Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Documentation of the SCPs and events that occurred in Site-■■■. No matter what you believe, the contents of these files are true. The Foundation is not what it seems.

The Foundation may have censored and changed some of the information, but I have gathered what I could. These are the last remaining unadulterated copies from Site-■■■ from before the incident. I've attached additional Side Reports for a full documentation.

Do not let the Foundation get a hold of these documents.

SCP-404: The Foundation can't use George's ability on others, so they don't care much about him. Trust him.

SCP-2404: The mask that is impossible to take off; Dream is the only wearer of it, referred to in these documents as Dr. Clay Bloque, or as Dr. B■■■■■. Impossible to trust.

Agent Nick A■■■■■■■■: Sapnap. I don't know if the Foundation's found out about his connections to the site yet. Unclear whether or not to trust.

SCP-7880 & SCP-7880-A: Tubbo and Tommy. Tommy used to be  D-Class turned SCP by Tubbo. I don't know if they're safe or not. Probably not.

Dr. S■■■: Wilbur Soot is one of the only good doctors here. Do not trust.

SCP-8811-2: Bad. The Foundation always has an eye on him, never lets their guard down. Bad himself is trustworthy.

SCP-0014: Skeppy is made of diamonds. Lost contact a while ago. Do not trust.

SCP-2669: Used to be Skeppy's friend. His anomaly as described in the report is wrong. Do not trust.

Dr. Eret: Was my good friend, and a good doctor; Worked in classified projects and tried to stop SCP-8811-1. DO NOT TRUST.

SCP-7360: Technoblade is some sort of pig hybrid that gets stronger through blood. The Foundation might not be able to contain him anymore; He's too strong now. Trust him.

Dr. W■■■■■: Philza Watson was Wilbur and Techno's close friend. Only trust if Techno does.

SCP-3712: Fundy, a fox hybrid. Was close with Wilbur. Do not trust.

SCP-0817: Quackity is one of the only one that can resist. Hide him, don't let them know what Big Q can do. Trust him, help him, don't let the Foundation get him.

Dr. N■■■■■■: Niki Nihachu was a new transfer just before the Project; Good person. Unclear on her status now. Safer not to trust.

SCP-5400: Ranboo is an 'Enderman' and breached containment just before the incident. Trust with caution.

SCP-5147: Schlatt is a ram hybrid of sorts. I never knew him, and I don't think the document attached is his actual report. DO NOT TRUST.

Do not let SCP-8811-1 spread.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-404

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 1

Containment Level: 2

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 24 Yrs [128 Yrs]

Gender: Male

Height: 175 CM/5'9"

Weight: 66.7KG/147LB

Blood Type: A

Date of Birth: November 1st, 1892

Origin: English

Abnormality: Subject appears to be, for all intents and purposes, immortal. When SCP-404 dies, its body will dissolve into smoke and reawaken in a seemingly random location. No part of its body will remain after dissolving, even if it is disconnected. SCP-404 has stopped aging and remains to appear 24 years of physical age, the age of its first death.

Sentience: Subject displays capability for complex thinking and emotional intelligence typical of a human being.

Containment Requirements: Standard humanoid cell. Requested commodities may be given with Dr. B■■■■■'s permission for that of an average human being. A tracker must be secured on SCP-404 at all times. No items that could be used to kill oneself should be allowed in proximity to SCP-404.

Background: SCP-404 is a Caucasian male of average height and English background, demonstrating all traits of an average human being. The only documentation of SCP-404 is a 1915 death certificate from WWI, where SCP-404's first death occurred in battle. It made its way back to England sometime during 19■■, where it has lived ever since under the several aliases, almost all including the given name George.

Testing: Since SCP-404's ability affects its clothes as well, suggestions to attach a tracking device to it has proven successful, but even so, Level One testing with SCP-404's is to remain minimal, for both fear of a containment breach and its mental health.

01-■■: Blood, bone marrow, DNA, spinal fluid, hair, and various other samples were taken and analyzed, but no extraordinary features were found, all appearing to be that of an average human. Subject's right arm was amputated, and was then killed using [REDACTED], and all of the specimens vanished as well, alongside the arm. SCP-404 was quickly and efficiently recovered from Haiti, still unconscious from the anesthesia. No scars from the incident were present.

06-■■: Samples were taken and analyzed again, revealing them to be exactly the same as before. A serum using the samples was then administrated to a D-Class personnel, who collapsed in a seizure, and their corpse was recovered from Belarus. Various other serums were experimented with, all ending with the similar results.

Capture: SCP-404 was discovered after a car accident on ■■-■■-20■■ in London, England, where it was hit and promptly killed, before vanishing into smoke in the middle of the street. SCP Foundation researchers [REDACTED] and [REDACTED] discovered the identity of SCP-404 [George ■■■■■-D■■■■■■■■] and pursued reports of the sudden appearance of an English male in Singapore, confirming that the man's identity was the same as Mr. D■■■■■■■'s corpse. It was promptly captured and brought to Foundation custody.

Additional Notes: SCP-404 is stubborn, expressing its displeasure with Dr. B■■■■■ and the Foundation frequently, asking for freedom almost daily. It will usually comply with requests, but will often complain while doing so, and will typically only respond when addressed to as 'George' or a similar name, refusing to respond to SCP-404. Has tried to breech containment 17 times as of 08-■■-■■■■, all of which failing before Dr. B■■■■■ caught it.

SCP-404 is colorblind and has expressed a desire for more company. Interestingly enough, despite its age and era of birth, its mentality most closely resembles that of a modern 23 year old, but when asked about this, it insisted that it is extremely mature. It then proceeded to make fun of Dr. B■■■■■'s mask again.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-2404

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 1

Containment Level: 0

Classification: Non-Living Object

Origin: Site-■■■

Abnormality: SCP-2404 is a simple, circular white mask with a smile etched into it. When put on, it is impossible to remove my ordinary means, and supernatural ones continue to be investigated. It also allows the wearer to shift into a 'blob' form.

Its only other anomalous property is that the wearer may transform into an 89CM/2'11 tall 'blob', as named by SCP-404. The head becomes almost spherical, the same smile on the mask present on its face. The head constitutes roughly 40% of its entire mass in this form, the rest being a base for it to stand upon. Its body in this form is an unidentifiable substance that behaves like stiff marshmallow fluff, any injuries in either form not seeming to affect the other. It also appears that any loss of mass sustained in one form will be healed upon switching between forms.

Containment Requirements: It is suggested Dr. B■■■■■ does not leave the facility.

Background: SCP-2404, like the other items in Site-■■■, has no known origin. The current [and only] wearer of SCP-2404 is Dr. Clay B■■■■■ from Site-■■■, who had been visiting Site-■■■ to see Agent Nick A■■■■■■■■. Upon seeing SCP-2404, Dr. B■■■■■ assumed it was a part of the Agent's party and put it on, unaware of the recent shipment from Site-■■■.

Testing: No more testing on SCP-2404 is to be done by Dr. B■■■■■ himself, and experiments regarding SCP-2404 can no longer be cleared by Dr. B■■■■■ or Dr. S■■■. Again, you cannot perform experiments on yourself Clay.

04-■■: A variety of instruments were used in an attempt to either break or remove the mask, however it seems as though it has completely merged with his face, either burrowing deeper should it attempt to be cut off, or forcibly converting Dr. B■■■■■ to the 'blob' form.

02-■■: Gathering samples from SCP-2404 in its blob form have proven successful, but these samples have absolutely no use, causing no reactions from any human, object, or chemical compound. Dr. B■■■■■ reverted back with only mild discomfort.

06-■■: SCP-0014 has been brought to see if it can break the mask, but Dr. B■■■■■ and SCP-0014 insisted that karate-chopping SCP-2404 was a good idea. SCP-2404 was not damaged besides a small fragment of its hand that broke off, but Dr. B■■■■■ was forced to be hospitalized for the night, having suffered a minor concussion. SCP-0014 complained that its hand hurt from the encounter.

The rest of the experiments conducted on SCP-2404 were cleared by Dr. B■■■■■, and for a full list of his pointless and immature tests, please refer to his official documents under Reprimand-■■■. Thank you.

Additional Notes: Dr. B■■■■■ remains able to see, even through SCP-2404, claiming that it is as though the mask wasn't there at all. No mental, emotional, psychological, or physical changes have been noted in the doctor, SCP-2404 causing very little interruption in the doctor's daily life. He has, however, complained that his 'handsomeness' has been wasted, and now finds allergy season unbearable.

SCP-2404 does not interfere with Dr. B■■■■■'s work in any way and has been cleared for full duty, and containment has been determined to be unnecessary. Dr. B■■■■■ has also found it funny to randomly transform into the blob form, especially with SCP-404.

Dr. B■■■■■ is NOT allowed to alter this document.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-7880

Class: Euclid

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 4

Containment Level: 2

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 17 Years

Gender: Male

Height: 165CM/5'5

Weight: 66.7KG/146LB

Blood Type: Hemolymph

Date of Birth: Unknown

Origin: England

Abnormality: SCP-7880 is a hybrid between a human, a queen apis mellifera (European honey bee), and a hive. It is humanoid in shape, with several distinct features such as an exoskeleton over its human skin, antennae, wings, significantly wider black eyes, and stingers, located in its oddly canine-esque fangs and sharp fingernails. The venom from its bite is highly toxic, and can at times be fatal, oftentimes producing hallucinations or even comatose, although its claws seem to be less severe. Parts of its exposed skin alternates between a yellow and black fuzz, coated by its exoskeleton.

Parts of SCP-7880's flesh and innards have also been replaced with a hive system, and while this causes it no visible discomfort, some of its missing human organs do cause it occasional complications, and removal or damage to the hive result in extreme pain for it. SCP-7880 does not require any form of sustenance apart from water, seeming able to survive solely off of the honey produced by its bees. It's human skeletal structure has been replaced with a sturdy, wax-like substance, allowing it basic flight.

SCP-7880 also has a swarm of apis bees [SCP-7880-1ー4] that reside in its hive, seemingly created by SCP-7880 through unknown means. They will oftentimes buzz around their 'queen' and are much more aggressive than a regular honeybee, and will become extremely defensive of SCP-7880 should anyone approach, any harm or pain endured by SCP-7880 appearing to affect the entire swarm. Their venom, while not as toxic as SCP-7880's, is still powerful, and in a swarm, will be fatal. They also produce an ungodly amount of honey for both themselves and SCP-7880.

SCP-7880-1: SCP-7880-1 appears to perform all the duties of a regular worker bee, with the exception of caring for larvae and young bees. It has been noted that they may sting multiple times without dying.

SCP-7880-2: SCP-7880-2 do not perform any activities typical of drone bees, instead being used by SCP-7880 as guards and defense for itself and all other bees in the swarm, at times assisting SCP-7880-1.

SCP-7880-3: SCP-7880-3 is similar to typical larvae, except it seems capable to appear spontaneously in prepared cells, birthing itself in under a day.

SCP-7880-4: Instances of SCP-7880-4 are both rare, and seem to serve no use. They resemble virgin queens, that typically battle for the title of queen. None of these attack SCP-7880, but instead simply buzz around almost pointlessly.

Sentience: SCP-7880 displays a high level of complex thinking similar to a human's, but will always revert to its animal instincts in given situation. Its emotional intelligence has yet to be determined.

Containment Info: SCP-7880 is to be kept in a greenhouse-like cell, double that of a regular humanoid cell with plenty of fauna and pollen to satisfy its bees inside. Smoke machines are to be regularly checked and maintained, and double doors are to be installed as a precaution so that no instance of SCP-7880-1ー4 breaches containment. Ten cameras are to be installed in SCP-7880's cell, eight hidden, two not.

Background: SCP-7880 has the appearance of a humanoid male teenager of English origin based off its dental structure, but has no reproductive organs to indicate gender. Most of its history is currently unknown.

Capture: SCP-7880 and instances of SCP-7880-1ー4 were found in the English countryside, discovered when several campers were found stung to death by an intense bee venom. Researcher [REDACTED] immediately began investigation, resulting in the capture of SCP-7880 and SCP-7880-1ー4.

Testing: C-Class and above personnel are not to be present when testing on SCP-7880 or its various instances.

03-■■: SCP-7880 was smoked and separated from all instances of SCP-7880-1ー4. All instances of SCP-7880-1ー4 began buzzing violently in search of their 'queen', and upon awaking, SCP-7880 began crying uncontrollably.

While separated from each other, regular honey bees were introduced to both parties. Those introduced to SCP-7880 attempted to console it, but did not become instances of SCP-7880. Those introduced to SCP-7880-1ー4 proceeded to join them, forming a larger hoard.

All bees when returned to SCP-7880 [even the ones that had not previously been turned into SCP-7880-1ー4] went into its hive, where they stayed for five minutes before returning to their usual duties.

03-■■: One SCP-7880-4 and a small portion of bees were separated from SCP-7880 in the hopes of creating a honey farm. None of the bees cooperated, and SCP-7880 showed mild distress until they were returned, going back into the hive for five minutes.

02-■■: Honey was harvested from SCP-7880's hive system successfully, although only a small amount was able to be gathered for fear of damaging SCP-7880. It has been noted by Dr. S■■■ that it is 'the best f*cking honey I've ever tasted'. SCP-7880 did not seem to notice the missing honey, but its swarm immediately began repairing the damage to its hive upon awakening.

Additional Notes: SCP-7880 and its instances are all hostile and defensive towards humans, and so far, all introduced animals, the only exception being other honey bees, which SCP-7880 allowed entry into its hive, where they became instances of SCP-7880-1ー4. SCP-7880 and its colony will usually not attack intruders unless it feels it is in danger, and has so far killed 26 D-Class personnel and injured 11 during its bi-weekly maintenance.

SCP-7880 has the following organs replaced with its hive system, some of the others being dislocated to make room:

• One Lung
• Parts of its Intestines
• Pancreas
• Liver
• Bladder
• Both Kidneys
• Gallbladder

It has managed to survive without them thus far, serving no use for most of them, however, its lack of a pancreas has caused some concern. It has no substitute for the organ, one that is necessary for both bees and humans, and as a result, seems unable to create insulin. It is undetermined how SCP-7880 has managed to survive this long, and has been administered insulin by D-Class personnel on a bi-weekly basis. Its health and mood have improved significantly.

SCP-7880's cell is smoked while the insulin is administrated, but it has still woken up on several occasions, using several unknown methods to keep itself awake, attacking the personnel through the apiary suits. It has also attempted escape fourteen times, managing to breach containment once, but was unaware of the double door system in place on its cell, and was ultimately restrained.

It appears to have a good connection with doctors B■■■■■ and S■■■, as long as they maintain their distance and do not make any threatening movements. Dr. B■■■■■ has been stung thrice, and Dr. S■■■ thirteen. SCP-7880 has expressed no desire to speak, but does show an understanding of English and a frustration when Dr. S■■■ attempted to teach it to read. It seems to enjoy their company, but still remains wary of them. [It also seemed to be on good terms with its old doctor before his transfer, Dr. E■■■. He was replaced with Dr. S■■■, and SCP-7880 had initially shown displeasure with the switch. It is unknown whether or not it still remembers Dr. E■■■]

Addendum: On a routine administration of insulin, SCP-7880 woke up again. However, instead of attacking the new D-Class personnel as anticipated, it spoke to it briefly before stabbing it with its claws in the heart.

The D-Class personnel has since underwent a sudden transformation that took nearly two hours, and has been named SCP-7880-A. A separate file has been provided.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-7880-A

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 3

Containment Level: 1

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Height: 190CM/6'3

Weight: 80KG/ 177LB

Blood Type: Hemolymph

Date of Birth: 5/9/■■■■

Origin: England

Abnormality: SCP-7880-A obtained its anomalous qualities when it was administrating SCP-7880's bi-weekly supply of insulin. SCP-7880 injected it with what is believed to be a variant of its venom directly to its left ventricle, causing it to begin a rapid transformation.

SCP-7880-A displays some of SCP-7880's qualities, such as antenna, enlarged eyes, deformed wings, stingers on its fangs and fingers, and an exoskeleton. It lacks the hive system present in SCP-7880's body, as well as the fuzz that covers its body. It appears to remain mostly human, and is immune to smoke, but does seem to no longer require sustenance, similar to SCP-7880.

All of its organs seem to have remained the same, although it appears as though it no longer has use for most of them anymore. It has been noted that its venom is less potent than SCP-7880's but significantly greater than SCP-7880-1's, and while SCP-7880-A appears to be a part of SCP-7880's swarm system, it itself seems to have no other role than to accompany and protect SCP-7880, the other bees largely ignoring it.

Sentience: SCP-7880-A seems to have retained its human intelligence, although like SCP-7880, it will revert to animal instincts in given situations. It is uncertain how much of its emotional intelligence was altered, but it appears to have remained the same.

Containment Info: SCP-7880-A is to remain in the same cell as SCP-7880, but a nitrous oxide vent should be installed. No other accommodations are necessary.

Background: SCP-7880-A was an eleventh-grade English adolescent male named Thomas S■■■■■ with no significant qualities, being brought into Foundation custody and made into a D-Class personnel on ■■-■■-■■■■. It was in custody for nearly three months when it was sent to SCP-7880's cell, where its transformation occurred. It is unknown as to why SCP-7880 took a liking to it.

Capture: Was already in Foundation custody.

Testing: Testing with SCP-7880-A is unadvised. The same rules as SCP-7880 are to be put into effect.

03-■■: SCP-7880 was smoked and SCP-7880-A was gassed, and were promptly separated. Upon awaking, SCP-7880 began crying and screaming, notably worse than when its bees had been separated. SCP-7880-1ー4 began displaying similar behavior during test 03-■■.

