, but I have a feeling it'll need a classification of its own. I have suggested Optimus Venandi. Translation is 'the best hunter'. I feel like it fits quite well."
Addendum 2:

Item #: 4040
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040 is contained in a simple, cubic steel room measuring roughly 10 x 9 x 10m with 7 cm thick walls. No special containment procedures appear to be necessary at this time, and SCP-4040 is currently only contained as a precaution.
Description:SCP-4040's appearance is akin to that of a blue-skinned, humanoid male of undetermined age. Most dimensions are correct in proportion to a non-anomalous human male, though SCP-4040 is atypically short at only 139.9 cm in height. SCP-4040 is currently under observation and appears to have no anomalous properties as of ██/██/██
Revision 1:SCP-4040 has been found to have anomalous properties.
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040 is contained in a pyramidal room consisting of four (4) faces. Each triangular surface's base measures seven (7) meters, giving each surface an area of twenty-four and a half (24.5) square meters. SCP-4040's cell is made of two (2) layers. The inner layer consists of exposed electric wiring that has a current flowing at all times. The outer layer is a relatively crude 5.1 cm thick steel shell that has been welded at all edges and vertices.
Description:SCP-4040's appearance is akin to that of a blue-skinned, humanoid male of undetermined age. Most dimensions are correct in proportion to a non-anomalous human male, though SCP-4040 is atypically short at only 162.9 cm in height. SCP-4040 gives off an incredibly small amount of radiation: A frequency of merely 6 dHz. Such a small amount of radiation is difficult to detect and was, in fact, discovered by accident. Research is ongoing.
Revision 2:SCP-4040's incredibly bizarre ability has been discovered.
Object Class:Euclid?
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040 is contained in a pyramidal room consisting of four (4) faces, equilateral. Each triangular surface's base measures seven (7) meters, giving each surface an area of twenty-four and a half (24.5) square meters. SCP-4040's cell is made of three (3) layers. The inner layer consists of exposed electric wiring (diameter 1.2 cm and separated 0.6 cm) that has a current flowing at all times. The second layer is eight (8) centimeters of rubber. The outer layer is a relatively crude 5.1 cm thick steel shell that has been welded at all edges and vertices. For the second and outer layers, as few gaps are to be present as possible.
Description:SCP-4040's appearance is akin to that of a blue-skinned, humanoid male of undetermined age. Most dimensions are correct in proportion to a non-anomalous human male, though SCP-4040 is atypically short at only 162.9 cm in height. SCP-4040 gives off an incredibly small amount of radiation: A frequency of merely 6 dHz. Such a small amount of radiation is difficult to detect and was, in fact, discovered by accident. This is however, not the extent of the anomalies within SCP-4040. SCP-4040 is capable of shifting into a form that has 0 width in either the X-axis or Z-axis, but so far SCP-4040 has not been observed to be capable of both simultaneously. It should also be noted that SCP-4040 cannot 'flatten' itself in the Y-axis. Scientifically, this is impossible as SCP-4040 appears to be erasing matter from existence. Since SCP-4040 has a null dimension in its 'shifted' form, it is able to pass through visibly solid surfaces, hence the use of electric arcs to deter it from escape attempts. It is unknown why SCP-4040 does not fall through the Earth whilst doing this, and research is ongoing.
Revision 3:SCP-4040's properties demand the application of a new procedure.
Object Class:Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040 is contained in a pyramidal room consisting of four (4) faces, equilateral. Each triangular surface's base measures seven (7) meters, giving each surface an area of twenty-four and a half (24.5) square meters. SCP-4040's cell is made of three (3) layers. The inner layer consists of exposed electric wiring (diameter 1.2 cm and separated 0.5 cm) that is arranged in a grid formation and has a current flowing at all times. The second layer is eight (8) centimeters of rubber. The outer layer is a nine (9) cm thick carbon fiber shell. For the second and outer layers, as few gaps are to be present as possible. The second layer is to be replaced every two months unconditionally.
Description:SCP-4040's appearance is akin to that of a deep purple-skinned, humanoid male approximately 9 years old. Most dimensions are correct in proportion to a non-anomalous human male, though SCP-4040 is atypically tall at 162.9 cm in height. SCP-4040 gives off an incredibly small amount of radiation: A frequency of merely 6 dHz. Such a small amount of radiation is difficult to detect and was, in fact, discovered by accident. This is however, not the extent of the anomalies within SCP-4040. SCP-4040 is capable of shifting into a form that has 0 width in either the X-axis or Z-axis, but so far SCP-4040 has not been observed to be capable of both simultaneously. It should also be noted that SCP-4040 cannot 'flatten' itself in the Y-axis. Scientifically, this is impossible as SCP-4040 appears to be erasing matter from existence. Since SCP-4040 has a null dimension in its 'shifted' form, it is able to pass through visibly solid surfaces, hence the use of electric arcs to deter it from escape attempts. It is unknown why SCP-4040 does not fall through the Earth whilst doing this. SCP-4040 has recently become increasingly aggressive and is now procuring escape attempts more frequently. Despite the apparent strength of SCP-4040 being slightly below average, SCP-4040 can create considerable amounts of damage to most surfaces. Methods of pacifying SCP-4040 are being developed. Research is ongoing.
Revision 4:Creation of Procedure 4040 has been achieved.
Object Class:Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040 is contained in a pyramidal room consisting of four (4) faces, equilateral. Each triangular surface's base measures seven (7) meters, giving each surface an area of twenty-four and a half (24.5) square meters. SCP-4040's chamber is made of three (3) layers. The inner layer consists of exposed electric wiring (diameter 1.2 cm and separated 0.5 cm) that is arranged in a grid formation and has a current flowing at all times. The second layer is eight (8) centimeters of rubber. The outer layer is a nine (9) cm thick carbon fiber shell. For the second and outer layers, as few gaps are to be present as possible. Two (2) gas lines are connected to the chamber on opposite walls. Also present is a gas filtration apparatus to return the ambient air to normal levels post-gas use. SCP-4040 must be subjected to Procedure 4040 (See addendum P4040) 1-2 times per day depending on SCP-4040's current attitude.