SCP-7880-A appeared confused upon awaking, searching for SCP-7880. Upon discovering its separation, it began screaming threats and profanities at the scientists, eventually beginning to cry similar to SCP-7880 after a half hour.

When returned, and SCP-7880 and SCP-7880-A hugged for approximately five minutes, the swarm returning to their usual duties.

03-■■: Test 03-■■ was attempted again, although this time SCP-7880-A was alerted beforehand and that it would be swiftly returned. SCP-7880 displayed similar results to before, although it did wait nearly a minute before lashing out. SCP-7880-A, however, while clearly anxious and sad, waited nearly forty-five minutes before crying.

Bees had been introduced to SCP-7880-A during the separation, although neither seemed to care for the other, and they remained normal bees.

01-■■: More bees were introduced, with no difference to results before SCP-7880-A.

03-■■: SCP-7880, SCP-7880-1ー4, and SCP-7880-A were all separated. SCP-7880 immediately collapsed from despair, SCP-7880-1ー4 and SCP-7880-A displaying more panicked responses from their previous testing, SCP-7880-A going as far as to try to breach containment in an attempt to reach SCP-7880. It was successfully stopped and all instances of SCP-7880 were reunited.

Additional Notes: SCP-7880-A retains its ability to speak, read, and converse with humans, although now does so minimally. It's only priority seems to be SCP-7880, and threatened anyone entering the cell, including doctors B■■■■■ and S■■■■, who had been on good terms with SCP-7880, deeming them a threat to SCP-7880. After Dr. S■■■ became friends with SCP-7880-A as well, it seems to have calmed down, although remains overly-protective of SCP-7880.

SCP-7880 has been more relaxed in SCP-7880-A's presence, having calmed down its hostility significantly, and the same effect seems to apply to both its swarm and SCP-7880-A once it senses that SCP-7880 is not in immediate danger. Should it sense danger, however, it will show no mercy to the offender. SCP-7880-A is now responsible for administering SCP-7880's insulin bi-weekly.

SCP-7880-A, like SCP-7880, seems to enjoy doctors B■■■■■ and S■■■'s company, and will at times engage in conversation for the both of them, although it does assist SCP-7880 with speaking should it desire to try, having stated that they share something similar to a hive mind, but did not elaborate further. It also refers to SCP-7880 as 'Tubbo', and only responds to 'Tommy', and has refereed to Dr. B■■■■■ as a 'green bastard' on several occasions. Dr. S■■■ has been asked not to use the term multiple times.

Addendum: Three weeks after SCP-7880-A's transformation, it suddenly collapsed, and in a fit of desperation, SCP-7880 tore a piece of its hive system out of its body, attempting to force feed SCP-7880-A its honey. Almost all its bees began writhing, the event sending them in extreme pain. Dr. S■■■ entered the cell, and despite approaching SCP-7880 rapidly and with no protective wear, was not stung. It attempted CPR to no avail.

Dr. B■■■■■ then entered the cell with regular honey brought in from the cafeteria, force feeding it to SCP-7880-A similar to how SCP-7880 attempted to feed it. SCP-7880-A awoke after several minutes. This has been named incident 7880-■■-20.

Adjustments to SCP-7880's cell have been made, seeing as how SCP-7880-A is incapable of consuming its necessary honey without significantly injuring SCP-7880.

An apiary has been installed, and a small portion of SCP-7880-1 and SCP-7880-2 now resides in it, though they still treat SCP-7880 as their queen. The honey produced by the apiary is to be given to SCP-7880-A, although a small portion is also given to doctors B■■■■■ and S■■■ by SCP-7880-A, seemingly out of appreciation.

SCP-7880-A is now stable and healthy.

Chapter Text

Tommy's life from before seemed like nothing more but a fever dream. But he did remember that day clearly: The last day before he was dragged into literal hell.

It was the second week of school, eleventh grade just starting. Perhaps he wasn't the brightest, but he certainly wasn't dull either, but now he wished he'd been more studious. Maybe if he'd taken school more seriously he wouldn't of found himself running late on that day. The morning had seemed pleasant enough, although it seemed likely that a drizzle would roll in sooner or later, but that was to be expected, given the English climate. And besides, he was late anyway. Taking one day off so early in the year would have hardly mattered anyway.

That was Tommy's first mistake.

His second was passing through to a more deserted area of town, one barren of people this time of day, the majority of the town's population either in school or work. Tommy grinned at the emptiness, more content at the lack of life than concerned, something calling to him from its desolate streets. Reasonably, being alone in any part of town should have crossed his mind as dangerous, but for some reason, he felt as much as ease in the empty alleys as in his own home. This did not cross him as suspicious at all.

He didn't know it at the time, but the last normal moments of his life were almost over, his clock ticking loudly inside his ears in a silent rhythm that he was yet unaware of. The urge to sleep began to play with his mind, as though urging him to just- Lay down. Maybe if he hadn't spent all of last night playing video games, then it might not have been so strong. Or maybe if he simply gave a second thought to how strange it was that his lids were feeling heavy despite only waking up half an hour ago. Or maybe even paid attention to the strange wrenching in his gut that was practically begging him not to listen to the sudden calling of weariness.

Lots of things could have gone differently in those final moments of normalcy, but none of them happened. Tommy stifled a yawn, finding himself compelled to lean against the sturdy wall of a nearby building, seriously contemplating to just lay his head against it and rest his eyes, if not for a moment.

A quick scream passed through his lips, but was promptly cut short as soon as it'd begun. The solid wall beneath him suddenly pulled him in, leaving Tommy tumbling into the space it had left. Everything went dark much too fast, and he felt himself falling for much longer than he should have. Despite feeling more awake then ever before, a rising static in his ears called him to sleep, and reluctantly, he obeyed.

Tommy fell asleep falling in never-ending darkness, not knowing that everything he knew before had been ripped clean from his hands.

~~~

It's been three months since Tommy woke back up. Every minute of it has been hell.

Tommy had woken up in a type of interview room with significant effort, taking a minute to even realize he was awake. The room was bland, decorated with nothing except a table and chair, and most surprisingly, a guard armed with much more than non-lethal weapons. Seated in front of him was a serious lady in a uniform, the logo some sort of weird circle with arrows. She began asking him questions, which seemed basic enough at first, but soon ventured into mildly strange. Eventually, she seemed unsatisfied with Tommy's knowledge, or perhaps more realistically, lack of any.

"What year is it, Mr. Simons," She had asked, and Tommy frowned and burrowed his brows, thinking it yet another strange question to add to his ever-growing pile of questions. She had asked him so many questions that made it seem as though he were a criminal of some sort, and stranger yet, she seemed so professional, yet had yet to reveal her own name despite seeming to know everything about Tommy. And why would she be asking for the year?

"Two thousand... eighteen?" He answered hesitantly, genuinely confused as to why she was asking him this. She merely glanced back down at her file, nodding, but gave him no other indication of what all of this was about. The guard behind her seemed to grow more bored.

"September, correct?" Tommy nodded hesitantly, but she seemed to be paying him as little attention as possible. "Do you remember the date?" Tommy's brows furrowed, for some reason unable to remember, so he shook his head yet again, which caused the lady to start to sigh before catching herself, brushing it off as though she wasn't bored out of her mind.

"Alright, I think we're done here," She ended up saying, stretching herself as she began to head out the door, completely ignoring Tommy and his confusion. "I  have a couple more I have to do before we're finished."

"What do we do with him?" The guard asked, the gruffness of his voice surprising Tommy slightly, making him retreat further into himself, despite wanting so badly to ask the same question. "He's in the acceptable time frame for taking him back." The lady glanced him over with a tired expression.

"There's too many of them to do that," The lady grumbled, apparently no longer caring or even remembering Tommy's existence. "Make him into a D-Class or something, I really don't care." This seemed to surprise the guard only a little more than Tommy, who still had no idea what was going on.

After that meeting, it felt as though Tommy was stuck in a never-ending nightmare. He did eventually learn what a D-Class was from his bunk mates, and it was not pleasant in the slightest. Every day before he opened his eyes, the universe toyed with him, making him think albeit very briefly, that he would be greeted with the sight of his bedroom ceiling. Instead, he was greeted with the metallic view of the bunk above him. He wanted to scream.

Some of the D-Class had an idea what was going on, and Tommy felt as though he got the gist of it. This was the SCP Foundation, where they housed several monsters and supernatural objects, keeping them hidden from the outside world through, according to Tommy, immoral means. None of the people Tommy ever talked with had any clue as to how large the Foundation was or how it operated, and most were unclear as to why they were even here, Tommy included.

It was only through one of his bunk mates that he was even made aware of the fact that this was not 2018, but in fact, 2021, and that Tommy had been asleep in an unnamed SCP for a couple years. Tommy wasn't quite sure what was worse: The fact that he'd not only skipped forward three years and was forced to work as cannon fodder l in this hell hole, or the fact that the Foundation could have easily sent him back to his previous life but were merely too tired to do so. He knew they had amnesthetics. They all knew.

Tommy's initial rage from before had quickly melted away into fear after being assigned his first task, and even after three months, this fear did not fade. All of the personnel was well aware even the 'safest' of tasks could result in it being the last. Lasting more than six months was considered lucky.

Tommy's first task had been one of the more of an experiment than a task. SCP-8811 was not necessarily the most dangerous SCP, but the D-Class tended to whisper amongst themselves about the different SCPs to warn each other against the wishes of the scientists. Understandably so, Tommy was mortified when he learned 8811 was most known for killing a D-Class and injuring several others. Thankfully, he ended up surviving, leaving the testing area with only minor injuries, which was apparently considered good by his fellow personnel.

Tommy wanted to be mad, he really did. It was just who he was, and he saw several others who made their anger well known to anyone who'd listen, D-Class or not. But his fear was just too great, and the sadness and grief he felt every time he remembered one of his stupid dogs, all his boring schoolwork, or even the way his mom always yelled at him for being too loud. So he stayed quiet, crying himself to sleep on those first few nights before the constant panic surrounding him soon became the norm.

By his three month mark, Tommy was more or less used to the Foundation, having participated in several experiments and tasks already. His least favorite was one where they erased his memory, and when he awoke the next morning, his entire body was covered in bandages, his entire backside completely covered in small, deep cuts. He had a nightmare that night, the details fuzzy, but the face of the creature that was surely to blame for his injuries remarkably clear. Tommy did his best to forget all about it, but the scars that littered his body made it surprisingly hard.

Tommy had unfortunately gotten used to the routine, although he still didn't wake up dreadfully in the morning without a small part of him wishing to be back home. Sometimes doctors, or researchers, or whatever the fuckers were called would walk amidst the bunks, and Tommy always took the pleasure of glaring at them from behind their back, still frustrated that they hadn't sent him back to his parents. One in particular seemed to take note of him doing this, although the brown-haired man said nothing of it, merely looking at him sadly. He dropped something from his pocket as he passed, having accidentally bumped into his bunk after noticing him staring. Tommy stared at the small pen, considering returning it to the doctor before swiping it for himself.

Soon after, they called him to replace one of his bunk mates to care for SCP-7880. As usual, no details were released about his sudden disappearance, but from what Tommy could tell, he must have died brutally. He'd seen up close what happened to those who got stung by the SCP, and unfortunately, this was simply one of those tasks where you kept doing it until you died. And you would eventually die. Tommy screamed into his pillow that night, not caring if it woke his bunk mates, letting tears fall free for the first time in a long while. It was one thing to know you would die, and another thing entirely to be sent on a suicide mission. As usual, no one consoled him.

Two days later he was called. He was taught how to administer the insulin, and as soon as he knew how to operate it, they pushed him out the door into a strange sort of hallway. Tommy shook as the door closed behind him, the one in front of him soon opening. He heard his pulse in his ears, the rapid thrumming almost painful as he stepped hesitantly into the smoke-filled room. He coughed, the jitteriness of his hands making it almost impossible to hold the small device in his hands correctly, and his nerves practically begging him to turn back around instead of approach the SCP.

Tommy's breath was shaky as he approached what could only be described as a bee boy. He lay on a fauna filled floor, the grass surrounding him worn into dirt, clearly marking it as his preferred resting place. He had fluffy brown hair that covered his eyes, his position peaceful as his breath passed easily through his nose. That was about all of his human features, though. Tommy tried not to look at his eerie antennae or creepy layer of what looked like plastic over him, and while Tommy wouldn't consider himself trypophobic, the sight of the boy's flesh replaced with a hive system certainly made him queasy.

Careful not to step on any of the bees, Tommy tentatively grabbed the sleeping boy's arm, painfully aware that one touch of his stingers would not end well for him. Wiping the sweat off his hands, Tommy kneeled, positioning the insulin just as he was instructed to. He didn't have a chance to inject it though, as the eyes that had previously been covered by his lengthy bangs were now wide open, their profound black staring right at Tommy.

A scream ripped out his throat as he shuffled backwards, unadulterated terror striking his body, eyes wide looking at his soon-to-be-killer, somehow fully awake. The monster himself seemed to be more annoyed than anything, stretching his arms and back, glancing between Tommy and the insulin besides him. He lifted a hand towards Tommy, and several thoughts quickly ran through his mind, as they typically do when you're about to die. He whimpered, leaning away as the hand began to approach him more quickly now, the smoke seeming to have no effect on the creature anymore.

"Please don't..." Tommy wept, entire body trembling as he leaned further still from the boy, who was now on his knees, approaching him steadily. "I-I'm sorry, s-sorry!" The SCP watched him with his awfully large eyes, the sheer darkness of them making it impossible to tell where he was looking, his smaller figure now imposing on Tommy, looming over him as he found himself backed up against a wall. It's fingers seemed to pause just before reaching Tommy, tilting his head slightly.

Tommy flinched as it reached for his arm, too shocked to move or scream as it grasped it in his grip, observing the scratches that decorated the back of Tommy's arm, moving his head to look at the other arm closely as well before it seemed as though his head tilted to view the pen Tommy had forgotten he'd left in his pocket. It was so hard for Tommy to breathe, gasping every so often as he watched the monster look him over yet again, this time seeming to take in his face, and though it was impossible to tell where he was looking, it felt as though he was staring right into Tommy's eyes.

"Tu-bbo," He said calmly, voice raspy and unsure, but there was an awkward smile on his lips nonetheless. Tommy had no time to ponder what that meant, suddenly aware of one of the most intense pains he had felt in his life overtaking his body, a sort of pain spiking into his chest. He gasped and trembled, vision going dark as the boy looked over him, surprisingly softly. He felt something squeeze his hand and pat his shoulder as though to soothe the pain.

Tommy let loose another whimper before he collapsed, eyes fluttering closed, fully prepared to die.

~~~

Tommy knew he changed after that, but for some reason, he just couldn't describe how.

Tubbo was there for him when he woke up, pulling him into a tight hug, and despite the overwhelming pain he felt at the moment, he accepted, the embrace surprisingly welcome. The smoke from the room was gone, and Tommy could see Tubbo's face more clearly now, several bees buzzing around, ignoring his presence entirely.

There was a thought in his mind. He was certain it wasn't his, but he accepted it nonetheless, letting the calming sensation overtake him, the pain spurting from his head, back, fingers, and mouth slowly becoming all but a distant memory. His shaky breath stopped its erratic pattern, his pulse falling back into an easy rhythm. Tubbo smiled, pulling him into yet another hug, and this time, Tommy hugged back.

"I-" Tommy tried to speak, but soon another thought was present, not told with words, but more felt than understood. Tommy silenced himself, instead watching the boy in front of him, who seemed to be awfully cheerful. The tension that had been building up in his body suddenly released as another thought passed through his mind, one he hadn't known he needed: Friend, it said, in a different voice than his own internal voice. Tommy had never heard it before, but he was sure it belonged to the boy in front of him. Tubbo smiled.

Tubbo didn't exactly wait for Tommy to respond, giving the back of his hand a reassuring pat, opening his mouth to tell Tommy something else before a soft beeping sound interrupted them. Tubbo huffed, turning his attention towards the vents that had been positioned into the room, now dispensing a trickle of smoke.

"T-Tubbo?" Tommy whispered aloud, watching the bee boy's eyes flutter, clearly trying to keep himself awake as the smoke became thicker and thicker. While he had no clue as to why he suddenly found himself so attached to the boy, he was, and a sudden fire of anger sparked in him as he slumped onto the ground, the bees soon following suit. There was a faint thought that Tommy soon felt, more shaky than the others that whispered in his mind. Follow along.

So Tommy did, letting the exhaustion that had returned now that Tubbo fell asleep consume him alongside his absolute anger, letting himself slouch against the wall as though asleep. The faint hiss of the door could be heard after a minute, yet Tommy didn't dare let himself peek just yet, waiting instead for the door to close before cracking one of his eyes open, peering out through a small opening in his growing bangs.

There was a man in a lab coat and apiary helmet that was approaching. He walked softly, careful not to step on any bees, features obscured by the mesh over his face. He glanced over Tubbo but didn't dare get closer than a few feet, instead purposefully walking around the sleeping figure to get to Tommy, dropping down onto a knee to get a better view. Tommy wasn't too sure if Tubbo's instruction had been 'Stay asleep' or 'Attack when possible', but Tommy choose to believe he meant the latter, seeing as how the man was now dangerously close to Tubbo.

"Wake him up!" Tommy shouted suddenly, lunging at the man, who let out one of the sharpest yelps he had ever heard. Speaking seemed to be difficult, more difficult than he remembered, but still Tommy shouted curses at the man, who was trying to back up away from Tommy, cleverly avoiding his new claws. There was a shout over a PA system Tommy hadn't been aware of, supposedly to inform the scientist of reinforcements. Tommy had to make this quick then, so that no one else approached his friend.

"Calm down!" The accent was clearly English, but Tommy ignored it, instead swiping up with his claws, undoing the mesh that covered their face. Concerned brown eyes stared back up at him behind thin-rimmed glasses, wavy brown hair having fallen out of place from their brief tussle. Tommy went to slice his face open, but one of his hands was caught by the man, the other soon following. He growled and tried lunging yet again, but the man was surprisingly strong, able to keep Tommy in place with just his arms.

"Why hello there," He chuckled nervously, yet somehow curiously, eyes softening slightly as he looked Tommy over. "I'm Dr. Soot."

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-8811

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 2

Containment Level: 2

Classification: Humanoid

Age: Unknown

Gender: Male

Height: Averages 193CM/6'4

Weight: 96.6KG/213LB

Blood Type: Unknown

Date of Birth: Unknown

Origin: United States of America

Abnormality: SCP-8811 is a black, humanoid shaped 'cloud' that resembles a shadow, light unable to pass or reflect on it. SCP-8811's black matter has yet to be identified, and cannot be touched by most physical objects, completely covering what appears to be a human interior. X-Rays show a human male skeletal structure inside SCP-8811, and anyone that attempts to grab SCP-8811 will phase through the cloud and feel something similar to human skin. Samples from this interior simply vanish as soon as they are taken. SCP-8811 has no features apart from pure white eyes that are either unable or unnecessary to close. SCP-8811 seems to not require any form of sustenance.

Sentience: SCP-8811 displays above average human intelligence and understands all the traits associated with emotional intelligence.

Containment Info: SCP-8811 is to be kept in an airtight, empty standard humanoid cell equipped with four cameras at different corners of the room, which are to be monitored at all times. Any requests not already asked of must be reported to Dr. B■■■■■.

Addendum 11-■■-■■■■: Due to the discovery of SCP-8811-1 and SCP-8811-2, it's containment information has been updated. Please refer to SCP-8811-2 for its new containment information.

Background: Prior to its discovery, SCP-8811 was an urban legend of the moderately sized city of [REDACTED], whose citizens claimed a demon walked the streets during the night after several drunk teenagers swore a dark figure approached them and tried to reap their souls. When told the legend, SCP-8811 chuckled.

Capture: SCP-8811 was discovered after Foundation Researcher [REDACTED] investigated the legend, and soon after verifying its authenticity, a field squad was sent to the city, and it was found in an abandoned house and chased only briefly before being restrained.

Testing: Please note: Further testing of SCP-8811 will be denied unless mandated by a level three or higher clearance, since Dr. B■■■■■ does not wish to spend anymore time with it than necessary. Thank you ♡

Addendum 11-■■-■■■■: SCP-8811's testing information has been updated. Please refer to SCP-8811-2 for its new testing conduct.

02-■■: Attempts to receive a sample from the human interior have proven fruitless, no matter the method. SCP-8811 remained uncooperative and all attempts to sedate it resulted in failure as well. The only results that have come back usable are from the x-ray, although the head area was unreadable.

02-■■-01: Second attempt to retrieve a sample, this time by cutting off some of the hair of the interior. It immediately vanished as soon as it was separated from the body.

02-■■-02: More tests to gather a sample, or at least get a sight of the interior. A camera was sent through the cloud, but all readings came out as static. It has been concluded that it cannot be viewed using natural means.

Dr. S■■■ mistakenly reached for its face, and he was 'bitten'. SCP-8811 did not move any of its facial features to do this, but the indentation of human teeth were seen on his skin. They do not match any dental records.

06-■■: SCP-8811 has been introduced to SCP-0014. No actual testing could be done as both refused to stop arguing, resulting in SCP-8811 to have one of its fits.

06-■1: SCP-■■■ was used to try and view the interior. It did not work. We have given up trying to view it.

01-■■: SCP-8811's cloud, while mostly smoky and gaseous, seems to be unable to spread too far away from SCP-8811's interior, but a small portion can, however, be separated using [REDACTED]. Only small amounts are able to be retrieved at a time before SCP-8811 begins screaming uncontrollably. The samples has been given to [REDACTED] for use on SCP-■■■■ to [REDACTED].

These samples will be known as SCP-8811-1 from henceforth. SCP-8811-1 has been given its own files, and a security clearance must be administered from a level four member is required to view them.

Additional Notes: SCP-8811 is overall unpleasant and rude, disliking staff and most other SCPs, most notably SCP-0014. It has shown aggression and violence multiple times, severely injuring Dr. B■■■■■ and killing a D-Class personnel. It has tried escape once by blocking the cameras with its smoke, attempting to slip through the cracks of its cell. It seemed to be restrained by its human interior.

SCP-8811 has revealed little about itself, but has mentioned that its death was 'unfortunate'. It did not elaborate. When asked about the interior, SCP-8811 has stated not to bother it, but did not explain further. When asked if SCP-8811 was male, it responded with 'Sure', seemingly not aware of the interior's gender until told. It adamantly refuses to discuss anything regarding it, going as far as biting doctors when attempting to gather samples from it.

SCP-8811 has also expressed several 'fits', where it will sit with its hands pressed against its head, and occasional grunting can be heard. It usually pretends as though they do not happen, but did once threaten staff should they ever disturb it during one. While not in need of sustenance, SCP-8811 does occasionally fall asleep, although it is hard to tell when this happens, as its eyes remain open, and it usually does this sitting upright.

Addendum 09-■■-■■■■: During one of SCP-8811's fits, SCP-0014 began to pester it. It appeared to be particularly severe, and after fifteen minutes, it collapsed to the ground, its eyes closing. Soon after, the cloud began to dissipate around it, revealing the human interior. The incident has been documented as Incident-■■■.

This human interior has been named SCP-8811-2. A separate file has been provided for SCP-8811-2.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-8811-2

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 1

Containment Level: 1

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Height: 193CM/6'4

Weight: 91.1KG/201LB

Blood Type: AB

Date of Birth: 4/2/■■■■

Origin: Unites States of America

Abnormality: SCP-8811-2 is the human 'interior' of SCP-8811, having a parasitic relationship with SCP-8811. With SCP-8811 having tired itself from controlling it, SCP-8811-2 behaves and looks much like a normal human, except for its eyes, which remain white.

Sentience: SCP-8811-2 displays capability for complex thinking and emotional intelligence typical of a human being.

Containment Info: SCP-8811-2 may be given some liberties with its containment. It is to reside in the same standard humanoid cell as SCP-8811 with more commodities, and may even wander the wing with the accompaniment of trusted staff. Should SCP-8811-2 display signs of losing its autonomy while outside its containment, it is to be immediately tranquilized and returned.

Addendum: SCP-8811-2's privilege has been revisited. 'Trusted staff' now only applies to Level Four or higher personnel, along with any appointed Level Three staff. No person outside of those working on Project [REDACTED] should be handling SCP-8811 and/or SCP-8811-2.

Addendum: All requests or abnormal behavior demonstrated by either SCP-8811 or SCP-8811-2 are now to be handled by Dr. E■■■ [REDACTED FOR CONFIDENTIALITY PURPOSES].

Background: SCP-8811-2 is an adult Caucasian male from the United States named Darryl Noveschosch. It doesn't recall much of how it came into contact with SCP-8811, but remembers that it began suffocating it while it tried to sleep. SCP-8811-2 has been in a state of exhaustion during the period of time SCP-8811 had autonomy, 'waking up' every once in a while to try and kick it out [SCP-8811's fits].

Capture: SCP-8811-2 was revealed to be inside of SCP-8811 on ■■-■■-■■■■ after SCP-8811 lost control of it's body.

Testing: As of 11--■■-■■■■, no further testing is to be done on SCP-8811-2 without consent from two level three staff from Project [REDACTED]. Dr. B■■■■■ is no longer in charge of SCP-8811. All testing must be approved of by Dr. E■■■ [REDACTED FOR CONFIDENTIALITY PURPOSES], and all new findings may be viewed by select Level Three personnel.

01-■■: Subject cooperated with test, willfully allowing SCP-8811 to regain autonomy of the body. It immediately returned and consumed SCP-8811-2's body again, lashing out at any personnel nearby. SCP-8811-1 was also extracted during this time, as requested by [REDACTED].

Problems arose when SCP-8811-2 was still not regaining control after an hour. Attempts to 'wake it up' were unsuccessful, SCP-8811 showing only mild distress and strain. SCP-0014 then began shouting at SCP-8811 over the intercom, and this surprisingly worked, SCP-8811-2 returning.

*All other tests performed on SCP-8811 and SCP-8811-2 require either Level Four or Project [REDACTED] security clearance. SCP-0014 and Dr. B■■■■■ are no longer allowed to be present during its experiments either.

Additional Notes: SCP-8811-2, unlike its SCP-8811 counterpart, is extremely pleasant. It is generally cooperative with few exceptions, and has expressed a desire for no more tests. SCP-8811-2, while having both gun and knife knowledge and skill, has never demonstrated violence or aggression in any form. In fact, it mostly remains calm in heated situation, the most it has done being raise its voice at SCP-0014.

It should also be noted that SCP-8811-2 does not swear, and adamantly refuses to do so, and has also worked with children with special needs before coming into contact with SCP-8811. Requests for SCP-8811-2 to be introduced to passive humanoids, specifically child ones, have yet to be approved.

SCP-8811-2 has stated that it does not wish to leave the facility due to SCP-8811, afraid of losing autonomy again, although it has stated that SCP-8811 and itself seemed to have switched places. It appears as though SCP-8811-2 is now in control of the body, with SCP-8811 only briefly taking control when SCP-8811-2 allows it to or is too tired to maintain control. It has quickly become friends with much of the staff, especially SCP-0014 after 'waking it up' twice now, along with Dr. B■■■■■, who it has nicknamed 'Dream'.

SCP-8811-2 wears prescription glasses and is gluten intolerant, and as such, its food should either be gluten-free or produced by SCP-■■■. It has also been requested SCP-8811-2 receive therapeutic treatment, as it seems to vividly remember injuring Dr. B■■■■■ and killing a D-class personnel.

LEVEL FOUR OR PROJECT [REDACTED] SECURITY CLEARANCE REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT

[CLEARED]

SCP-8811-2 has been asked if it has any knowledge of SCP-8811's origins or of SCP-8811-1's properties using a truth serum created by SCP-294. It knows nothing on either. It is administered Class-I amnesthetics before each experiment.

Project P05535-01: SCP-8811-2 was brought into testing and asked to bring out SCP-8811. It complied. SCP-8811-1 was then extracted, but not nearly as much as had been hoped. SCP-8811 reverted back to SCP-8811-2, in too much pain to continue. SCP-8811-2 seemed to be in similar distress, screaming for several minutes before being knocked unconscious, and was unable to bring SCP-8811 back out.

The rest of the Project P05535 experiments bear similar results, even with the use of anesthetics. Dr. Eret has taken the role of consoling it upon himself. More efficient methods of gathering SCP-8811-1 are being investigated, and it appears as though neither SCP-8811 or SCP-8811-2 remembers these experiments.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-0014

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 1

Containment Level: 0

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 20

Gender: Referred to as Male

Height: 172CM/5'8

Weight: 175KG/385lbs

Blood Type: N/A

Date of Birth: 01/17/■■■■

Origin: United States of America, [REDACTED]

Abnormality: SCP-0014 is a sentient, humanoid-shaped collection of diamonds. It has full control over them, and as such, can both move and speak by moving the required chunks to move as desired. It can also alter its appearance and form, although it requires much energy, which surprisingly enough, is obtained through consuming carbon or carbon-rich materials. It appears to be mostly indestructible, apparently only able to be harmed by other diamonds and some supernatural means, although it is able to 'heal' itself by smoothing over the imperfections. Missing chunks of diamonds can be reformed over time through consuming enough nutrients. There have been instances of other SCPs injuring it, although none have been severe. It is also noteworthy that SCP-0014 does not require as much sleep as the average human, instead napping for a few hours every week or so.

Sentience: Subject displays capability for complex thinking and emotional intelligence typical of a human being.

Containment Info: Subject is allotted a standard humanoid cell, but is allowed to wander the facility freely, with certain restrictions. Given its teasing nature, SCP-0014 is permitted to be only in Level One clearance sectors and of course, no admittance into any SCPs cell, with the sole exception being for testing. SCP-0014 must remain within the West Wing, and should it be found wandering or attempting to go to any other area, its privilege shall be immediately terminated. A tracking device is not required, but should any Foundation member have any suspicion of SCP-0014 planning on leaving the West Wing, one will be appointed. If SCP-0014's 'pranks' go from teasing to harmful, then its privilege shall be terminated. For any questions regarding SCP-0014's privileges, please consult Dr. B■■■■■.

UPDATE: After the incident with SCP-1048, all SCPs granted permission to wander the Foundation are now required to wear tracking devices.

Background: SCP-0014 claims it has lived in several areas of the United States, including California and Texas. Using SCP-2669's power's, SCP-0014 was able to assimilate itself into human society, making a name for itself as a class clown before being discovered. It lived under the alias Zak Ahmed, having attended school ever since it met SCP-2669 at the age of [REDACTED] at [REDACTED]. Despite its late start, it displays average intelligence, even planning on attending college before being discovered. It is unsure of how it was created, describing its first memory as mostly hazy, but from sometime around the age of four. Other than this, SCP-0014 has lived a normal life.

Capture: SCP-2669's power keeping up SCP-0014's human appearance had suddenly disappeared whilst it had been attending its part time job, revealing SCP-0014's true form. Despite trying its best to cover up the slip, the Foundation soon became aware of both of their existence, promptly capturing SCP-0014. The Foundation was unable to locate SCP-2669.

Testing: Given SCP-0014's nature and anomaly, it is frequently used in several experiments. SCP-0014 may be asked to be used in any experiment regarding other SCPs, but Dr. B■■■■■'s permission is recommended.

Note: SCP-0014's Testing Log will be kept brief, excluding its Level 6 experiments. For a full list of SCP-0014's Testing, please consult 0014-■■-■■.

01-■■: Subject was asked to try and break a diamond. It complete the task by biting it, causing it to shatter. It proceeded to eat it. We weren't quite sure what we expected to happen, honestly.

03-■■: A chunk of SCP-0014's finger was cut off using [REDACTED], and while it claimed no physical pain, it flinched, describing it as more of an 'itch'. The chunk was analyzed, but it appeared to have no anomalous qualities in of itself, although the subject did make it particularly difficult by causing the specimen to wiggle every so often, although this effect seems to diminish exponentially the farther away it is. The furthest it has managed to move the specimen has been four and a half meters [15ft].

SCP-0014 has encouraged us to keep the specimen, growing another finger after consuming a particularly large portion of carbon. It has explained that something similar had happened before, but seemed unwilling to explain, simply stating that he could eat the chunk if desired.

01-■■: Subject was placed in a blast furnace able to reach the necessary 760º Celsius [1400º Fahrenheit]. No cameras or audio was able to be recorded of the experiment due to the impossibly high temperatures, so this recording is based off SCP-0014's word.

SCP-0014 claims that it had never truly felt changes in temperature before now, and has expressed an intense desire to never repeat it. It claims that it felt as though it were 'smoking', which is more than likely, given that regular diamonds at 765 degrees Celsius will simply burn up and vanish. It consumed much more carbon than usual, even going as far as to take a deep slumber after the experiment.

06-■■: SCP-0014 was introduced to SCP-■■■■, who attempted to break or shatter its diamond form. After several attempts, it was proved unsuccessful, resulting in SCP-0014 tiring itself out.

[REDACTED]-■■: [This experiment has been since REDACTED and any attempt to access the information from this experiment without Level Four clearance will be met with immediate disciplinary action.]

Additional Info: SCP-0014 responds mostly to 'Skeppy', but will also respond to Zak or Mr. Ahmed, and even SCP-0014, although with noticeable distaste. It finds it funny to be called 'Skeppy-14', referring to how when pronouncing SCP as a word it resembles the name. [Staff is to be reminded that 'Skeppy' is not the SCP's actual name, and referring to it as Skeppy 14 in place of SCP-0014 is not condoned.] It is generally positive and friendly, however it does occasionally give staff attitudes, ranging from completely immature to cold, although these seem to be mostly jokes. It's most notable friendships within the Foundation are with Dr. B■■■■■, SCP-7360, and SCP-1136.

SCP-0014 will occasionally pull 'trolls' on staff. It has been asked not to do more of these that involve the implication of a containment breach, and has so far complied.

SCP-0014 has been in Foundation custody for an extended period of time, and as such has been permitted to wander the West Wing, and has only attempted to breach containment only once on its first day. It is friends with most of the staff of the West Wing, and even some of the SCPs housed there. It is mostly compliant with experimentation, especially Level 6 experiments. The only exception is experiment 01-■■.

SCP-0014 typically enjoys following around scientists and doctors as they perform their routines, oftentimes assisting them should they ask, although it has said that it only follows the ones it thinks will be the most 'interesting'. It has expressed a longing for the outside world, yet understands that it is required to remain in the Foundation. It has also told staff that it has mixed feelings about it's old companion, SCP-2669, but when asked about its possible whereabouts, refused to say.

UPDATE: After the introduction to SCP-8811-2, SCP-0014 has taken a liking to it, and the pair have become close to inseparable. Observations indicate that SCP-8811-2 seems to genuinely wish to be friends with SCP-0014 despite its intense trolling with it, which is much more severe and playful than with any other staff or SCP. Neither SCP seems to be aware of [Level Four Clearance Required].