Description:SCP-4040's appearance is akin to that of a dark crimson-skinned, humanoid male approximately 9 years old. Most dimensions are correct in proportion to a non-anomalous human male, though SCP-4040 is atypically tall at 162.9 cm in height. SCP-4040 gives off an incredibly small amount of radiation: A frequency of merely 6 dHz. Such a small amount of radiation is difficult to detect and was, in fact, discovered by accident. This is however, not the extent of the anomalies within SCP-4040. SCP-4040 is capable of shifting into a form that has 0 width in either the X-axis or Z-axis, but so far SCP-4040 has not been observed to be capable of both simultaneously. It should also be noted that SCP-4040 cannot 'flatten' itself in the Y-axis. Scientifically, this is impossible as SCP-4040 appears to be erasing matter from existence. Since SCP-4040 has a null dimension in its 'shifted' form, it is able to pass through visibly solid surfaces, hence the use of electric arcs to deter it from escape attempts. Multiple theories have risen as to the reasoning behind SCP-4040's ability to not fall through the Earth whilst shifting. The most commonly accepted theory is that SCP-4040 creates magnetic fields with polarities opposite to the surface beneath itself that are just strong enough to counteract the force of gravity pulling it down, essentially enabling it to hover very slightly. Despite the apparent strength of SCP-4040 being slightly below average, SCP-4040 can create considerable amounts of damage to most surfaces. SCP-4040 is intermediately aggressive but can be pacified via Procedure 4040. Research is ongoing.
Addendum P4040:Procedure 4040 is the application of X6-3.7 Ar-1+H5 on SCP-4040 to disable its aggressive tendencies. Its creation was commissioned by site administrator Grant ██████████, who had previously directed several other effective containment methods for separate SCPs. The composition of X6-3.7 Ar-1+H is classified level 4 Bioscience or higher.
Revision 5:
SITE NINE, DAMAGE IMMINENT. MAGNITUDE: CATASTROPHIC FAILURE
TRANSMISSION
To everyone present in Site Nine, all measures that can be used to mitigate damage from SCP-4040 should be. If there are no more steel plates to reinforce with, use a table, a desk, an anything. Improvise. Your on-site nuclear warhead has critically malfunctioned and will no longer detonate. Those of you who are leaders, lead. But you all have to work together. There can be no weakest links among you. Make it an absolute certainty that SCP-4040 will never escape that facility. Then evacuate. My prayers to all of you.
O5-7
Item #:4040-1
Object Class:Keter
Special Containment Procedures:SCP-4040-1's exterior reinforcements must be replaced weekly. MTF Zeta-1 is stationed around the perimeter 24/7. Any and all Foundation personnel who arrive at SCP-4040-1 must first inform MTF Zeta-1 of their pending arrival with approval from an on-site administrator. Z-1 Alpha 1 will give the person or persons a phrase that has no correlation to the Foundation and has a minimal chance of being guessed. Upon reaching hearing distance, the person or persons must shout the aforementioned phrase. Z1 may ask for a repeat and if so, the person or persons must comply. Z1 will shine a green-tinted spotlight in the direction of the person or persons to signify acceptance of entry into Area 4040. A maximum of eight (8) units of Z1 are to accompany an exploration unit, only upon request. Full list of exploration requirements and documented explorations in addendum.
Description:SCP-4040-1 is the remnant of Site-9 in ████████, Alaska after Event 4040S9, ██/██/██. SCP-4040-1 is inhabited by SCP-4040. Thanks to the remote nature that Site 9 occupied, all efforts can be directed to the continued containment of SCP-4040 inside SCP-4040-1.
A sample of the structural faults now present in Site 9:
- Approximately 63.54% of interior walls and ceiling are charred and black.
- Sector F of Site 9 has been completely pulverized; there is no evidence that it was ever there in the first place.
- Site 9 is still (mostly) operational, but has defaulted to the evacuation configuration following the event, thus no reasonable methods of powering the Site back on are available.
A sample of anomalies now present in Site 9:
- Personnel seem to be unable to enter SCP-4040-1, even through an entrance that would place no physical constrictions on anyone. This has already been identified as a subconscious memetic effect and can be negated with simple tier 1 memetic deflectors.
- There are several portions of SCP-4040-1 that by all means should not be structurally stable enough to stay standing. Gravity seems to have no detrimental effect on the structure and thus far demolition can only be achieved by an outside force.
- SCP-4040 can occasionally be heard through the walls of SCP-4040-1, confirming that it is still present in the facility.
<Expedition Log 11/4/██>
MTF Zeta-1 are asked for three volunteers to explore SCP-4040-1 with full equipment and tier one memetic deflectors. Privates Willis and Jester along with D-66484 are volunteered. Primary goal of the group is to attempt to reach the site's private quarters.
Willis taps microphone
Willis: Testing, testing, one, two, three. This thing on?
Jester: Loud and clear, mate.
Willis: You think we should be bringing D-class?
Jester: The more meat shields the better.
Willis: They're still people.
Jester: Shitty ones. D-class is reserved for the worst of the worst. If they were innocent, we'd know it.
Loud microphone feedback from D-66484
Willis: JESUS-
Jester: FUCKIN'ELL, MATE YOU'RE LIABLE TO GIVE M'POOR HEART A POUNDING
D-66484: Whoops. I haven't the fuckiest clue as to how far away my mouth needs to be for these.
Willis: Just… Keep it there, will ye?
D-66484: Yes, dad.
Jester: Christ, maybe we should just kill 'em now.
Willis: Jester.
Jester: Right. M'bad.