Chapter Text

There were several words to describe the Foundation, but the ones most of its members would use ranged from 'necessary' to 'immoral'.

Eret wasn't too sure which term he would use to describe it. He liked to think he had high ideals, but was willing to venture into the more gray areas for the greater good, something some of his colleagues tended to view as a trait for an emotionless monster. Eret considered Clay -or Dream, as he preferred to be called these days- a very good friend, or perhaps more realistically, the only person he dared trust, especially with his personal dilemmas. Dream was reasonable yet empathetic, always seeming to know the difference between necessity and morality. Eret, unfortunately, oftentimes had trouble distinguishing them, and lately started believing that just maybe he was doing more harm than good.

Eret still wasn't clear as to why he was still only Level Three, considering all his work with Thaumiel class SCPs and work in Level Four clearance projects such as this one, but he didn't complain. Maybe it was because of his willingness to cooperate in the 'dirtier' experiments and his rank that Eret was appointed as one of the scientists working on a new project named 'Project Possess'. Compared to some of his other projects, this one wasn't so bad. In fact, it didn't even kill anyone.

It was what would be done with the results that worried Eret the most.

Project Possess was classified as top secret. Most Thaumiel projects were. Revealing the project's intentions or even the mere existence of Thaumiels to someone outside of the project would not end well for Eret. But Dream was Eret's friend before anything else, and right now, he needed some serious help.

"You really like that new SCP, don't you," Eret said as casually as he could, startling the doctor as he slipped out of the SCP chamber. His blond hair was growing long, bangs nearly covering the freakish dots of his mask. As always, his expression was almost impossible to read, but judging by his small jump, Eret must have succeeded in surprising him.

"Holy fuck Eret!" Dream exclaimed, immediately pulling him into a hug, wide smile all but engulfed in it. "Come on, let me fill out the reports for him and we can talk. I have a feeling you didn't stop by just to say hello." Somehow Dream was always able to read him like a book, but Eret never complained, instead welcoming it.

With a weary smile and a nod he followed Dream into the observation chamber for SCP-404, one of the newest additions to the Foundation. Looking over through the one-way glass, he could see a rather pretty-looking man in the cell, bored expression plastered on his face as he played with his brown hair. Eret was already familiar with his anomaly, having already experimented with its immortality serum. For better or for worse, it had no results, and the British boy had been left alone ever since.

"What's it this time?" Dream asked nonchalantly, knowing full well that his clearance was most likely not enough for the information Eret was going to reveal. His unintelligible scribble filled a page as he continued staring at the SCP absentmindedly, as though still trying to figure out how to speak with it. Eret recalled how difficult the SCP was from merely one conversation.

"Before I say..." Eret mumbled, positioning himself right by Dream, staring right where he remembered his eyes to be before he came into contact with the SCP. "You have to promise me you won't even show a hint that you know this information, okay? Promise me, Clay, please." This seemed to startle him at least a little as he realized that the seriousness of Eret's situation was much worse than other times.

"O-Of course," Dream managed, mouth moving stiffly, the usual reassurance from his eyes impossible to discern. "Not a word, Eret, not even a hint." Eret took a deep breath, trying to find a way to word it that would at least give Dream some deniability.

"There's this new project," He whispered, so low enough that even Dream had trouble listening, tone concerned and filled with worry. "It uses a Thaumiel to create this substance, something that can... We're trying to use it to, not exactly brainwash SCPs, but... It may- may even be for the scientists as well." Dream's back stiffened, and even though Eret couldn't see half his face, he could still somehow feel the shock and disbelief from his words.

"Clay, please," Eret murmured, gripping his arm tightly. "Tell me what to do..." For once, Dream seemed stunned into silence, something rather new to Eret. He tapped his fingers against the desk of Dream's desk, a nervous habit he supposed he should really get rid of.

"Eret I'm going to be honest with you," He muttered, and if Eret could see his face, he'd say he had a far-away look, lost in his own thoughts as he usually was. "I think you're in some deep shit, and I'm not too sure if you can get back out." Eret's breath hitched, and Dream turned to face him. "Whether you stay or go, they're going to keep working on this project. I don't like it, but maybe if you stayed... You're a good guy. People like you. Maybe they'll listen to you."

Eret could feel his palms starting to sweat as he gazed back out of the window towards the blank-faced SCP. His finger-tapping slowed as he forced down his nerves with another deep breath, giving his friend one last look over.

"Thank you, Clay," He breathed, pulling him into a tight hug, the warmth he received from it enough to calm him just enough to not break into an existential crisis. "I'll try, I promise I will." Dream smiled, that part at least still visible from under his mask, thankfully.

"And hey, when you're done for today," Dream called out just as Eret was about to step out the door, causing the already jumpy man to start tapping his fingers against the frame once more. "Come see me in my room tonight. There's something I wanted to show you."

"Yeah, of course," Eret smiled, the promise of finally being able to spend time with his only friend oddly comforting. "I'd like that, Dream."

And with that, he left.

~~~

"Hello! I'm SCP-8811-2, but please," The tall, brown-haired man smiled widely, adjusting his already straight glasses to look Eret in his brown eyes. "Call me Darryl." Eret returned his warm and kind expression as best as possible, reaching out to shake Darryl's hand, ignoring how freaky his glowing white eyes were.

"Nice to meet you, Darryl," Eret said as warmly as possible, letting his hand slip out from the shake. "My name is Dr. Eret. Please, take a seat." Darryl's smile became a little nervous, brows furrowed slightly in concern as he followed the doctor towards what looked like a dentist chair, several straps on the seat seemingly incorporated to hold him in place.

"Is this..." Darryl visibly gulped, the certainty from moments prior all but vanishing. Eret gave him a sympathetic glance, fumbling with his pockets for a minute, searching for the small pill bottles he always carried in it. He popped the tab for the first one, gesturing for Darryl's hand, dropping a small tablet into his open palm. He popped the second one open, the one that they claimed did no good, but Eret gave to him anyways, letting the significantly larger pill fall into his palm as well.

"The restraints are just for SCP-8811," Eret explained as calmly as he could without losing his cool. "And I'm afraid the pills are simply necessary before we begin the experiment. They won't hurt you, I promise." Eret handed Darryl a bottle of water, trying for the most reassuring smile he could, hoping Darryl couldn't see his pity and guilt as he downed both the tablet and pill. Eret always hated lying, and even after several years of working in the Foundation's top-secret projects, it still made his gut wrench.

"Thank you," Darryl muttered sheepishly, downing at least half the bottle before setting it back on the table it came from. He fiddled with the hem of his dull white uniform, avoiding glancing at the daunting chair besides him as he stared at his feet.

"Darryl, listen to me," Eret said much softer than usual, which was a bit of a challenge with his low voice, causing Darryl to look up and hopefully meet his eyes. "I'm not going to lie when I say this is going to hurt, but I'll make sure it ends as quickly as possible, okay? I'll be right here for you, by your side the entire time. You just got to push through it, just for a little bit." Darryl's breath hitched, his nervousness replaced by fear.

"R-Really?" Darryl whimpered, and Eret nodded, pulling the gentle man in for a tight hug, just like the one Dream gave him an hour ago. Darryl accepted, unsurprisingly, simply letting Eret calm him, if not only a minuscule bit.

And true to his word, Eret clasped Darryl in as gently as he could, making sure the restraints were loose enough so that it didn't dig into his skin, even giving his right hand a bit of freedom to grab his hand during the experiment. Darryl's breathing was heavy, but stayed mostly calm, the experiment not even beginning and Eret's arm already aching from how tightly he was holding onto him. He didn't mind though.

"Bring SCP-8811 out for us, okay?" Eret asked, and Darryl hesitantly nodding, letting his lids fall over his eerie eyes, and a black sort of smoke promptly began covering his features. "That's it Darryl, good job, remember, I'll be right here for you." Eret wasn't too sure if Darryl could even hear him, but he spoke anyway, the grip on his arm never faltering.

And then came Eret's least favorite part: The experiment itself.

One of his colleagues approached with the machine. It functioned like a large needle, although there was no point, the thin part was was more of a vacuum than a syringe. Eret wasn't too enlightened as to the specifics of it, but SCP-8811's eyes seemed to widen at the sight of it. It was rather hard to tell with no other features surrounding it, but to Eret, it made the monster feel almost human. Whether it was Darryl or the SCP that squeezed his arm a little tighter he didn't know, but held its back reassuringly nonetheless.

The doctor positioned the device where the smoke was thickest, directly over the SCP's chest. Then it turned on, and a wisp of smoke crept its way into the tube. It was hardly noticeable, just a mere plume of black in the otherwise empty space. Another minute passed and it grew to take up half of the container, forming a swirling black mass inside.

A very human scream pierced through the testing hall, but the doctor did not falter, merely jumping before regaining his calm. Eret could hear Darryl's weeping, muffled by the thick smoke surrounding him, but audible nonetheless. He began rubbing circles onto his back, wincing as both the intensity of the screams and of the aching in his arm increased, the limbs of either Darryl or the SCP thrashing about wildly in their constraints, unable to free themselves.

"You're okay, Darryl!" Eret shouted over his anguished cries, which only seemed to be growing worse and worse. The form in front of him was shaking violently, something glistening on its cheeks beneath all the smoke. Darryl's screams became so loud Eret thought his ears would burst, words unable to be heard through his sheer agony. He continued bucking, screeching something similar to, "Please, just make it stop."

Eventually the smoke ended up retreating back into Darryl, revealing the broken, whimpering man as he gasped for breath, entire body shivering as his harrowed eyes gazed unfocused in front of him. His breath was erratic and labored, tears streaming freely from beneath his glasses, grip on Eret never faltering. Despite all his pain, the vial remained a mere three-quarters full.

"N-No more," Darryl croaked, turning his gaze towards Eret with the most pained expression he had ever seen on another human being, which was something, considering he had no visible eyes. Darryl seemed unable to speak anymore, instead choosing instead to weep as quietly as he could in the chair while the other scientists watched.

"Y-Yeah, I think we'll call it a day," Eret muttered so that Darryl could hear, trying for the most reassuring smile he could. Darryl tried to copy it, but ended up falling back into another fit of shivers, unable to focus. He gave one last shudder before his lids closed, and the grip on Eret's wrist was released. He tentatively slid his bruised arm out from his loose grasp and removed his other hand from his back, staring at his unconscious form. The anesthetics finally did something.

"You shouldn't have let it pass out," His colleague muttered from besides him, staring at the slumped over figure with either disappointment, and the unfilled vial in his hands with dissatisfaction. Eret couldn't help but scoff, already undoing the restraints on Darryl's wrists, noting that despite his efforts, marks were still visible on them.

"We wouldn't have been able to get much more anyway," Eret mumbled back, standing back up from his seat besides the SCP to look down upon him, seeing as how the doctor was significantly shorted than Eret himself. "Better to cut it short with what we had than cause it more pain for just a another cubic centimeter more." This caused his colleague to frown.

"Are you serious!" He spat, face of displeasure quickly becoming one of anger, which was unsurprising, given his hot temper. "People are depending on us to finally come up with a way to control those monsters, and every time you cut the experiment short, we lose another bit that could've been used. They add up, you know, and for what? So that a monster doesn't hurt for a bit longer?" He scowled. "I knew you were empathetic, Eret, but this is just ridiculous."

"That monster is just some unfortunate man!" Eret shot back, the discussion becoming heated enough to garner the attention of their other colleagues. "And I pity you if you think empathy is a ridiculous trait, but I will not allow-" Eret never got to finish his sentence.

In the heat of the moment, his colleague threw the closest available object at Eret. Eret's words were cut short as he saw it approach his face, but was unable to do nothing more than stand shocked before the glass shattered all over him, the black smoke quickly finding their way into him before he dropped to the floor.

~~~

"Hello Clay," Eret mumbled, tone low, but for some reason oddly monotone as well. He slid into his friends private quarters, sliding the door closed behind him as he waited boredly for the doctor to greet him. There was a crashing sound from the only other room in the dorm, and soon enough Dream himself entered with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"Eret! I've been wai-" He cut himself off, face falling as he looked his friend over. "E-Eret what... happened." If Eret could see his brows, he would assume they were furrowed, his posture falling as he began slouching. He started approaching Eret cautiously, but Eret managed a smile, if not just for Dream to put the man at least a little at ease.

"Nothing huge," Eret assured, watching as Dream wiped his flour-stained hands on his leisure clothes. "Just accidental exposure to an SCP. It's completely physical, nothing bad at all." Dream frowned, now standing right in front of him, taking in his completely white, almost glowing eyes over.

"And the SCP was...?" Dream asked hesitantly, looking like he wanted to give Eret a hug, although he wasn't sure if it was more for himself or Eret. Eret so wished he could see what face Dream was making beneath that half-mask.

"That's classified," Eret muttered swiftly, frowning slightly, taking a step back away from him. Dream stiffened, leaning away from Eret as well, and an awkward silence suddenly fell between the two friends. Dream was making a face, although Eret couldn't see it fully, as though trying to suppress some form of sadness. Eret raised a brow.

"What did you want to show me anyway," Eret continued the conversation after waiting a minute, ignoring Dream's sudden silent dilemma, resting his hand on the nearby table. "If you're just going to stand there, I might as well leave." Dream stifled a soft gasp, and Eret raised his brow again. His finger seemed to want to start tapping the desk from pure muscle memory alone, yet Eret resisted, and it stayed flat against the hard wood.

"I-I'm actually kind of tired," Dream mumbled sadly, lips moving into an unreadable line as he turned himself back around, away from Eret. "I'm sure you are too. Just-" There was a hitch in his voice. "I'll see you later."

"Okay?" Eret chuckled humorlessly, seeing a pair of plain sunglasses on Dream's desk. "Mind if I take these?" He asked, gesturing towards the pair, and Dream turned around just enough for Eret to see a sort of redness on the part of his cheek that was visible. He nodded silently and Eret shrugged, slipping the glasses onto his face, which effectively covered the unnatural white of his eyes.

"Goodbye then," Eret said dully, slipping out the door, not even bothering to wonder why he was called in the first place. Dream did not respond.

~~~

"Hello! I'm SCP-8811-2, but please," The tall, brown-haired man smiled widely, adjusting his already straight glasses to look Eret in his covered eyes. "Call me Darryl." Eret returned with an awkward smile of his own, reaching out to shake the SCPs hand, ignoring how the its glowing white eyes resembled his own.

"Nice to meet you, SCP-8811-2," Eret said coolly, letting his hand slip out from the shake. "My name is Dr. Eret. Please, take a seat."

Chapter Text

A LEVEL FOUR SECURITY CLEARANCE IS REQUIRED TO VIEW THIS DOCUMENT

[CLEARED]

Subject: SCP-8811-1

Class: Thaumiel

Status: Contained

Threat Level: 3

Containment Level: 1

Classification: Semi-Living Object

Origin: SCP-8811

Abnormality: SCP-8811-1 is an extremely cohesive substance, best described as a 'black smoke' that makes up SCP-8811's body, or perhaps more realistically SCP-8811 itself. SCP-8811-1 is the substance that allows SCP-8811 to take control of its host, SCP-8811-2. The substance will always be drawn to itself, as that is how SCP-8811 retains its form. Any attempts to separate SCP-8811-1 will be met with intense resistance, as it will always try and reunite itself with the majority. It is able to be harvested through SCP-8811, seemingly indefinitely.

Most interestingly, SCP-8811-1's affect to take control of a host does not seem limited to SCP-8811 and SCP-8811-2's parasitic relationship. It has been concluded that the substance can be given to other organisms, and without SCP-8811's guidance or sentience, SCP-8811-1 merely works to dull the organism in preparation to put it to sleep, which is how SCP-8811 turned SCP-8811-2 into a host. This quality has been experimented with, and it has been concluded that through more testing it may be possible to hopefully create our own version of SCP-8811, and by giving this new SCP-8811-1 to other organisms, it may be possible to subdue and pacify even the most dangerous of SCPs.

Sentience: SCP-8811-1 has no intelligence to speak of, only seeking to reunite itself with the closest nearby portion.

Containment Info: SCP-8811-1 is to be kept in the specially designed vials made from SCP-294 under the request of 'Glass for SCP-8811-1'.

Background: SEE [SCP-8811]

Capture: SEE [SCP-8811]

Testing: Testing of SCP-8811-1 is to remain completely confidential, and should any personnel be suspected of having knowledge of SCP-8811-1's Thaumiel status, testing, or of Project Possess, they will be delivered Class-C amnesthetics.

03-OA: Subject has managed to be contained and restrained in the vials produced from the glass from SCP-294. The structure of the hardened glass appears to be a different structure than regular glass, but was able to contain SCP-8811-1, and it seems indifferent to SCP-8811 whilst in the container.

02-KW: Subject was administered to a D-Class personnel. The raw substance caused its eyes to turn white, emotional intelligence to dim, and motor functions to slow as well. Using MRI scans, it has been found that the subject's senses as well as mental capability have decreased as well. The personnel had been known for its aggressiveness, but now acts rather docile and pacifistic. When asked to perform basic tasks, it does so without question. The only indication that it was not completely subdued by SCP-8811-1 is when it was asked to hurt a fellow D-Class personnel. It seemed to hesitate, but when the personnel asked it not to, it obeyed them instead.

This quality is being researched.

02-KQ: Subject was administered to a piece of SCP-0014's diamond. The sample began to move on its own in what seems to be a random pattern until heat was applied, where the combination of SCP-8811-1 and SCP-0014 began moving towards the cooler areas. Testing with a different serum will be done on a later date.

02-KE: Subject's cellular structure was altered by Dr. [Unimportant Name] to be more concentrated and potent, then administered to another D-Class personnel. Significant progress was made, as it now followed all instructions no matter how morally questionable. The problem of it taking instructions from multiple and contradicting people remained. More research is being done.

06-KW: Subject was administered to SCP-4089. It's eyes reverted to white and many of the effects from experiment 02-KW were present, however, it was not to the desired effect. It still remained unwilling to comply with given requests, but did become notably more docile and cooperative. See Dr. [Unimportant Name] for more information and further experimentation on SCP-4089.

03-TW: Accidental experiment. Dr. Eret was hit with the recently acquired sample of SCP-8811-1, but it was not completely filled, so the full effects from experiment 03-KW were not present. Dr. Eret's eyes converted to white and continues to display his usual high intelligence, but his ability to reason seems to have dimmed significantly. He follows orders as given, completing his work efficiently. Should someone give him a task that goes against his ethics, he will still refuse to do it, although it has been noted that some of his previous morals [referring to SCPs with pronouns, restraining from causing excessive pain, etc] seem to have been forgotten.

He has been allowed to exit the testing area under heavy surveillance, and so far has shown no exceptional behavior, although his friend Dr. Bloque seems to have picked up on his shift in demeanor. Requests to deliver Class-C amnesthetics to Dr. Bloque are still pending. Experimentation of Dr. Eret is still ongoing.

02-KT: More experimentation using SCP-8811-1, this time in an attempt to completely degrade the subjects free will. Several D-Class personnel were used, and so far, all have shown at least some aspects of their individuality, no matter how high the dosage. Further experimentation is required.

02-KY: Experimentation to create a form of SCP-8811-1 able to respond only to one set of commands has been successful. D-24299 was given the new form and was ordered by Dr. Eret to kill a fellow D-Class personnel. It seemed unwilling to comply with the task, but under the Dr.'s insistence, it eventually caved. The D-Class counter-argued for it to stop, however, it followed Dr. Eret and only Dr. Eret. It no longer took orders from any other doctor, unless Dr. Eret tells it to. It was then killed.

Additional Info: Testing with Dr. Eret is to remain minimal for now, until further notice. It has been suggested he act as a form of 'sleeper agent' in the SCP Foundation to catch insurgencies and breaches of protocol before they occur. We do not seem to have full autonomy over him yet, and he has been administrated the new form of SCP-8811-1. He now follows instructions solely from [REDACTED].

Plans to use SCP-8811-1 to subdue Keter and most Euclid SCPs are going slow, as only five cubic centimeters can be harvested at a time. Twelve are needed to create a usable dosage. SCP-8811 and SCP-8811-2 seem completely indifferent to its effects, and plans to revoke SCP-8811-2's privilege of wandering the facility in fear of SCP-8811-1's discovery or escape are being discussed.

Addendum: SCP-8811-2's privilege has been revoked.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-7360

Class: Euclid*

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 6*

Containment Level: 2*

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Height: 193CM/6'4

Weight: 89KG/198lbs

Blood Type: AA [Swine]

Date of Birth: 6/1/■■■■

Origin: United States of America, California

*Subject to change

Abnormality: SCP-7360 is a humanoid with some pig features, including its blood, large canines, floppy ears, and hooves in place of feet. Should it revert to its aggravated state, its skin shall become pink, and its human features will instead be replaced with a snout, and fingers will mold into claws. In this form, SCP-7360 will go on an uncontrollable rampage, killing all those in sight. It has no control over itself in this form, and is close to unstoppable, only able to calm down after having reached a sufficient level of 'blood for the blood god'. The more blood it consumes the more powerful it becomes, and after several experiments utilizing D-Class personnel, it has been noted that its invulnerability seems to have increased. Other notable side effects from these rampages include, but are not limited to: Overall strength, agility, speed, vision, smell, intelligence, and size.

Sentience: Subject displays capability for complex thinking beyond that of an average human being, displaying incredible intelligence. It also displays adequate human emotional intelligence.

Containment Info: Two copies of a standard humanoid cell are to be allotted for SCP-7360 to alternate between. They are to be fitted with concrete walls at least three feet thick. An additional foot of reinforced steel is to be added in the event that SCP-7360 attempts a containment breach. Nitrous oxide vents are to be installed, able to dispel thrice the amount than a standard vent. The door to its cells is to be reinforced with concrete and steel, and under no circumstance is it to be opened during a rampage. Should SCP-7360 breach containment, at least twenty D-Class personnel are to be introduced to it.

UPDATE: Thirty D-Class personnel.

Background: SCP-7360 appears to have been a regular human sometime before its twentieth birthday, with the name Dave [REDACTED]. It had been raised in [REDACTED], California, attending [REDACTED] to become an English major. Its transformation was not severe enough for others to notice at the time.

Capture: On ■■/■■/2019, SCP-7360 was one of the victims of an armed robbery involving a hostage situation, eventually leaving mostly unharmed, although several of its fellow hostages ended up severely injured or dead. One injured hostage's blood ended up being inhaled by SCP-7360, who proceeded to transform and attack the captors with seemingly no control of itself, effectively killing all but one of them, who later died in the hospital. According to eye-witness testimonies, it then began to consume the blood of the captors, causing its canine teeth to grow significantly and skin to turn pink. It was preparing to attack the hostages as well before the Foundation intervened, subduing it with much difficulty and two losses of Foundation personnel.

Testing: Testing on SCP-7360 is to be extremely limited and minimized, and if possible, avoiding any possibility of SCP-7360 consuming any type of blood so as to not increase its power.

01-■■: Samples from SCP-7360 were taken and analyzed. Its blood is no longer human, and its cells display a much thicker membrane than either human or pig cells, able to harden unconsciously should the SCP be in danger. Testing with these cells is to be further analyzed. Also of interest is the fact that its cells seem to be a mixture of human and swine DNA.

03-■■: SCP-7360 was introduced to ten D-Class personnel and intentionally aggravated. Nine were slaughtered in an instant, causing its canines to grow slightly and human ears to merge into its skin. Its pink tint also became more intense, and its fingers sharpened into a claw-like shape made out of pig-hoof. It calmed down during the ninth, saying, 'That's enough blood for the blood god'. It proceeded to revert into its original form, although its canines didn't fully return, sticking out from its mouth. It claims it did not mean to kill them, and has no knowledge of 'the blood god'.

03-■■: The experiment was repeated with ten more D-Class personnel. The results were more or less the same, although this time all D-Class personnel were killed. It seemed as though it still desired more victims, but ultimately settled for the presented ten. What looked like pig ears had begun growing in its aggravated form instead of its human ones, and its feet began to thin, although it still appeared mostly human.

Its canines appear to have gotten bigger as well, and its hands no longer bear much human resemblance, although it still has an opposable thumb. It appears as though its nose has become more prominent in this form, almost as if becoming a snout. It reverted back, and yet again, its canines became did not return to their original state, and its human ears seem to have trouble returning, as well as its feet.

03-■■: This has been declared the final 03-■ experiment until further notice. Ten more D-Class personnel were introduced to its aggravated state. This time, they did not seem to satisfy it, and it demanded 'Blood for the blood god' once more, calling itself 'The Blade'. It proceeded to attack the walls with much more strength than was recorded during its initial capture, almost breaching containment by clawing through the testing walls before more D-Class personnel were introduced, and it proceeded to kill four more before seeming to be satisfied.

Its canines have gotten even bigger and seem to no longer retreat, its ears have now become fully pig-like and are not reverting back, as well as its feet. Its hair has started to become pink, and it has now grown a snout, but both eventually reverted back to brown. It should also be noted that it has also gotten noticeably more violent than experiments prior.

03-■■: SCP-7360 was now purposefully aggravated inside a secure testing facility, able to contain Containment Level 8 SCPs, alongside nitrous oxide vents and heat-sensing tranquilizing darts. It proceeded to claw a sizeable hole into one of the walls, showing no signs of calming down, instead seeming as though it only became angrier as time went on. The darts that had previously punctured through its skin during its capture now proved ineffective, and had to be subdued using the nitrous oxide vents. Upon awakening, it reverted to its original form, although in a foul mood.

01-■■: More samples were taken and compared to the ones from the previous experiment. They have gotten significantly worse. There is now an alarming amount of swine DNA in place of what used to be human DNA, and its cells are now capable of replicating themselves at 3.2x the speed they used to, not to mention the increased strength of their cell membrane. It appears as though it is now able to perform basic regeneration and is now even harder to injure.

03-■■: SCP-7360 was introduced to different types of animal blood in its regular form. It quickly became aggravated and consumed it all, and was promptly neutralized using the nitrous oxide vents yet again. It took twenty-four seconds longer than the last time to subdue it, and it woke up in an even fouler mood. The animal blood seems to have the same effects on it as human blood.

Additional Info: After intensive testing, it has been assumed that SCP-7360 will eventually attain complete invincibility and 'god-like' powers should it consume its desired blood. It is under no circumstance allowed to consume any type of blood or be purposefully aggravated again. Depending on whether or not it manages to consume more, its status will be upgraded to Keter, as it so far is not strong enough to breach containment.

Usually, SCP-7360 is calm and pleasant, having befriended SCP-0014, Dr. ■■■■ and Dr. W■■■■■. It enjoys their company, although it seems less inclined to SCP-0014 than to the doctors, but appreciates it when SCP-0014 visits it in the observation chamber nonetheless. Dr. ■■■■■■ has acquainted itself to SCP-7360, and it seems as though it has taken a liking to him as well. Plans to conduct Level 6 testing are pending, and plans to utilize SCP-7360 to eliminate dangerous Euclid and Keter class SCPs have been denied, on the basis that it will acquire more blood. It is unlikely SCP-7360 will ever be allowed to participate in Level 6 testing, even with SCPs such SCP-0014, that do not posses blood.

SCP-7360 has shown that it is a skilled fighter even without being transformed, some of 'The Blade's abilities staying with it in its original form. SCP-7360 has stated that it has no idea as to where these abilities came from or how to control its aggravated state. SCP-7360 has attention deficit disorder and its medication from before its containment in the Foundation is continued, and it seems as though its favorite dishes involve those using potatoes. SCP-7360 is allotted certain commodities inside its cell, and any request must be approved by Dr. W■■■■■ beforehand. Please stop asking about the steering wheel, we don't know why it wanted it.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-3712

Class: Euclid

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 4

Containment Level: 3

Classification: Animalia

Physical Age: 20 Years [?]

Gender: Male

Height: 45CM/1'6

Weight: 11KG/24LB

Blood Type: DEA 4

Date of Birth: Unknown

Origin: The Netherlands

Abnormality: SCP-3712 is a vulpes vulpes [red fox] with shape-shifting abilities. SCP-3712's natural physical state is its fox form, which serves as a base for when it shifts. SCP-3712 appears to only be able to copy living, organic mammalian creatures it has seen, and does not adapt any qualities other than physical ones with very few exceptions. Once it shifts, or 'copies', an organism, it appears unable to differ greatly from the appearance of the chosen organism should it wish to shift to the same creature again. Mixing of these forms have been deemed impossible, however, SCP-3712 does seem to have some control over the size and severity of its body and features. [See Incident-3712-■■ for details]

Another interesting feature of SCP-3712, is that should it try to copy another mammalian organism, it retains several of its original fox features. Which and how many of these features that remain are entirely dependent on the organism SCP-3712 shifts into on a case-by-case basis, but it has been noted that its ears, whiskers, and tail are always retained, albeit their shape and size change depending on the animal it shifts to. It has also been noted that SCP-3712 typically acts similar to how it does in its original fox form. SCP-3712 appears to be no older than 20 years of age by human standards, and it is still uncertain as to how old SCP-3712 is, as it does not seem to age by vulpes vulpes standards.

Sentience: SCP-3712 displays exceedingly above average intelligence for the average vulpes vulpes, as well as a remarkably high understanding of emotional intelligence as well. It is still being tested as to whether or not it has human-level sentience.

REVISION: SCP-3712 has displayed adequate levels of human and emotional intelligence. It has been transferred to Site-■■■ accordingly.

Containment Info: SCP-3712 is to be allotted a standard-sized humanoid cell, fitted as an appropriate enclosure for its natural fox form. The walls to SCP-3712's cell are to be concrete and a foot thick, as well as the entrance. Nitrous oxide vents are to be installed, as well as heat-tracking tranquilizing darts that are to automatically activate should SCP-3712 revert into its 'wolf' form. Four cameras are to be installed in separate corners of the room. They are not required to be hidden, and per request of Dr. ■■■■, they are to be fully visible and accessible to SCP-3712.

Background: SCP-3712 appears to have always been able to shift its form, however, it seems as though it has never attempted a shift to a human form prior to its capture. It had made its home in the east of the Netherlands, where it had built a den for itself and lived for an unknown amount of time, but it appears to be from at least March of 2003. SCP-3712 appears to have had no mates, and no offspring has been found.

Capture: SCP-3712 was discovered after it was illegally hunted by a Dutch man named [REDACTED]. Upon being shot, SCP-3712 reverted into its wolf form, killing both the man and his partner. A squad was sent out after the report's authenticity was confirmed. It was restrained using [REDACTED], subdued, and promptly brought back to the Foundation.

Testing: It is advised that Level Two and higher personnel are not present during testing, as SCP-3712 will often act instinctively and with hostility, unless proper measures have been taken.

UPDATE: Dr. ■■■■ is in charge of SCP-3712's testing, and has requested that any testing on SCP-3712 to be approved by himself, and if possible, the doctor should be present to calm it. Should a level three clearance be required, please see Dr. ■■■■■■ in his place.

■■-03: Three mammalian animals were introduced to SCP-3712: A domestic rabbit, a domestic cat, and a Lemuroidea [Lemur]. When introduced to the domesticated rabbit, it morphed into a oryctolagus cuniculus, more commonly known as the Netherlands Dwarf Rabbit, seemingly unable to transform into the desired sub-species. It then proceeded to approach the rabbit before reverting back into its original form to kill it and eat it. SCP-3712's paws were retained in this transformation, alongside its ears, whiskers and tail, albeit shaped to better accommodate its rabbit form.

When introduced to the domestic cat, the same result occurred. SCP-3712 was able to transform into a feline form, however, the build, gender, and coloring of the cat shifted into was different. It did not approach the cat, most likely still full from the rabbit, and it has been noted that the cat gained no anomalous properties. No additional fox features were retained.

Per request of Dr. ■■■■■, SCP-3712 was introduced to the lemur, with the logic that it had most likely never seen such a creature. Upon encountering the lemur, SCP-3712 studied it for approximately a minute before its features began shifting considerably slower than the past two trials. It's tail retained its color, but did however gain stripes, and also retained its 'nose' in the conversion. It then attempted to study the lemurs movements, as though attempting to learn how to act like a natural lemur. SCP-3712's behavior did change slightly in both rabbit and cat form to behave more similarly to the desired species, however, this level of intelligence has not been anticipated.

More testing is required.

■■-03: SCP-3712 has been introduced to two Australian Kangaroos of different sizes, genders, and sub-species after being fed. SCP-3712 observed the both of them before repeating the process observed from Test ■■-03, choosing to morph into the larger and more dangerous of the pair, studying them similarly to how it did for the lemur. All of its kangaroo features were identical to the one it chose to morph into. Interestingly enough, it appears to have two tails in this form: A kangaroo tail, and its natural fox tail just above. It has retained its fangs, and original orange fur in the inside of the pouch.