Willis: Spez! Open 'er up!
Z1 opens the barricade leading to SCP-4040-1
D-66484: Ooohhhh hohohoho… That is a scary fuckin' thing.
Jester: Keep your shit in your body, will ya?
Group enters SCP-4040-1
D-66484: Okay, well do we at least know where we're going?
Willis: We still have an area layout for Site 9, but we don't know how much has changed.
D-66484: Wait… you mean to say that THIS-
D-66484 gestures at the interior of SCP-4040-1
-was Site 9?
Willis: They didn't brief you on much, did they?
D-66484: Not even a little. It was all pretty much, "just put this on and do what they tell you to." I didn't even know where we are until now. They brought me here with a sack on my head!
Willis: That's standard procedure for bringing lower class personnel into restricted areas.
D-66484: I know that, but I thought Site 9 was completely destroyed.
Willis: Only our MTF, the overseers, and a few higher ranking members know. Anything you heard people saying about Site 9 back at Site-
D-66484: 11.
Willis: -11, was more than likely just what the O5 want them to think.
D-66484: Shit… how do you know anything is actually what you think it is?
Willis: Well, we-
Jester: Would you two fuckin' mongrels quit babbling for half a second? I'm trying not to lead us into a nuke.
D-66484: The nuke didn't go off…?
Willis and Jester cough awkwardly and stay silent for a time
Jester: Here. This should be the private quarters.
Willis: Looks like.
Jester: Willis, this side. D, this side. I'll go up ahead and make sure we get our privacy.
Willis: Roger, Jester.
Willis and D-66484 begin to check rooms
D-66484: Hold up.
Willis: What? See something?
D-66484: YEAH. You could say that, I guess.
Willis enters Quarter 6 with D-66484
Willis: Holy fucking shit-dicks. We need to get Jester back here STAT.
JESTER!?
Jester does not respond
D-66484: I'ma try his radio real fast.
A soft static is the only audio from Jester's microphone
D-66484: Yo… I think he's gone, dude.
Willis: FUCK! ALREADY!?
Willis continues to shout expletives for approx. 2 minutes.
D-66484: Well I'm not gonna be next. Let's get the fuck out of here.
Willis appears idle
D-66484: WILLIS! LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! NOW!
Willis: Yeah. Fuck this place.
Willis and D-66484 reach the barricade
Willis: Knock knock, motherfuckers. Let us out.
Z1 opens the barricade
Z1-Bravo: Where is Jester?
Willis: Don't know… Presumed KIA.
Z1-Bravo: Shit.
Z1-Echo: That's one way to start an expedition. Fuck man, I liked Jester, too.
D-66484: Willis, tell them about what we found.
Willis: Right, we reached the private quarters. They're still mostly intact. But there's… in number 6 is…
Willis pauses
…just a smoldering heap of dead researchers and guards.
Entire group mumbles to themselves and each other, some gag
Z1-Delta: That's seriously fucked up, dude.
Willis: Damn right it is.
Z1-Alpha makes himself visible among the group
Z1-Alpha: I'm calling this in. Seven's going to want to know.
D-66484: Hold up, seven? As in, O5 command seven?
Z1-Alpha: She wanted to keep in contact with me for the duration of this expedition.
D-66484: Damn, dude. What kind of access do you guys have?
Willis: Alpha has level 5. Rest of us have level 4.
D-66484: I've suddenly become increasingly aware of my inferiority among this group.
Small chuckle from some
Z1-Alpha: Willis, you're leading the next expedition. You already know more than the rest of us.
Willis: If you say so, sir.
Note: Private Jester's whereabouts and by what method he was lost are both currently unknown.
<Expedition Log 11/9/██>
MTF Zeta-1 is directed to make visual contact with SCP-4040 within SCP-4040-1. Equipment changes only include a camera drone. Four more members of MTF Zeta-1 are requested resulting in the addition of Lieutenants Brian and McMann, Private Samson and Sergeant Chambers for a total of five squad members. Private Willis is assigned the role of Expedition Leader.
Willis: Mic check, everyone.
Brian, McMann, Samson and Chambers simultaneously: Check.
Willis: Prep for entry.
Chambers: Roger.
McMann and Samson enter SCP-4040-1 first
McMann: Clear for insertion.
Samson: Backing that.
Willis, Brian and Chambers enter SCP-4040-1 and the gate behind them closes
Willis: Lights on, guns up.
McMann: Comm's still working?
Brian: All clear.
Chambers: Willis, where'd you go last time?
Willis: We took the short route to the private quarters. What are your guys' thoughts on heaping piles of cadavers?
Nobody responds
Willis: Right, as I expected. We are not going there again.
Samson: Copy that… damn.
Chambers: Then the only other route to SCP-4040's containment cell is through the disinfection chamber.
Samson: Doesn't sound too awful.
Brian: Yeah, no biggie. Or it would be if not for the fact that the disinfection chamber is surrounded by clouds of gamma radiation.
Samson: Yeah actually, that makes sense.
McMann: Well, we aren't making progress stalling. We planning on moving soon?
Willis: This way.
The group follows Willis 120 meters to the disinfection chamber
Willis: Whats our solution to not getting cancer here?
Samson: Gas masks?
Brian: That wont do anything, you dolt.
Samson: I'm no connoisseur of radiation poisoning, man.
Willis: Don't be starting any arguments. We're already far enough from the extraction point for an ambush to occur.
McMann: What kind of gas is this?
Willis: What?
McMann: The gas. What's it made of?
Willis: Put that drone to use, Samson.
Samson: Roger.
Samson sends the drone into the cloud of gas to determine its composition
Samson: Uhh, well it's actually mostly just hydrogen.
Drone returns from the disinfection chamber
Willis: Great. So it's a cloud of radioactive hydrogen then. What now?
McMann: I have some incendiary rounds.