SCP-3712 was left with the pair of kangaroos for an extended amount of time, and after an approximate hour, it behaved almost identical to them. In its last testing, SCP-3712 showed that it used its anomaly for hunting purposes, and retains all of its original fox mentality. This adaptation to copy the kangaroos is not instinctual.

■■-03: Against the will of many of his coworkers, Dr. ■■■■ decided to use himself for this experiment. He introduced himself to SCP-3712 after it had been fed, and presented himself to it. SCP-3712 seemed uneasy and hesitant about morphing into a human, and instead morphed into its feline form from experiments prior, rubbing the doctor's legs and purring as though to gain attention, much like a domestic cat. It is unsure how it learned this behavior so well, but nonetheless, Dr. ■■■■ decided to put off the experiment to play with it.

*Test ■■-03 has been repeated six more times with the more or less similar results, SCP-3712 morphing into various domestic animals to play with the doctor. It seems to enjoy its time with Dr. ■■■■, and no anomalous qualities have been noted in him. It appears capable of intelligence on how to interact with humans. What it desires from this interaction is unknown.

UPDATE: ■■-03: After seven failed attempts, SCP-3712 finally morphed into a human form. It did not copy Dr. ■■■■'s appearance, but instead morphed into what appears to be a twenty year old man with brown hair and brown eyes, approximately 188CM tall [6'2] and 88KG in weight [195LB]. Based off past experiments, the team anticipated it to have knowledge of humans and their mannerisms, but the level of knowledge it demonstrated was much beyond what had been expected.

Before morphing, SCP-3712 took Dr. ■■■■'s coat off using its lemur form, wrapping it around itself, somehow aware of the stigma associated with nudity, even managing to button it up, albeit with significant difficulty. It proceeded to copy Dr. ■■■■'s smile, posture, and even fixing the coat so to more closely resemble the doctor's manner of dressing. SCP-3712 began moving its lips and tongue as though getting a feel for human speech, studying the way Dr. ■■■■'s mouth moved and the way he spoke.

It then proceeded to say what is believed to be its name [Fundy], and hug the doctor, an action that had not been shown to it in the Foundation, and it is believed that it simply recalled seeing it beforehand. It then proceeded to learn English with Dr. ■■■■ for the next two hours, before morphing back into its original form and sleeping in his lap.

Additional Notes: SCP-3712 has shown to be generally hostile, but after several months in Foundation custody, has begun acting rather docile towards select staff, Dr. ■■■■ the most notable demonstration of this. Dr. ■■■■ has claimed SCP-3712 as his 'son', and begun teaching it more human speech and mannerisms despite warnings from his teammates. SCP-3712 has not attacked the doctor as of yet, but SCP-3712 remains a wild animal, and it is uncertain if this is to remain. No psychological or physiological side effects from spending so much time with the SCP have been noted on Dr. ■■■■.

SCP-3712, despite its animalstic nature, has demonstrated either extreme manipulative abilities or simply average human child emotional intelligence, seeking the company of Dr. ■■■■ and his attention, and has developed enough basic human speech to communicate basic wants to him. Some of its favorite words as of ■■-■■-2020: Wiwbar [Dr.■■■■] and Ream [Dr. ■■■■■■].

UPDATE: SCP-3712 has advanced far beyond basic baby gibberish, now speaking in a mix of basic and advanced sentences. It has been decided by Dr. ■■■■■■ and Dr. ■■■■ that it be moved to Site-■■■ alongside other sentient humanoids. Dr. ■■■■ has been asked to transfer to Site-■■■ to remain alongside SCP-3712. It is awaiting approval.

TRANSFER: APPROVED ON ■■-■■-2020

Chapter Text

NOTICE: THE REQUESTED DOCUMENT [SOOT-■■-■■-2016] IS OUTDATED. INFORMATION PROVIDED MAY NO LONGER BE CORRECT.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING DOCUMENTATION HAS BEEN CORRUPTED.

Site-083 used to be fairly normal.

Wilbur had been assigned two SCPs on his first day the second he stepped into the West Wing on top of Fundy, so one could say he was already mildly distressed. But that was alright with him. He liked the constant rush of work anyway, and seeing as how most of the SCPs in the West Wing were generally peaceful, he had no qualms with the sudden workload. Compared to Site-046, the humanoids were actually quite harmless.

"I'll be back later today, alright Fundy?" He said to the fox that was still exploring his new cell, which had been designed more for human use than his previous one. "They gave me some other SCPs, so it'll take me a while to get settled in." The fox's joints started moving unnaturally, snout becoming shorter and head elongating. Soon enough, a young man sat in its place.

"Be careful, Wil," Fundy replied, still busy going through all the new features of his cell, but now with human thumbs. "See you tonight." Surprisingly, Fundy seemed to be taking the move a lot more calmer than Wilbur, hardly caring about the abrupt shift at all.

Wilbur had to admit he was a little jealous of his attitude, but then again, he supposed this site was more or less the same for Fundy, seeing as how he'd merely be stuck in a different room to pass the time than Site-046. And while Wilbur was more than grateful to transfer alongside what had now become one of his closest friends to a much, much safer site, it still hurt a little to say goodbye to the 'Soot House', as they called themselves.

And so Wilbur made his way throughout the unfamiliar halls, heading towards SCP-7360's containment cell, his latest charge. Wilbur had read up on its files on the flight over, and it seemed to be an overall easy first job for his first day. It was already contained, tested, and generally non-hostile, so Wilbur supposed the only thing he had to do with it for today was meet his partner and do the a shit ton of paperwork before he moved on to SCP-7880.

"Need help?" Came a casual voice from behind. It sounded rather raspy and quite frankly a little teasing, but Wilbur appreciated the sentiment behind it nonetheless. His jet-lagged state was prepared for a fellow scientist when he turned around, or at least a human being. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of a completely diamond-shaped man, they're grin only widening upon hearing Wilbur's yelp of surprise.

"SCP-0014," The diamond man said cheerfully, extending his hand out for Wilbur to shake. "But you can call me Skeppy." He wore the usual white SCP uniform, the logo on his hoodie having been drawn over with sharpie so that it was replaced by a strange, blocky face. His eyes were literally sparkling as he looked Wilbur over, 'hair' styled upward into a somewhat fashionable way. His wide grin was a little hard for Wilbur to distinguish against the rest of his lustrous face, just like all his other features, but Wilbur eventually overcame his mild, tiredness induced shock.

"Nice meeting you Skeppy," Wilbur said, going for a smaller smile of his own as he shook the SCPs hand. "I'm the new doctor from Site-046, Wilbur Soot. You can just call me Wilbur if you'd like."

He was perhaps a little stiff, but the notion of having SCPs free to wander the facility still didn't sit quite right with him, even if this one had been deemed completely safe. Perhaps it was because he worked in a site where even the 'safest' SCPs were always out for blood, or because he simply hadn't gotten to know Skeppy that well yet. Now that Wilbur had finally met him he didn't seem all that bad, although his files did say he was a bit of a troller, and judging by this first introduction, Wilbur couldn't help but already agree.

"Well Wilbur," Skeppy said with a smirk that made it clear he should not be trusted with sharp objects, making his way over to stand besides the significantly taller man to look at the map he was fumbling about with. "Where you heading to?"

"SCP-7360," He answered, both hoping that Skeppy knew where he was and that he wouldn't lead him to someplace else if he did. Based off the twinkling in his eyes, Wilbur couldn't be quite sure just what his excitement was for.

"Oh, I love Techno man!" Skeppy exclaimed, beckoning Wilbur back the way he came with an easy laugh. "Yeah, he's real cool, I'm sure you'll get along great. He can be kind of stiff sometimes though, just a heads up."

"Well I hope he likes me," Wilbur tried for a chuckle, but thankfully Skeppy chose to ignore the awkwardness in his voice as he was lead down the hall towards the cell. Skeppy had begun carrying the conversation after that until they arrived, which Wilbur supposed he was grateful for, but was rather confused when the SCP wanted to go into the observation chamber with Wilbur. He did eventually cave into Skeppy's demands, letting him into the chamber to see the pig hybrid resting calmly atop his bed, not asleep, but definitely seeming as though he would like to be.

"Hello SCP-7360," Wilbur said, activating the comm system in the chamber. "My name is Dr. Wilbur Soot, your new researcher. Pleasure to meet you." The SCP's eyes darted towards the speaker installed into his walls, tilting his head upon hearing Wilbur's voice. 

"Hallo," He said in a strangely monotone voice, although his face seemed rather pleased with the new company. "My name is Dave, by the way, but I'm sure you already knew that. Nice to meet you too." Skeppy snickered from besides Wilbur, moving closer to the mic for Techno to hear him better.

"Hey Techno!" Skeppy practically shouted, causing Techno to jump and eyes to widen at the sudden disturbance of the otherwise peaceful conversation. "Did you miss me?" The pig hybrid quickly got over his initial shock with a smirk, relaxing himself back into his previous position.

"Not a bit," He replied smugly, causing Skeppy to splutter through his laughter, seeming ready to start bickering with the SCP once more. They were promptly interrupted, however, by the sound of the observation chamber opening, the figure that walked in bearing a welcoming smile. He was blond, average height, and bearing a strange hat on his head.

"Hey Philza," Skeppy said, easing his way out of the chamber and slinking out the door behind the man, that mischievous twinkle back in his eerie gem eyes. "See you around Wil." And with his goodbye, he slid the door closed behind him, leaving Wilbur a little confused as to what just occurred. He found he didn't have much time to think on it though, as Philza extended his hand out for a shake.

"So you're Doctor Soot, yeah?" Philza asked warmly, looking Wilbur's rather tall frame over with calm, observant eyes as he nodded. "I'm Doctor Phil Watson, the other researcher for Techno. Most everybody around here call me Philza, though. Nice meeting you." Wilbur wasn't quite sure why, but he already liked this 'Philza' guy, matching his smile with a grin of his own.

"Yes, but please call me Wilbur," Wilbur told him, letting his hand slip out from the shake, taking note of how he seemed to be Level Two clearance, the same as him. "You seem like a nice guy Phil. I hope we can get to be friends." Philza only chuckled, nodding.

"You don't seem half bad yourself," Philza replied, moving his mouth to say something else before a monotone voice spoke up to join the conversation.

"So am I just going to have to keep listening to you guys or can I, like," Techno spoke from his spot on his bed, now angled so that it actually seemed like he wanted to become an active participant in the conversation. "Actually be a part of it." Philza chuckled, turning to speak to Techno more like an old friend than an experiment, conversation flowing easily, even with Techno's natural awkwardness.

Wilbur didn't actually get any paperwork done that day. He found himself too caught up with his fellow researcher and new charge, enjoying himself much more than he thought he would in this new location than he expected. Philza was quite enthusiastic and friendly, and he found that Techno was also just as amicable behind his mundane tone, the three of them quickly getting along quite well. The only reason the conversation was cut short was because Philza reminded Wilbur of his second SCP for his first day, offering to take charge of his most pressing reports as a 'welcoming present'. Wilbur didn't doubt for a second that the trio wouldn't become close friends.

Wilbur rushed through the mostly empty halls once more with the directions Philza had given him for SCP-7880, the 'bee boy', as they liked to call him. Not as much was known about this one compared to Techno, seeing as how it was quite new, having only arrived at the Foundation a mere two weeks before Wilbur's transfer. Testing was still ongoing according to its files, and was either unable or unwilling to speak. The only reason he was in Site-083 in the first place being because it seemed human enough, even if it didn't speak. This one was going to be significantly more difficult than Techno, certainly, but Wilbur couldn't help but find himself mildly excited for his new task.

"Are you Dr. Soot?" A deep voice asked, shaking Wilbur out from his thoughts, fatigued body turning to face the dark haired man calling out for him. He was nearly as tall as Wilbur, surprisingly, hair thick and fluffy atop his head, which bore a welcoming and warm smile. His brown eyes were wide and pleasant, a sort of tiredness visible in them despite his attempts to cover it up with his kind smile.

"Yes, I am," Wilbur responded, stopping from his bleary walk to face the man. "And you might be...?" Even though he was a new doctor, he doubted his name would have gotten around so quickly through the facility, even if it was quite smaller than his previous one. The man only smiled, smoothing out some of the wrinkles in his lab coat to make himself look more presentable.

"I'm Dr. Eret," He said with his deep, quiet laugh, beckoning Wilbur to follow him through the door he just emerged from, which Wilbur now realized was the observation chamber for SCP-7880 that he'd been searching for. "I probably wasn't in your report, but I'm the researcher you'll be replacing. I just wanted to meet you, you know, to make sure he'll be in good hands." With a flourish he opened the chamber, pointing inside towards the one-way glass that over looked the bee-boy's containment cell.

"He's a kid," Wilbur mumbled, seeing the tiny boy scratch some sort of pattern into the dirt of his cell, arranging picked flowers on the ground in some sort of childish artistic endeavor. Eret nodded besides him, watching the brown-haired child as well, the antennae and hive system a little too creepy for Wilbur's liking.

He had to be perhaps eleven or twelve, his big, black eyes giving his otherwise human face an eerie vibe that his frown and sharp fangs did little to help. Some of his bees suddenly buzzed around his ear, distracting him just enough for some of the others to lay themselves on top of his drawing without him noticing, outlining it so that when he turned back around, he could see his little project come to life. A simple, innocent laugh graced his lips when he saw. The report had said nothing about its age.

"You can go in and meet him if you want," Eret suggested, after a moment of Wilbur merely staring at the SCP. "I promise his bites aren't as bad as the report says they are. He does scratch sometimes though, so you have to be careful." Eret chuckled, demonstrating his array of scratch marks littering his hands and upper arms. How Wilbur hadn't noticed the slight swelling of of his right arm until now, he wasn't sure, but Eret nodded so encouragingly towards the child that Wilbur found it hard to say no, even against his better judgement.

"Only for a bit," Wilbur muttered, understandably apprehensive about stepping into the Level 2 SCP's chambers. "I suppose I'd like to know him anyway." Eret grinned, opening the door to exit the observation room and back into the hall.

"I'm glad you're my replacement," Eret said as he gestured for Wilbur to follow him into the double door system, causing Wilbur to give a slight tilt of his head. "I might not be the best judge of character, but you seem to be a good guy. I don't know what I'd do if I left Tubbo with one of those awful researchers."

"W-Why thank you," Wilbur responded rather stiffly, Eret's compliment surprisingly genuine, despite how nonchalantly he said it. "But is the- Did you name the SCP?" Eret's finger hovered over the button to open the SCPs door, or 'Tubbo', as he called it. They looked at each other for a second before Eret smiled sheepishly.

"He seemed to like it," He muttered in that deep voice of his, thumb pressing down lightly on button for the door. "I know you're not supposed to, but I like giving the sentient ones names. Helps me work, I guess." Wilbur was about to retort, but bit his tongue, watching the compassionate man as the door opened.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Wilbur chuckled back, stepping slowly into 'Tubbo's' cell, mind wandering to the whole reason he transferred to this Site in the first place. "I do the same thing." A smile graced his lips as he recalled his friend, now contently settled into his new containment cell. Fundy said he didn't actually have a name before Wilbur started calling him by that, but enjoyed it nonetheless, eventually finding himself loving what was originally a pathetic attempt at replicating human speech.

The door closed behind Wilbur, leaving him trapped in the SCPs room. The boy was staring at him with those abnormally large, pure black eyes of his, baring his fangs when Eret took a step closer with a snarl. His bees immediately picked up on his mood, falling into a defensive pattern around him, ready to sting at a moments notice.

"I brought a friend Tubbo," Eret said calmly, not daring to approach the SCP any further, instead waving and talking with the boy from where he stood, several meters away. "He's new here, so it might take a while before he gets settled. You're going to be seeing a lot of him, okay?" The report Wilbur had been given hadn't been too clear as to whether or not the SCP understood human speech, and from what he had read, it appeared as though he were more animal than human, so Wilbur fully expected him to merely continue sitting and watching them. To his surprise, Tubbo's head nodded, still not taking his freakish eyes off the pair, although his bees did relax ever so slightly.

"Hey there," Wilbur said cautiously to the small boy, who only continued looking at him with distaste, shifting from his spot on the ground into a standing position. "My name's Dr. Soot, but a lot of my friends just call me Wilbur. I'm going to be your researcher too, okay?" Tubbo continued staring at the new doctor, hissing at him when he lifted his hand to wave. Not the friendliest SCP, Wilbur noted.

"Come on Tubbo, don't be like that," Eret said pleadingly, taking a step towards the boy, who now shifted his glare to the researcher. "He wants to be your friend too, I promise he won't hurt you." One of Tubbo's bees shot forward and stung Eret right on his exposed hand as he took another step forward. He winced, but it appeared as though its venom wasn't strong enough to actually cause him much pain.

Tubbo made some sort of sound from his throat, and while it sounded much like a growl, it appeared more as though he were attempting to speak with them. He eventually grew frustrated, crossing his thin arms across his chest, watching the pair with displeasure.

"He's in a bit of a sour mood today," Eret supplied, although Wilbur had the sneaking suspicion that he was usually like this anyways, and his presence didn't exactly help. "Wilbur can stay all the way over there if you like, but we really just want to be your friends. So please no more stinging?" Tubbo huffed, neither relaxing nor becoming more hostile as Eret took another hesitant step forward.

Wilbur watched as Eret took another step, pausing just enough so that Tubbo didn't freak. Bees began swarming dangerously near Eret, but the doctor paid them no mind, holding his hands up for Tubbo to see. The SCP growled, an actual growl, not a crude attempt at speech, as though giving Eret one final warning before he added more scars to his already sliced up arms.

"I- I don't think-" Wilbur muttered, catching Tubbo's attention once more. Or Wilbur thought he did. It was hard to tell when he had no pupils.

"Hey Tubbo, how bout this," Eret said, crouching down where he stood slowly as to not startle the child, getting onto a knee so that their eyes were level. "I don't know when I'm going to see you after today, and I just want to say I'm going to miss you, okay? Dr. Wilbur's a nice guy, he won't hurt you either. Now, you don't have to, but I'd like to do that high-five I taught you. I'm not going to move a muscle, but I just wanted to say bye one last time before I go Tubbo." Tubbo stared at him, unblinking.

When Tubbo's hand started moving, Wilbur was sure Eret was five seconds away from getting his face sliced clean off from his sharp claws. His breath hitched, and Eret's eyes closed, and Wilbur fought every urge in him not to run up between the pair. Cautiously, Tubbo brought his hand forward, softly placing a hesitant hand on top of Eret's fluffy hair. He moved it stiffly, as though he were petting a dog rather than a human, a crisp, bright laugh escaping Eret's lips. Tubbo smiled as well, bringing his other hand to rest upon Eret's significantly larger ones in an awkward high-five.

"Thank you Tubbo," Eret laughed, absolutely bursting with joy from the small boy's affection. "I'm really going to miss you." Tubbo stopped tousling the man's hair, Wilbur having relaxed significantly until Tubbo's eyes flitted over to gaze at him. Or at least that was what he assumed, seeing as how his head turned to face him.

Tubbo said nothing to him though, instead wrapping his arms sheepishly around Eret's torso, much to both the researchers' surprise. Wilbur's gasp was all but ignored, a small voice coming from Tubbo's mouth in an attempt at human speech. If Wilbur thought about it, he could make out the faint, childish words: "Miss you too." Eret stiffened, not daring to hug the child back as Tubbo let his arms fall from Eret, continuing to stare the man down.

"T-Take care, T-Tubbo," Eret said, attempting to remain calm but choking on his words every once in a while. Tubbo was pouting, nodding along as he kicked the dirt underneath his foot, watching Eret stand back up and dust off his coat. He turned back towards Wilbur with a bittersweet smile, sparing Tubbo yet another glance through teary eyes as he left the cell for what might be the last time.

"Goodbye," Eret smiled with a wave, and Wilbur couldn't help but think that Dr. Eret was perhaps one of the kindest men he'd ever met. He genuinely thought nothing could change that.