Brian: Ohhhhh, McMann, you have a beautiful mind, my friend.
Willis: Share with the class?
McMann: Hydrogen is flammable. Hella flammable. At least with the gas gone the radiation will be less concentrated.
Chambers: Great! So, the plan is to blow this sector a scorching new asshole?
Willis: Got a better idea?
McMann loads a magazine of incendiary ammunition into his firearm
McMann: On your ready, Willis.
Willis: EVERYONE BACK UP! Take aim McMann. FIRE.
McMann fires two rounds into the cloud to great effect
Deafening, bass-heavy rumbling is heard through all comms
Willis coughs once
Willis: Are the walls compromised?
Brian coughs twice
Brian: No… surprisingly. Guess we underestimated foundation architecture, huh.
Willis: Everyone, comm check.
McMann, Samson, Brian, and Chambers: Check.
Willis: Come on. We're going through the dis-… well, what's left of the disinfection chamber.
No conversing recorded for 15 minutes
Samson: How much farther to the containment area?
Willis: We should be… roughly 100 meters away.
Item #:5001
Object Class:Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:All instances of SCP-5001-1 are to be individually contained in a vacuum-sealed petri dish with an amber internal layer and a graphene external layer. Non-unique instances of SCP-5001-1 are expendable and are encouraged to be disposed of quickly after containment. Testing with instances of SCP-5001-1 is ill-advised, however experiments may be run by researches qualifying in Level 3 Neuroscience and Level 2 Bioscience or higher. Experiments with SCP-5001-1 are to be conducted in the immediate vicinity of an operating table or are to be conducted with one readily available. Should an instance of SCP-5001-1 escape containment, it is to be terminated, preferably before it attaches itself to a member of site personnel. Any information regarding the whereabouts, role or properties of SCP-5001 must be immediately conveyed to the highest ranking agent reachable to whomever discovers said information.
Description:SCP-5001-1 is a worm-like parasite of remarkable composition. Each specimen is exactly 2.87 cm in length, 0.65 cm in width, and 0.58 cm in height. SCP-5001-1 does not seem to age in any way and is virtually immune to nearly all forms of natural death. SCP-5001-1 is not, however, very resistant to external force and can be killed easily. Even very little damage to the "brain" of SCP-5001-1 is lethal and no postmortem reflexes are observed. Upon targeting an organism, choosing seemingly based off of proximity alone, instances of SCP-5001-1 will attempt to jump onto the temple of the organism and burrow into the cranial cavity. Over the course of between 20 minutes and 1 hour, SCP-5001-1 will assimilate itself with the organism's occipital and temporal lobes. During this process, and increasingly so at the end of it, an organism infected with SCP-5001-1 appears to periodically observe SCP-5001 in plain sight, although no physical description can seemingly be acquired from the victim due to the intense fear the victim experiences at all times during this process. At the end of this process, the infected organism seems to maintain visual contact in close proximity with SCP-5001 at an unidentified location. An indeterminate time after the process has achieved success, the victimized organism's brain appears to vanish, save the infected occipital and temporal lobes that then birth several new instances of SCP-5001-1.
Little is known about SCP-5001. The currently accepted theory is that all instances of SCP-5001-1 are connected to SCP-5001 in a way that isn't unlike that of a hive mind. While SCP-5001-1 appears to have a free will and natural objective to "feed" and reproduce, every action taken by SCP-5001-1 seems to in some way benefit SCP-5001.
<Transcript Log 1/20/19>
Dr. Domico: Yes… yea- okay I finally got the recorder thing on.
Dr. Pam: Oh, you did? Nice, let's do this.
Dr. Domico: Yessir. ahem This is a recording of the debate over new data on SCP five-thousand one. Uh, between doctors Domico and Pam.
Dr. Pam: Right. So we've noticed that in each of our experiments where we let the worms run their course, that the brains of the victims just up and vanish, right?
Dr. Domico: Quite disheartening, but yes, why?
Dr. Pam: Well things don't just vanish. Laws of thermodynamics. I did a little digging into the x-ray footage we have on the most recent subject and I think I've figured out why they seem to disappear.
Dr. Domico: Dude… we checked the footage already.
Dr. Pam: Not in slow-mo, we didn't. Look at this.
Dr. Pam audibly presses a button to play the slowed-down footage on the monitor
Dr. Domico: Wait, so it is what we originally thought?
Dr. Pam: Yeah, before we realized that it looked like it just vanishes.
Dr. Domico: What's the time frame for this clip?
Dr. Pam: Four microseconds.
Dr. Domico: Well no wonder we couldn't see it. It was moving at, what…
Dr. Domico is briefly heard punching numbers into a calculator.
…one point three percent the speed of light?
Dr. Pam: Yes.
Dr. Domico: So can we treat it?
Dr. Pam: Well I sure hope so, care to find out?
Dr. Domico: Yes please. Where do we start?
Dr. Pam: Well, first off, we know it has properties akin to a parasite, albeit a very large one. We should try to exploit that first.
Dr. Domico: Right, so on the subject of parasites, what treatment is used to remove them? Surgery, maybe?
Dr. Pam: Worth a shot, I'd say.
Item #:7480
Object Class:Thaumiel
Special Containment Procedures:While SCP-7480 isn't directly harmful, it could be easily used to cause devastating harm. To this end, SCP-7480 is contained at the headquarters of MTF Phi-56
Description:SCP-7480 is a bulky, paracausal device, resembling a helmeted virtual reality headset. The only markings on the helmet consist of "O.R. - Orchestrated Reality" in large, white, military-style font. Upon being worn, no immediate anomalous physical effects are present, however wearing it for long periods of time can be detrimental to one's neck due to the sizable weight (25.08 kg) of SCP-7480. SCP-7480 activates automatically when active brainwaves are present in it's interior. SCP-7480 can not only detect brainwaves, but can also read them. After being placed on one's head, SCP-7480's Heads Up Display will activate, displaying the world with a heavy green overlay. Shortly after, a line of white text will appear at the top of the HUD reading, "HELLO, (The wearer's name. Formatted Firstname Middle Initial(s) Lastname.) The text will then disappear, followed by a number of other Heads-Up modules appearing around the user's field of vision. These include several miscellaneous modules including, but not limited to:
- User's heart rate in BPM
- The current time (military format), adjusting with time zone, though for no apparent reason is off by about two and a half minutes
- The date in two formats: Standard Gregorian Calendar format, and the Absolute Year (years since the big bang presumably)
- A magnetic compass
- A toggle-able "minimap" that can adjust to 20, 100, 500, 1000, 2000, 5000, and 10,000 square meters. This minimap displays anything considered alive as blips. It is unknown how SCP-7480 defines something as "alive"
The primary function of SCP-7480, however, is to alter the outcome of significant events. When the wearer deems an event they just experienced as significant, the helmet appears to "freeze" time around the wearer by generating a temporal absence bubble around itself and the wearer. While the wearer is capable of moving inside the bubble, the helmet will advise the wearer to not exit it by displaying "For your own safety, keep all appendages inside the bubble whilst scripting". Several seconds after the bubble is fully generated, a prompt will appear asking the wearer "Do you want to change your fate?" and two options, simply "YES!" or "No". Selecting "No" will close the prompt and dematerialize the bubble, returning the wearer to the standard rules of time. Selecting "YES!" will disable the prompt and display four options, stacked atop one another. The top and both center options are prewritten, each an outcome the headset "thinks" would appeal to the user. The fourth, bottom option is labeled "Other". Selecting any of the first three will, as expected, rewind time to femtoseconds prior to the event, and the event will play out as selected. Selecting "Other" opens a form of "mental keypad", where the wearer can generate their own outcome at the expense of using extra power, proportional to the complexity of the written selection, from the helmet's limited, albeit exceptionally large, battery. It will detect when the wearer is content with their selection and play it out in the same way as either of the other options. If there is not enough power remaining to preform an action, it will display "CHARGE", before setting itself back to the normal temporal stream and putting itself in standby.
It is interesting to note that, one, the wearer will not age, dehydrate, starve, or otherwise naturally decay while inside the bubble, and two, the device is vincible and can be disassembled with proper equipment. This also creates a worrying scenario where the device is damaged and corrupts, since the extent to which SCP-5800 interacts with time flow and causality is unknown. If the aforementioned effect of SCP-7480 on time and fate is great enough, damage dealt to SCP-7480 may also be dealt to time or causality itself.
Note from Dr. Spencers: For those asking what "damage to time and/or causality" entails, think of it like this: Imagine that time is a treadmill. It can move back or forth, though we only directly observe it going forward. If SCP-7480 has a direct line to the time treadmill, say that it's a terminal attached to the treadmill, and becomes dysfunctional, the treadmill will no longer move, or maybe move erratically. As for causality, depending on which model you believe in, this could do one of two things. In the "set in stone" model, this would create infinite variance to fate, where every occurance occurs untethered to any other occurance, creating inconceivable, primal chaos. In the "true choice" model, the effect would be less noticeable, but time travel would no longer be possible, along with interaction with any other reality, dimension, or universe. This is because causality would be constricted, allowing no more than one sequence of events to pass for the duration of the universe. Short answer: just don't touch the goddamn helmet.
SCP-7480's battery capacity is estimated at approximately six (6) quintillion joules. While this may seem impressive, this is in fact nearly the bare minimum necessary for SCP-7480's functionality. SCP-7480 requires an absurd amount of energy to function, just shy of twelve quadrillion (1.199169832 x 1016) Joules per second of time altered, as can be found using this equation:
E(J) = 1000000((2c2)t)
Where c is the speed of light (299,792,458 meters/s), and t is the amount of time in seconds.
Item #:6016
Object Class:Euclid
Special Containment Procedures:All documented knowledge of SCP-6016 is to be contained within Anomalous Collections Archives 6016 A-M in Site-██. No personnel are to be granted access to the archive with the intention of learning about SCP-6016. Testing with SCP-6016 is forbidden following Incident ██-60-04/██/20██.
Description:SCP-6016 is a memetic and cybermemetic entity that exists only within documentation and thoughts pertaining to it. SCP-6016 has no physical form, but those afflicted with the anomalous properties of SCP-6016 give off anomalous SCP-6016-A radiation waves. Anything capable of registering information about SCP-6016 as such, including machines, is susceptible to SCP-6016's anomalous properties.
When an entity registers information as that of SCP-6016, the intellectual capacity of said entity will begin to dramatically decrease, until the victim is rendered a vegetable. Shortly after the lowest possible intellectual capacity of the entity is reached, the entity's brain or brain equivalent permanently ceases all functions. The speed of this decline is inversely proportional to the base intelligence of the entity, where an entity with low intelligence will become braindead faster than one with high intelligence. Machines afflicted with the effects of SCP-6016 will display similar symptoms to biological entities. Smartphones and other computers will begin to drastically slow down and use more processing power, until the machine overloads and "dies". In the case of computers, information stored is entirely wiped clean, and no more and no less than exactly nothing is recoverable. Machines' external functions will also be affected. (see Addendum 6016-1)
SCP-6016-A is a form of anomalous radiation produced solely by SCP-6016 victims. SCP-6016-A's structure is unable to be observed and always appears as a random sequence of frequencies. Exposure to SCP-6016-A gradually injects knowledge of SCP-6016 into the memory of the afflicted, thus "spreading" SCP-6016 like a disease. Amnestics are a consistent way to neutralize the effects of SCP-6016.
Addendum
Experiment Log 6016-1:
A Foundation standard, cafeteria-grade microwave was fitted with an artificial intelligence and tested to ensure it functioned as normal.