~~~

Wilbur had been living at Site-083 for nearly five years now.

He went through his morning routine with the usual pep in his step, eating his portioned meal quickly before making his way towards Tubbo and Tommy's shared cell. He'd made good progress with Tubbo's speech yesterday, excited to begin teaching him reading now that he'd been diagnosed with dyslexia. Wilbur couldn't help but hum the tune Tommy had gotten stuck in his head as he walked through the halls, bidding good morning to some fellow researchers as he passed by.

He approached the cell, reminding himself that he also had to deal with another one of Techno's ravages later on, about to make a note for it before he realized that the door for the 7880 observation chamber was... Open. His brows furrowed, face falling into a confused frown as he approached. Dream said he was going to be busy with that George SCP today, that he wouldn't have time to drop by. As far as Wilbur was concerned, he and Dream were the only two charged with Tubbo and Tommy, so there should be no reason for anyone else to stop by.

Cautiously, he pried the door open enough to see who was inside. He couldn't restrain his gasp, nearly dropping his clipboard when he saw the white-eyed figure inside, staring blank-faced at the two SCPs. If Wilbur hadn't know better, he would have said he seemed almost... Sad. Upon hearing Wilbur's sound of surprise, he turned, face as stoic as always.

"Good morning Dr. Soot," Eret mumbled, returning his attention back to his former charge and Tommy. "I'm sorry for the break in protocol. I'll be... Out of your hair soon." And just as he said, the once delightful man quickly turned back towards the exit, brushing against Wilbur briefly, almost hesitantly before leaving.

"Hey, Eret?" Wilbur asked, unsure of how to speak to the man that was once his friend. Eret paused, turning to face Wilbur with a slight look of surprise. Wilbur's fingers fiddled with his clipboard as he stared at the man, now so different ever since his 'incident'. The report had said that there were no physcological changes in him. The report Ⱡ¡ⅈǝƉ.

"Yes?" Eret asked calmly, adjusting his glasses so as to cover his eyes once more, the faint glow still visible to Wilbur despite his attempts to hide it. Wilbur's breath hitched, but pushed forward anyway.

"Would you like to see him again?" He asked despite his better judgement, although he was much to curious as to whether or not Eret would accept. "It has been an awfully long time. I'm sure he misses you." Eret paused at that, lingering at the doorway as he turned to face the bee boy again.

"No, I only came to see SCP-7883-A," Eret said in that same professional tone Wilbur had become accustomed to, although was it just Wilbur's imagination, or did he seem rather upset behind those glasses o his. "Tubbo is no longer my charge; I have no business with him. Have a good day Dr. Soot." And with that, Eret took his leave, leaving Wilbur stunned in his place, eyes falling back onto the two boys. Wilbur couldn't help but resist a smile.

Eret had called him Tubbo.

NOTICE: DR. SOOT HAS BEEN REPRIMANDED FOR THE SPREAD OF MISINFORMATION PROVIDED WITHIN THIS CORRUPTED DOCUMENT.

Chapter Text

Subject: SCP-0817

Class: Safe

Status: Detained

Threat Level: 3

Containment Level: 2

Classification: Humanoid

Age: 20 Years

Gender: Male

Height: 175CM/5'9

Weight: 68Kg/152lbs

Blood Type: A-

Date of Birth: 12/28/■■■■

Origin: [REDACTED], Mexico

Abnormality: SCP-0817 has a known two faces that it can switch between, one a regular, humanoid face, the second having a distinct lack of facial features besides strange blovky eyes and a bracket-esque smile. It also has the ability to 'glitch' its body, so that limbs or pieces of its body temporarily detach themselves [sometimes several bits at a time, but never the majority of its body] and reappear an undetermined amount of space away.

SCP-0817 also has the innate ability to produce a substance similar to Nitrous Oxide, functioning in much the same albeit with some rather unsettling side effects. As such, SCP-0817 is immune to Nitrous Oxide, and is resistant to some other small amounts of other practical anesthetics. It is unable to stop production of this substance [from henceforth deemed SCP-0817-1], but is able to control the amount that is released while conscious.

SCP-0817-1: SCP-0817-1 can cause unconsciousness in extreme amounts, although this takes a visible toll on SCP-0817. Should SCP-0817 not control the amount produced, it is typically only strong enough to cause hallucinations and a euphoric intoxicated state. Those inhaling SCP-0817-1 will typically find themselves easily provoked into a fit of laughter, similar to laughing gas. Whenever SCP-0817 glitches its body, SCP-0817-1 is released in greater amounts.

Lingering side effects that have been recorded from inhaling SCP-0817-1, although whether or not these effects are present seem to be outside SCP-0817's control. Those finding themselves under it's lingering influence may or may not experience for an indeterminate amount of time the inability to stop smiling in an odd manner.

Sentience: SCP-0817 displays average human intelligence, alongside emotional intelligence.

Containment Info: Due to SCP-0817's nature, in place of Nitrous Oxide vents, Halothane is to be used in its place, although a higher pressure is required for desired results. To prevent the subject from glitching out of its cell, its cell walls are to be thirty CM thick, and three other smaller walls on its exterior, with fifteen centimeters of space between.

Background: SCP-0817 was discovered during an incident in [REDACTED], USA. It's hometown is in [REDACTED], Mexico. SCP-0817 is Mexican and is fluent in both Spanish and English

Capture: Due to an influx of abnormal behavior in the area, scouts were already in place, searching for the SCP that was causing the spike. On break, Agent [REDACTED] had chosen to eat lunch at a local restaurant where SCP-0817 was also located. The agent had accidentally left their equipment to locate the anomaly on, causing SCP-0817 to glitch.

SCP-0817 was quickly and easily secured, with no loss or injury of SCP Foundation personnel life. It was later discovered that SCP-[REDACTED] was the one causing the influx of anomalous activity, not SCP-0817.

Testing: Level 6 testing with SCP-0817 is permitted, although it is recommended that staff are not present during experimentation, as SCP-0817-1 may alter their state of mind and allow it to escape. There must always be staff on duty that are enable to be influenced by SCP-0817-1 during experimentation.

Per request of Dr. ■ ■■■■■, all of SCP-0817's testing logs are in his custody. Given the low importance of the SCP and Dr. ■ ■■■■■'s high status, this permission has been granted. For access to SCP-0817's testing logs, please contact him.

UPDATE: SCP-0817's testing is now considered classified. Dr. Bloque is no longer permitted to give these documents.

Additional Info: SCP-0817 is quite notably a showman, and even in custody makes a point to make staff and personnel laugh even without the use of his anomaly. Admittedly, it is quite funny, garnering the attention of Dr. ■■■■■■ and Dr. ■■■■, alongside several other doctors. Despite its loud behavior, it has quite rapidly befriended several of the SCPs it has been introduced to and a handful of doctors. Experiments as to whether or not this ability is a part of its anomaly have concluded that it is not, and that this quality is merely his personality.

SCP-0817 prefers to wear a beanie to cover its hair, and this permission has been given seeing as how it has no effect on its containment. SCP-0817's name is Alex [REDACTED], although it also goes by the name of "Quackity," as well as "Big Q." Even SCP-0817 is unsure as to why many have taken to calling it Big Q, but enjoys it nonetheless. This is also not a property of its anomaly.

May researchers be remY¤úÏ4úÕ‹|¢.‰žçe referred to as SCP-0817, and all reports documenting "Big Q," instead of SCP-0817 will be considered invalid.

It is unknown as to how SCP-0817 acquired its anomalous properties, however, it hÖV1*¾nÿ¤e cooperative in the hopes that perhaps it might be 'cured' and allowed to return to its previous life. It seXÔ{ç±:a°iwts inability to control SCP-0817-1 unpleasant, and does not enjoy using it on people. The same cann$ûgâðäå±³•ú\WÕü¸dÌðhÚility to switch faces, however, as it seems to enjoy startling staff immensely, and finds its ability to glitch fascinating.

When SCP-0817 finds it necessary, it has proven to be a very reasona!EuüÜdþ‡c Ž²˜ÞñŠ]¹Æ'|Ê%&ome a lawyer before is discovery. It seems to be willing to cooperate with staff, however, does not trust the majority, proven by Test ■■-06. While it is to be kept in quaran̴̨͔̗̜͍̮̱̳͙̙̾͆̕ͅẗ̸̹̈́į̷͔͉̫̘͚͕̻̱͋͒́̆͗̆̓̈́̕͜͝ņ̸̯̬͚̫̗̺͈̗͉̋͒̓͆̚͜ȩ̴͇̭͇̤̐̈́̈̓̇͌̽͆̚ ̴̢̧̱͖̺͚͌̎̂͝d̸̬̓͐̑̉̀̉͆̈̕̚͠u̶̜͕̖̠̼͚̹̟͋̑̍͐ͅe̶̡͖̟͕̗̮̬̪̤̖̠̥̳͆̉̇͒̓̈̈́̓͗̇͘ ̸̡̼͖͔̗̮̲͈͕̖̼̙̦͓̱̏͝t̸̗̭̃̒ơ̵̡̢̖͉̬̞̦̬͕̮̣͖̈̂͌̈́̐̿͌̄̃͗̇͜͜ͅ ̶̡͉̻̭͉̖̹̳̰̭̘͈̹̠̈́̅̈́͗̉̿̎̆̎̾͛̓̕̕͘r̶̺̗̹̙͉̀̔̊̿͐̿̄̽͗͜͝͝î̴̡̝͈s̷̨̤͍̭̟̦̣͓̪̜͖̲̜͚̫̒̆̊ḱ̴͈̹͚̠͐̔̈́̋̆͒̽̆̕̕͠ ̸̢̞̯͉͕̼͎̣͒̔̕͠o̸̡͚͈̲̻̠̥̽̿̓̈́͂̎̔̉͂̋̽̎͝f̵̧̱͚̯̱͙̾̃̔̔̿̋̌̌̉ͅ ̶̩̗̝͙̠̎̈́̽͛̅̇̏̽͂̈̚͝a̸̧̧͎̣̺̬͉̱̲̦̩͓͚̦̾̇͊̉̿̀͌͛̌̀͝ ̷̨̘̜̝͓͓̮̬̙͎̱̻̈́̏̅͜c̸̨̦̜͉̯̥̬͛̏̓̈̄̌̐́͐́͝ͅo̴̺̗̙͕͐̀͐̓̂͋̔̆͐͠n̶͖͇͓͓͈̤̫̉̓̒̽͜t̴̰̺̬̓͐̍̓͆̓̉͐͌̃̒̔̔ͅå̴͓̿̾͒̈́͑̏̽̎̅͝í̶͉͓̯̞͚̹̮̻̣̏̍͂̎̀̉̓̈́n̵̬̱̽̆̀̀̔͋̈̒m̶̡̧̞͉̭͕̮̳̻̠͋̈e̷̛̖̖̣͓͎̱̺͈̘̱͋̍ņ̴̗͍͇̪̳̫̙̈́̐̓̽̓̏̀̋̓͆͘͘t̵̤̞̣͙̱̝̤̣̲̜͚̙̥͌̀̿͌̋̃͑̔͒̈́̈͝ͅ ̶̢͈͓̺͚̖̪̙̃̊̅̄̉̓̕͘b̷̨̢̹͇͇̥̦̰͒r̵̼̖̭̻̘̘̝̱͗ͅė̵̡̧̖̺̬̱̯̔̋̓̒̔̅̅ͅͅa̴̤̱͔̖̼͚̔̑c̶̣̙̟̙͚̑͂̇̽̄̽̂̏͂͠h̷̨̗̜̬̪͕̬̓̃̉̔͌̓͠͝,̵͖̩̇̕͝ ̴̛̱̟̫̕ş̴͍͉̹̠͙̺̝̩̝̀̓͊̈́̆̇͜ţ̵̢̖̺̠̹̳̩̠͉̱̝̘̫̾̌̂̆͆̓͝ͅḁ̶̛͚͔̯͇̥͖͙̮̌͗̌̋͌̋͆̓͋̾̔͜͠͝f̵̧̧̛̪͇̱̱̬̥̼̥͙̞̭̑͂͒̋̾̄̿f̶̗̈́̌͊̓̍̀͝ ̸̧̱͉̖͓̻̯̞̺͈͋̎͊̌̿̈́̐̐̾́̂̌͝ą̶̢͕̝̟̲̇͊̇͗͜ͅr̶̖̓͋̄̍̐̄̓͋́̑̓̓̕ḙ̷͕̻̱̻̳̻͕̯̝̝͖͂͗̈̽̔̇̈́͜͜ ̶̨̨̡̣̟̣̰͔̘͍̺͎̯̙̒̄͆̈́̒̀͗̓̈̅̚͠ã̴̛̟̼̻̻͊͗̆̎̌̀̚͜͜ḻ̶̢̖̳̩̮̹̓̍͑l̴̟̳̼͖̲̟̈́̒̚ō̵̧̗͈̼͇̗̬̰̤͚̙͎̍̐̉̿̏͋̿̎͋͒͝͝͝ẁ̸̨͙̲͚͕̦̝͔͉̭̞̐͑̽̆̒̎̈̍̾̚͜͝͝͝͝e̷̡͖̫̩͇̣̠̭̝͓͓̖͉̤̔̽̃̽̏͐̾͝d̴͕͎̩̜̯͈̦̬̄͗̊̾͆͂͌̑͘ͅ ̴͉̙̒̈́̋̈́̉͆ͅt̵̩̼̳͍̣̠͉͕̫̞͉̩͕̜̋̈́̋ͅo̵͓̱̝̜̱͕̤̒͌͊͐̈́̈̐̅̔ͅ ̶̻͗͑̋͑̀̉͊̽v̸̮̟̫̙̦̝̺͗̑͐͝ĩ̷̛̬͖̭͓̮̘̥͇͆͊͗͐̃͐͋s̴̲͈̮̤̻͖̋͌̏͋̅̊̋͌̕ͅî̸̜̯͓̪̘̼̥̥̠̐̇̍̈́̈́̿̏̎͝͠͠ț̷̛͙͙͙̫̭̹̰̏̓̐̐̉̊͒͘͠ͅͅ ̴̹͓̋̓̐̿̌͌̋͆̒S̵͕̝̱͙̭͌̅̿͊̓̌͒͋̈͌͋̑̒͠ͅÇ̸̤̭̤͚͓͙̩̘̦̘̮̃͋̍̒̈́̓̾̈̃̇̐̂͌́P̵̫̥̃͋͗̾̈̔͂̈́͋-̵̛̠͙̱̃̿͑́̽͂̂̈́͒̂͗͛̕0̴̡͈͉͔̘̫̘͇̘̹̘̬̼̑8̸̡̡̛͎͙̩͎͔͔͉̖̤͍̻̪̋͑̐͒͋̾͑̏͐͑̈1̶̨̧̣͚̼̞̯̼̤̗͚̉͛̎̈̾̓̕̕7̷̡̡̢̼͔̤̞͕͓̙̲̙̪͎̈́̒̇̾͐̏͐̓̒͘͘͘͝ ̸̗̋͘į̵͇̪̖̝͍̗̅̄͑̓̊͋̕͝ͅn̴̲̹̏̓̈́̓̊̃̐̕̚͝ ̸͚͕͇͇͕̖̜͇̑̈́͐̃͘͜t̴̪̠̰̖̞͖̊̏͐̆̐̚͜͠h̷̛̘͙͖̰̤͇̞̜͔̿̿̄͒̈́̓̽͌͠ͅͅë̵͍͉͔̣̗̤̤̬̦͔̭̯̖ ̴̨̨̝͍̮̰̱̲̌̿̇͐̌̅̓͋̉̒̆̓͗̚̕ǫ̷̹͖̠̘̭̯́͗̊͗̾b̶̧͎͚̬̲̟͉̈̄̈́͐̌̄̊͘ş̷̻̯̭͙̥̟̮̖̼͇̬̪̩̇ę̵̢̠̱͖̖̅͆͐͛͛͝ř̶̮͋v̵̞̙͚͖̾a̶̢̢̛̳̙͍̩̩̙̪̼̥͓̘̎̈́̍̈́͌̑͒̎̕͠ͅt̸̡̧̧̼͔̯̫͈͔͇̘͚̜̹̻͗i̵̡̧̢͇̝̙̞̙͍̻̝̳̒̚õ̷̦̦̖͖̹̰̳͋͜ǹ̶̬̮̼̘͙̫̘̠̬̽̇͒̊̂̈́͊̽̀͘͜ ̶̨̲̖̳̼̮̫̖̫̳̭͑̎̈́̃̂̎̔̊̐̕c̷͕̳̭͗͋̽͛̆̎̇̉͒̉̈́͒h̶̛̠̘̼͈̣̙͚̼̩̮̼͎͒̒̄̈̉͒̾̽̓͋̂͘͝à̵̡̼̼͓͖̩͇̗͓̬̖͐͗̅̚m̴̤͙̗͛̏̊̽̈́̚b̴̭̝͊̌́̈̋é̵̢͕̜̬̝̩̳͈̇̓̈̏͋̔͝͝r̷̨̛͕̱̞̜͓̟̰͙͕̦̦̙̙̲̈́͆̉̽͂͆͘ ̵̧̼̦̦͖̩̜̭̖̝͍̖̈́͛͌́̋͆͂̿̃̐̕͝Í̴̢̟̺̖͈̝̓̓̅̈́̋͋̎̓'̷̨̧̮̬̩̪͉̱͙͖̗͚̻͆ṭ̶̝̲̎̂̊͜ͅ ̸̢̨̮͉̤͖̳͚͙̭̾̎͋͒̑̒̊̈́̾͐̏͘͝Ç̴̥̩̹̝̳̝̝̤̙̄͝f̸̡̦͈̯͎͉̬̮̔̊̈́̏̐́̂̔̑͜͝¸̷̛͇̤͛͊͆̍̾͌̿̿̂̆̏̋̒͝ž̵̛̠̼̹̾̃͆̚̕‡̵͔̋̆̓̃̅̍̔͛̆̽̃̑̆̕ö̶̪̖̻̲̦͕͒ͅ ̵̘̮̲̻͍̘̈́̿͗̆͑̃̃̈͊͝Ý̶͎̱̬̱̥̰͌͋̉̔̈́̚͜W̶̰͍̻̭̳͇̊̍m̴̦̘͔̜̫̱͈̟̳̥͎̝͙̖̋̾̓͌͗̔̏̿͋̄͆́̈́͘ˆ̷̧̨̺͉̰̠̭͉̮̩͉͇̪̗͋̎͝ ̴̡͉͔̝͓̟͍̭̯͉͈̣͋ͅ'̷̛̺̪͇̪̮̠̦̻͍̔͋͐̇͋̒̍Ö̶̰͍͚̩̠̪̟̌͑̊̐̃͒̈́̊̈́͘2̴̮̿̄͛̂̈́̊̿͒̈́͂͑̇̋̕;̶̛̯̥̗̭͚̪̟̱̠̩̰̜͖̽̈́)̶̱͑̎͒͐̍͊͂͗̌͘̕͠͝P̵̧̜͗̊̔̆̎̐̾̍̃͘͝Ų̴̛̛̰̳̰͉̲̮̰̦̬̮͗̐̒̏̔͂̌̊̊̋¬̷̼̩̞̲̙͉̲̩̮̙͉̋̋̌͆̀͌̀̔̒̚ͅ...̵̢̡̧̟̗̫̠̜̚¢̸̜͎̰̙̰̘̖͈̀̔̾̈́͛)̸̢̨̜̱̺͉̤͋͗̈͋͆̂̿̈̈̓̚͠͝)̶̞͗̊͌̐̉̆͌͂̔͘È̷̘̟̱͕̮͙͕͙̠͍̱̈́͊̌̚]̴̨̫̻͚̰̹͔͉̤̞͔̅͜8̵̺̭̥̪̹͇̩͇͎̞̭̠̪͕͛̋̀͑͊̅•̵̢̲͉͚̝̣̗̣̹̼̖̭̈͋̃̔͆̃̿̓͌͠͠ð̵̷̡̢̥̝̞͍̜̜̻̥͍͚̻̜͍͓͕͓̗̘̖͖̞̪̝̬̳͈̥̈͛̐͗͝ş̵̛͕͇̌͛̔̂̽͗̄̊̿