00:00: Dr. Colmer places three strips of smoked bacon atop a glass plate and places it into the microwave, setting it to cook for two minutes and thirty seconds on a power of ten.
02:30: Dr. Colmer removes the bacon from the microwave and deems the microwave fit for use as he ingests the bacon.
03:00: The microwave is fed information about SCP-6016.
13:00: A second plate of three smoked bacon strips is inserted into the microwave, and is set to cook for two minutes and thirty seconds on a power of ten.
15:30: Dr. Colmer enters the room equipped with a hazmat suit and removes the bacon from the microwave, finding it very slightly overcooked, but not unreasonably so.
30:00: A third plate of three smoked bacon strips is inserted into the microwave, and is set to cook for two minutes and thirty seconds on a power of ten.
30:20: An immediate audible change occurs, as the frequency of popping increases in volume and frequency by a factor of ten.
30:35: Dr. Colmer enters again equipped with a hazmat suit and removes the bacon from the microwave, finding it to be little more than a humble helping of char.
60:35: As a fourth plate is being prepared for the microwave, it sparks violently and explodes, resulting in the severe maiming of Dr. Colmer.
Conclusion: Machines are as susceptible to SCP-6016 as any organism. Further testing is wasteful and ill-advised.
END LOG
unfathomable
inconsequential
you are born
just to die
the chosen to mourn
the chosen to cry
from moguria's eyes
irresistible
the ancient pools
silent water
stiller yet
the yells, the blind
unfathomable
insufferable
foundation of bells
foundation of lies
keep your breath
you wont have it for long
prepare the gates
the flood begins
at millennium's end
- Message received by an unknown, outside source, c. 1965
Item #:5815
Object Class:Safe

Special Containment Procedures:SCP-5815 does not appear to move itself outside of a defined 60 km area. In that aspect, it is self-contained. However, a 100 km radius exclusionary zone has been constructed to prevent non-foundation personnel from entering the operational zone of SCP-5815.
Description:SCP-5815 is the designation given to a small island, approximately 540 kilometers east of the coast of █████, atop which sits a large lighthouse, designated SCP-5815-1. SCP-5815-1 is not constructed of any man-made materials. In fact, SCP-5815-1 appears to have not been constructed at all, but rather is a natural formation on SCP-5815—indicated by the similarity in composition of the bricks that make up SCP-5815-1 and the stone present in SCP-5815, along with the gradual transition of stone brick into smooth stone. SCP-5815 possesses a gravel path leading to a door on SCP-5815-1, however this door is normally inaccessible. SCP-5815-1's beacon is not lit by default.
The island is perpetually trapped within a powerful, vortical storm. The storm does not affect weather at all outside of its immediate vicinity, but the winds within are significantly more violent than normal storms (average wind speed of 135 mph). The island is also bound to the storm, and wherever the storm travels, the island will always be present at the center. SCP-5815-1 appears to be roughly 350 feet (106.68 meters) tall from ground level, though SCP-5815-1's true height is difficult to measure, if a legitimate endpoint of SCP-5815-1 even actually exists. When attempting to ascend the walls of SCP-5815-1, SCP-5815-1 appears to continually extend its height, relative to the person's distance from the beacon.
Upon ascending ~1500-1600 feet, the island ground underneath the climber will appear to rapidly rise up to meet the climber's feet, though this is not what actually occurs. From an outside perspective, the climber will appear to slow down the farther up they climb, similar in effect to the event horizon of a black hole. It has been verified that when this occurs, the climber enters a parallel universe. This initial alternate universe version of SCP-5815 is visually identical to the version that exists in our universe. The three key functional differences of SCP-5815 in the alternate universe is that the gravel path leading to the door now glows faintly along with the door, and the beacon is now lit and aims itself in random directions, reorienting itself to face elsewhere for reasons not yet known. Additionally, the storm present around the island is no longer an obstacle, but a barrier. In this "transition dimension", the wind speeds of the storm are comparable to those present on Neptune, measuring 1,700 miles per hour or higher. The path and door now act as a means of returning to our original universe. Starting from the beginning of the path and following it all the way to the door will cause it to open into a bright, white light. Note that the door opens both in the alternate universe and in ours. Walking through the door causes one to reappear in the door in our universe, allowing them to simply walk back should they so choose.
The process of ascending SCP-5815-1 can be repeated endlessly, each leading to a different universe. After reaching the initial alternate universe, designated SCP-5815-1-Alpha, each successive universe is randomly chosen from the infinite number of universes and dimensions that exist somehow chosen based off of the direction, intensity, and field of view of the beacon. Documented expeditions in addendum. It has also been confirmed that SCP-5815-1 is capable of accessing personalized dimensions of other SCPs.
After considerable experimentation, SCP-5815-1 is capable of being "programmed", and destinations can be chosen via manually altering the beacon. However, changing the beacon is an arduous task, as all actions must be done while on ground level.
Addendum
<Test Log 9/01/20██>
Preface: One D-Class of physical proficiency, D-9969, was instructed to ascend SCP-5815-1. Equipment included: 1 hiking backpack including several protein bars, water bottles, paracord, a survival knife, and a lighter. Also included is a copy of the "Explorers guide to the Universe vol.2: Dimensions"7, for use in identifying the destination if possible.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 35 minutes, reaching a height of ~1505 feet before disappearing.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 a second time, for 38 minutes, reaching a height of ~1531 feet before being transported.
D-9969 steps off of SCP-5815-1 and opens the manual provided and attempts to identify his destination. D-9969 flips through the book for ~45 minutes before concluding that the dimension was not identified within the book.
D-9969 is instructed to explore the dimension, which consisted of a bright green landscape, not green with grass, but with a hard, plastic-like material. Green fog obscured the horizon, and the sky was a bright, light blue with no clouds or sun to be seen.
D-9969 explores the dimension for ~2 hours before encountering a colossal, cognitohazardous entity that appeared to be placing "tiles" onto the incomplete ground. The entity slowly turned to face D-9969.
D-9969, stricken with fear, swiftly ran back to SCP-5815-1 and ran through the door, back into our dimension.
<Test Log 9/03/20██>
Preface: D-9969 is reintroduced to SCP-5815-1, entering with identical equipment as the previous test.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 36 minutes, reaching a height of ~1598 feet before disappearing.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 40 minutes, reaching a height of ~1550 feet before being transported.
D-9969 shows immediate concern about his immediate whereabouts due to the lack of light. Command instructs D-9969 to use his lighter.
D-9969 flicks his lighter open and attempts to ignite it, to no avail.
D-9969 reports "there is an absence of everything here, even absence. Even me, I feel emptier just by being here. I want to leave now." Request granted.
<Test Log 9/04/20██>
Preface: D-9969 is once again directed to SCP-5815-1, with incentive of a week of access to the site's staff cafeteria, should he perform the task successfully. Equipment changes include a Kant counter, an Orion flare gun, and a pack of 12-gauge flares.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 31 minutes, commenting proudly that, "this is my best time yet!". He reaches ~1530 feet before disappearing.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 33 minutes, reaching a height of ~1561 feet before being transported.
D-9969 enters a dimension of writhing, tumultuous, non-euclidean geometry. The ground stabilizes as he walks towards it. He spends about five minutes paging through his guide before coming to the conclusion that he has entered a dimension listed in the book as "Antrogoa Demindar", a place originally discovered by Ortothan travelers.
D-9969 spends 3 hours walking in a straight line through the fields of raw, unfiltered geometric anomalies. The colors, D-9969 remarks, are "Impossibly beautiful, and also migraine-inducing."
After 5 hours of travel with no further interactions worth commenting about, command requests that D-9969 return to SCP-5815-1. D-9969 complies.
D-9969 is currently enjoying a week of the site's best cooking, and serves as a good example to other D-class.
<Test Log 9/06/20██>
Preface: D-4550 is selected as the temporary replacement for D-9969, and is similarly physically capable. Equipment has not changed since the last test.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 42 minutes, reaching a height of ~1570 feet before disappearing.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 44 minutes, reaching a height of ~1522 feet before being transported.
D-4550 steps off of SCP-5815 and encounters a thick, orange, gooey substance, which D-4550 claims "smells awfully like ████████. D-4550 is instructed to return.
Note from Dr. Shaha: Yeah… no. The fact that this place even exists is just outright not okay.
<Test Log 9/07/20██>
Preface: D-4550 is instructed to climb SCP-5815-1 as many times as he can. He has been equipped with extra climbing gear to accomplish this task to the best extent.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 39 minutes, reaching a height of ~1600 feet before disappearing.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the second time, for 40 minutes, reaching a height of ~1564 feet before being transported.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the third time, for 40 minutes, reaching a height of ~1611 feet before being transported.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the fourth time, for 45 minutes, reaching a height of ~1675 feet before being transported.
Note: It's fairly clear at this point that the average height one needs to climb to continue into the next dimension in a sequence increases the more times one has climbed it in the sequence.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the fifth time, for 71 minutes, reaching a height of ~2212 feet before being transported. D-4550 complains of a mild headache.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the sixth time, for about 2 hours, reaching a height of ~4100 feet before being transported. D-4550 complains that "something is watching him," and that his headache has increased in intensity slightly. He also notes that the beacon appears to be slightly cracked.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the seventh time, for about 3 and a half hours, reaching a height of ~6800 feet before being transported. He remarks that he is, "definitely being watched, and closely." He complains that his headache has become almost unbearable. Additionally, the beacon's light has become dimmer, and the beacon is cracked slightly more. He is instructed to take a break if he needs to for his headache to go away.
D-4550 takes a snack and drink break for 36 minutes, reading the manual in the meantime.
D-4550 remarks, "I don't think they can see me now." and that his headache has lightened slightly.
D-4550 is instructed to continue climbing SCP-5815-1. D-4550 complies.
D-4550 ascends SCP-5815-1 for the eighth time, for about 6 hours, reaching a height of ~13000 feet before being transported. D-4550 is struggling to remain conscious, and remarks that "The eyes are real, and if I keep going, they may see through me."
D-4550 attempts to ascend SCP-5815-1 for a ninth time, however he is not transported after climbing for over 12 hours. At this point, D-4550 is incapable of speech, and visible interference has manifested on both the audio and video feeds. D-4550 is instructed to return, however he does not comply or even acknowledge the command.
The conditions of the audio and video feeds continue to worsen over the next 12 hours. D-4550 continues to ignore all interaction from command.
After 60 hours of climbing and nigh-unintelligible output from the audio and video feeds, D-4550 is considered lost.
Note from Dr. Shaha: It's still under debate, the results of exploration 90720██/5815-1. Everything from mind-wiping cognitohazards to straight up mind control have been considered. No definitive conclusion has been reached. We will need more data to ascertain what really happened here.
<Test Log 9/09/20██>
Preface: D-7354 is selected as the newest temporary replacement for D-9969. Aside from a new set of the previously provisioned supplies minus the climbing equipment, no new supplies are granted for the expedition. Additionally, methods of manually altering the beacon have been discovered. Destination lies at due East, at 15° from horizon, FOV of 5°, at 50% intensity.
D-7354 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 38 minutes, reaching a height of ~1544 feet before disappearing.
D-7354 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 34 minutes, reaching a height of ~1502 feet before being transported.
D-7354 enters startled, into a dimension listed in the guide as the "Ink Bath", discovered by the esteemed author of the book, Sir Archibald Waltz III of Kalagoria. The dimension consists of a gray fluidic substance, formed into large spikes surrounding D-7354. The spikes follow him at a distance as he traverses the plane.
D-7354 quickly notices a large structure in the distance, appearing to be an extremely oversized tree. D-7354 is instructed to make his way toward the structure.
D-7354 admits that he feels unsettled by the dimension but can't elaborate as to why.
D-7354 reaches the structure, noting that the entrance is inaccessible due to the height.
As D-7354 paces around the structure, each step is met by a pillar rising out of the ground.
D-7354 walks his way to the entrance of the structure.
D-7354 enters the structure, decorated with ███████████████, and a throne in the center. Atop the throne sits ███████████.
[DATA EXPUNGED]
<Test Log 9/10/20██>
Preface: D-7354 is sent back to SCP-5815. The configuration of SCP-5815-1's beacon for this expedition is as follows: North-Northeast, at 5° from horizon, FOV of 3°, at 60% intensity.
D-7354 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 41 minutes, reaching a height of ~1570 feet before disappearing.
D-7354 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 39 minutes, reaching a height of ~1612 feet before being transported.
D-7354 steps off of SCP-5815 and enters a dark corridor with rusted gray and black walls.
A dark, humanoid figure emerges from the left wall of the corridor, dragging with him a human cadaver.
Command immediately recognizes the environment as that of the pocket dimension of SCP-106. D-7354 is urged to flee as quickly as possible.
D-7354 is pursued and almost instantly captured by SCP-106, who appears to be incredibly irritated at the arrival of D-7354. D-7354 is consumed by SCP-106's acid within minutes and contact is lost.
Note from Dr. Shaha: Despite the unfortunate outcome, this experiment gave us considerable insight into the capabilities of SCP-5815-1. If we can figure out what corresponds with what with SCP-5815-1, we may be able to enter any and every dimension at will. Needless to say that this would be revolutionary.
<Test Log 9/11/20██>
Preface: D-9969 is once again instructed to ascend SCP-5815-1. The configuration of SCP-5815-1's beacon is as follows: due North, 75° from horizon, FOV of 1°, at 10% intensity.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 36 minutes, reaching a height of ~1575 feet before disappearing.
D-9969 ascends SCP-5815-1 for a second time, for 39 minutes, reaching a height of ~1550 feet before being transported.
Contact with D-9969 is lost within a second of his arrival. Readings obtained from D-9969's equipment dictate that D-9969 was subjected to several extremes, and will not be returning. Among them: 500 Gs of crippling gravitational influence and 60,000° C of ambient heat. Additionally, D-9969's Kant counter clocked merely 10 humes, meaning that something with immense reality-bending capability was present, too.
Note from Administration: Consider using unmanned agents.
<Test Log 9/13/20██>
Preface: D-8089 is elected as the newest SCP-5815-1 subject. The configuration of SCP-5815-1's beacon is as follows: due North, 0° from horizon, FOV of 10°, at 100% tendency.
D-8089 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 41 minutes, reaching a height of ~1599 feet before disappearing.
D-8089 ascends SCP-5815-1 for 30 minutes, reaching a height of ~1505 feet before being transported.
To the surprise of all personnel present and monitoring, D-8089 reappears in our universe.
Note from Dr. Shaha: This configuration was tested several times, each time resulting in D-8089 ending up right back where he started.
Final note: In an effort to "see what happens," Agent ███████ shot the unlit beacon of SCP-5815-1 from ground level with his P350 sidearm. The beacon, several seconds afterward, switched on and snapped to Agent ███████. The beacon began reducing it's field of view, and intensifying the light. Agent ███████ appeared to be immobilized during this process. Within 6 seconds of exposure, Agent ███████ had been utterly obliterated with no remnants of his existence left behind, other than a scorched, foot-deep crater in the ground where he stood.
Idea: Broken Masquerade timeline, writer writes an essay on the topic of anomalies.
Author: Everett Sedgemoor
Title: The Anomalous Past and the Uncertain Future of Humanity
2030, Apollo Journal
Seven years ago, the world as we knew it underwent a fundamental change in perception. We were introduced to all that is fiction and yet is more real than we may ever be. We were shown the true scale of reality and the insignificance of the individual human insect. We were told that we needed to trust those who had lied to us and our ancestors for centuries. We were expected to obey or die.
Yet here we are, two thousand seven hundred days later as of writing and instead of resisting the change, we assimilated with it. Contrary to the bureaucratic belief that change is the catalyst for disaster, we survived not by dispelling what has invaded our world, but by accepting what has granted us insight into the truth between the cosmic lines. The question now is not what to do to combat the past, but what to do to secure our future. Anomalies are still just that, anomalous, but their presence in day-to-day living has created a sort of acceptance around them, or so people will tell you. The intrinsic problem with anomalies is their inconsistency. Not one single anomalous instance coincides with another. Look to the notorious Foundation, and what they were required to do to contain the thousands upon thousands of anomalies held behind bars within their facilities. The paperwork obtained from the many court cases against the Foundation appears to show not benevolence, but incompetence.
"So, what's the plan?" is a common question these days. I hate to tell you, but at the moment world coherence is at the lowest point it has been in the last millennium. Governments have collapsed, hundreds of millions of people are dead or missing, and world trade is thoroughly frozen. The sole reason we still have drinking water-that the TV is still on-is because of anomalies. The world has stopped rotating. Instead, it now revolves around anomalies. Looking back to the Foundation, one of the many sins of their organization was keeping from us not just the anomalies that would seek to harm us, but the ones that could be used to the world's benefit. For example, the anomaly known as SCP-079 is perhaps the most perfect means of world security conceivable. It [SCP-079] is an artificial(?) intelligence housed within an old pre-2000 computer, capable of asserting control of an extraordinarily large number of electronic devices simultaneously.
The future is anomalies, ladies and gentleman. And, whether or not you wish to believe it, the future is now.






Per 