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WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED

SHUTTING DOWN

~~~

"Shit, shit, no!" Dream cursed underneath his breath, the mouse making a crunching sound as a crack appeared under the man's tight grip. "I can't let them get Big Q, I-I can't-" His breathing was loud as he scanned the document that was quickly vanishing before his very eyes, eyes wide and pulse racing as he tried his damnedest to recover the document. 

"Where is he, where the hell is he!" Dream hissed, once again trying to access his friend's location, but just like before, the system shut him down. Dream cursed at the stolen laptop, slamming it shut and dropping it unceremoniously on the cold, hard tiled floor of the supply closet he found himself in, scratching and pounding at his mask. He fucking promised Quackity he wouldn't let them get him, he promised everyone. Quackity was their one shot...

There was a soft footstep outside, and Dream whipped his head around to face it before he could let any tears fall. The man grit his teeth upon seeing the doorknob of the closet jiggle.

The Foundation Guards opened the door. There was nothing there.

Chapter Text

Dream was one of the Foundation's most extraordinary recruits. This wasn't just his ego, either, even though George would fervently insist it so; Dream had been the youngest ever to be promoted to Level Three clearance, not to mention the whispers that he would soon be promoted to Level Four. When Dream first began directly working with SCPs, he was assigned to Site-083, and perhaps it was his ego speaking, but he thought himself fully capable and perhaps even over-qualified to deal with the sentient humanoids at the time.

He was quickly proven wrong.

"I know you can understand me SCP-0014." Dream tapped the microphone repeatedly, causing the shiny, reflective diamond boy on the other side of the glass to scrunch its nose at the disturbance. "Come on, just answer some of the questions, it'll make it easier on both of us." Dream huffed when the diamond man turned his back to the glass, rubbing his eyes, realizing that the lack of sleep from last night was most certainly not helping his case.

"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way," Dream insisted, emerald eyes watching fascinated how the SCP's rocky surface shifted when it moved intently. "Answer what I need to know, and I'll see if I can get you something you want." The SCP paused, curling in on itself slightly where it sat on its bed.

"I want to go home," It muttered underneath its breath, so quiet that the microphones in the room barely picked up on it. Dream stiffened, unsure how to respond to this. He merely continued staring at the SCP, unsure how to proceed. Getting it to cooperate was so much more difficult than he had anticipated.

There was a soft rap at the door, causing Dream to whip his head around to see who had caused the disturbance. "Dr. Bloque, correct?" A tall, brown-haired man asked, already having invited himself inside with a soft smile adorning his face. Dream nodded stiffly, sheepishly turning away from the stare of his dark, blueish gray eyes. Dream huffed, continuing to stare down the uncooperative SCP.

"Mind if I give it a try?" The doctor asked, with a surprisingly soft tone considering how low his voice was, standing by Dream expectantly yet seemingly so amicable at once. Dream hesitated before awkwardly stepping aside for the other doctor, looking at him with his wide, green eyes as the doctor cleared his throat to speak with the diamond man.

"Hello there, my name is Dr. Eret," This 'Eret' figure said, speaking fluidly and warmly, Dream relaxing slightly and how friendly the voice seemed. "You're Zak Ahmed, correct? Sorry about Dr. Bloque; He's new around here, so don't worry yourself too much about him." Dream made a sound somewhat like a muffled choke, wanting to defend himself before being silenced by Eret's peeved gaze.

"When can I go home?" The sound was quiet, Dream nearly having missed the hopeful voice over the cackling of the speakers. Eret's expression softened at the question. The diamond man turned around so that Dream could once again see its face, its eyes such a strange sight to look into. For a bunch of carbonized rock, it seemed almost sad.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Eret admitted, sounding rather sad and hurt himself, as though the information was painful for him to say as well. "I hope you can understand why. We have to keep you out of the public, and if we let SCPs back out, well... Not all of them are as nice as you." The SCPs shoulders fell, clearly crestfallen, yet turned around fully for the doctors to see anyway.

"Yeah, yeah I... Understand," It breathed, sighing as it leaned back and slumped against the wall, clutching the fabric of the SCP uniform tightly as it hugged itself, looking up at the ceiling of its new containment cell solemnly. "I just- So this is it?" Its voice cracked on 'it', as though still not caught up with its new reality.

Dream felt a twinge of pity for it before quickly reprimanding himself with a scowl. Forty-eight percent of all Foundation staff deaths or injuries could be avoided by maintaining a distance with it and following the SCP-handling guidelines correctly. Rule One: No attachments to the SCPs. Although Dream didn't agree with all aspects of the protocol, per se, he still pursed his lips into a thin line as he continued to watch Eret with narrowed eyes. Eret pretended not to notice.

The doctor turned away from the glass, instead pausing to answer the SCP by placing a ginger hand atop the microphone, glancing at the new recruit beside him. Dream stared right back at those gray eyes of his during the silence that followed, fiddling with his coat sleeve awkwardly. Eret smiled upon seeing Dream's nervousness, even having the audacity to chuckle at his nerves before swiftly stepping out of the observation chamber, leaving a stunned Dream behind.

"Where are you-" Dream spluttered, quickly running after the whom Dream was sure ditched him, voice catching in his throat as he stared wide eyed at the man who was now standing before the door to the SCPs cell. "Are you insane!" Dream hissed, narrowing his eyes at the doctor that was using his key-card to gain access to the SCP's cell. Eret turned towards him with the same smile from before, gesturing for Dream to follow.

"Just chill man," Eret grinned, something mischievous sparking in his soft eyes. "Consider this your unofficial training." Dream continued staring at the man that was so blatantly disrespecting protocol, letting his fingers rest upon the side of the metallic door to the observation chamber as he seriously considered following the man to the cell. His finger twitched, knowing full well that even this SCP could very well kill him... But his rambunctiousness practically begged him to enter the possibly dangerous SCP's cell. The adrenaline Dream got by merely considering it was enough to convince him.

"I'm blaming you if this gets me in trouble," Dream grumbled, the other doctor grinning stupidly with a cheesy laugh as he unlocked the door, revealing the diamond SCP inside. Dream might have frozen up a little when those blank, reflective eyes met his, needing Eret to give him a gentle push inside for him to loosen up. They merely stared at each other for a while before their gazes snapped to Eret, who had begun approaching the SCP carelessly.

"What do you-" The SCP choked on its words, moving from its slouched position and scooting farther away on its bed when it noticed Eret approaching. "What do you want?" Eret immediately stopped walking towards it, instead smiling amicably at it before waving.

"Just to stop in and say hi, I promise; Bloque, don't be a dick, tell Zak hi." Dream did not like neither Eret's sudden bossiness nor how casual he was being with the SCP. Dream might be a stickler for them, but he certainly wasn't stupid. Those rules were put in place for a reason, and a big part of it was so that the doctors wouldn't grow attached to the SCPs. Growing attached to them was dangerous, especially mind-altering and psychotic ones.

"Hello... Zak," Dream eventually caved after much expectant staring from Eret, who smiled widely at Dream like they were already the best of friends. The SCP looked at Dream cautiously, but was notably less reclusive than before. That was to be expected, but still, Dream couldn't help but be hesitant about this whole ordeal, especially the part where Eret walked straight into the SCPs cell with the least care possible. They hadn't even properly tested it yet; For all they knew, it could kill them right where they stood.

"Now, don't tell anybody, and I mean anybody , this," Eret said, either purposefully ignoring Dream's internal dilemma or merely ignorant to it, continuing with the conversation anyway as he stepped towards the SCP. Dream's eyes widened a little at how close Eret was getting to it. Did this man have a suicide wish or was he simply too naive? One wrong breath and this Eret figure could wind up with an unbreakable diamond twisting his neck.

"But there are ways to get out of the cell-" Eret was promptly cut off before he could finish.

"Are you fucking insane!" Dream finally snapped at him, breaking Eret's sentence off before he could reveal it. "Telling it would ruin the whole point of the system! Stop being so chill around it, it's a fucking SCP, not some charity project!" Honestly, why did he even come here in the first place, this man was clearly under the influence of something . He cursed his own recklessness.

"The system is flawed, Clay," Eret said, in that low tone with narrowed eyes that indicated the matter was not up for discussion. "I've been here much longer, seen things you couldn't even begin to imagine. So trust me when I say I know what I'm doing. I know the consequences if I'm wrong. I know of consequences worse than death." Eret turned his attention away from the confused yet hopeful SCP towards Dream, who was left with his argument caught up in his throat.

"The system keeps us safe though," Dream retorted weakly despite the creeping eerie sensation running up his spine. "It sucks, but it keeps everyone safe." Eret snorted at that, resting a hand on Dream's shoulder, as though to ease some of the tension that had built up.

"We can be better than the Foundation though." Eret wore an easy, hopeful smile, but somehow in those deep, empathetic eyes of his Dream couldn't help but stiffen. "This is how you can sleep at night. Just trust me on this one, okay Clay?" Dream blinked at him, looking once more at the dark blue of his irises. They were... Reassuring.

"Fine, but I'll report you if diamond boy tries anything." The SCP tilted its head at the statement, clearly having been intrigued by the brief conversation, but remained silent. It watched Eret with wide eyes as it tried to refrain the corners of its mouth from rising upon seeing Eret's grin.

"There are a few ways to get you out of the cell," Eret whispered, grin audible even in his deep, calming voice. "You wouldn't be able to leave the facility, but as long as you demonstrate good behavior and have the recommendation of a Doctor or two, I can get you roaming permission." The diamond's eyes widened ever so slightly, jaw parting in mild surprise.

"What do you say to that Zak? Willing to go through with some threat-determination tests?"

"Please," The SCP hadn't even hesitated, no longer trying to hide his smile, the lustrous surface of his glistening skin shining a bit more brilliantly for a moment, mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Call me Skeppy."

~~~

"How long you been working here?" Dream asked, poking the food this 'Eret' gave him around with his fork, sitting rather stiffly at the man's table. The older scientist's room was comfortable enough, granted he was a Level Two, boasting nothing more than a small fridge and microwave for a kitchen, as well as his bed and desk, with a small bar-like wall separating the two 'rooms'. Dream had reluctantly agreed to follow Eret back at his offer for dinner. It was definitely reluctantly. Of course it was.

"About three years, I'd say." Eret himself wasn't eating, instead merely drinking some water while filling out some documents at his desk. "You just came two weeks ago, right? Sorry for not introducing myself earlier." Dream nodded despite Eret having his back to him.

"Don't worry about it," Dream mumbled, more for politeness' sake than anything. "I'm used to everyone being a pair of dysfunctional dicks anyways." This caused a hearty chuckle from Eret, who tilted his head back as he wheezed. Dream smiled despite himself, even huffing along with Eret's contagious laughter.

"Am I a pair of dysfunctional dicks as well?" Eret asked humorously in that deep voice of his, grinning softly as he glanced over yet another document. Dream shrugged, the action catching Eret's eye just enough for some white to show behind his lips as the grin grew. Dream tried to hide his own smirk by gulping down some more water. What could he say, Eret was rather comfortable to talk to.

"What was the whole deal with that SCP, anyway?" The question caused Eret to stop flipping through the pages between his hands before catching himself, continuing, albeit much slower than before. "It was a solo-assigned SCP; My first, actually. You really shouldn't have been there." A soft tapping sound filled the momentary lapse in their conversation, Eret's finger bouncing gently against the hardwood of the desk, the man quietly thinking over his answer.

"He." His voice was rather uncharacteristically quiet, Eret's gaze unfocused as he stared at the headline for his current paper, an SCP-7880. "Skeppy is a he." Dream scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Skeppy? Really?" Eret's gaze narrowed, and Dream might have felt a little threatened by the action from the man in sequined pink slippers, although he would never dare admit it.

"Yes, really," Eret bluntly replied, letting the papers fall from his grasp as he turned to face Dream directly, an unreadable expression present on his face. "Talk about him with respect, please." While Eret's tone hadn't seemed hostile, Dream shied away from him, sheepishly going back to poking at his food.

"Alright, sorry," Dream grumbled, some of the icy air between them thawing. "What's the whole deal with Skeppy ." The older man huffed, clearly not pleased with Dream's tone, but it seemed to satisfy him well enough.

"There were rumors about a new SCP detained today," Eret explained, resuming the finger tapping Dream hadn't even realized had ceased. "Heard that he was passive, relatively weak, so they were assigning it to a newbie. Heard that it was just living a normal human life." Dream's jaw fell slightly as his eyes widened, Eret once again ignoring the newbie's expression in favor of continuing his story.

"But it's a rock- he's- How?" Eret nodded to Dream's stutterings, a silent gesture that silenced Dream's questions as he continued.

"We're not really sure how he managed it, but I decided to investigate him." Eret's gaze fell to his finger, the slow, methodical motion captivating Dream's attention as well. "That's when I found you. You were just following the protocol, I don't blame you for that, I suppose. But I've been around long enough to know that SCPs like Skeppy, the human SCPs..." His voice trailed off as his gaze unfocused yet again, the tapping abruptly stopping.

"What about the human SCPs...?" Dream asked cautiously, voice quiet so as not to startle the doctor. Eret hummed sadly, now fiddling with the page of his previously dropped documents, staring at it sadly. Dream couldn't remember any mention of SCP-7880 from neither his tour nor orientation.

"They're abandoned." Eret sighed, fingers clutching the paper perhaps a little too tightly, crinkles forming along its edges. "Treated like trash, dehumanized, forgotten. Left to rot either physically or mentally in their cells." Dream shifted in his seat, a quiet 'oh' escaping his mouth.

"So, I try to help where I can." Eret's thumb rubbed the surface of the SCP file he was clutching softly. "Find the human ones to at least try to reach out a hand, like with Skeppy." Eret set down his stack of papers, burying SCP-7880's file underneath the already large stack. Dream slouched in his seat as he gave himself a moment to process Eret's words.

"How do you tell the human ones from the-" Dream bit the inside of his lip, fork laid practically discarded alongside his food. "From the monsters ?" At this Eret smirked, something warm returning to his cold gray eyes, so reassuring and familial. He smiled mischievously, that typical smirk of Eret's that cause Dream to grin as well, as though they'd been friends for much longer than the past few hours. Although they weren't friends, of course not. Acquaintances, definitely.

"You'll learn how," Eret reassured, and Dream suddenly felt included in something more than himself, the strange, gray-eyed doctor voice promising and welcoming in a way Dream hadn't realized he'd already grown accustomed to.

Needless to say, Eret and Dream quickly became close friends after that.

~~~

"SCP-8811, is your interior structure human, or merely a humanoid?" The human-shaped void remained sitting calmly, blank, glowing white eyes piercing Dream with an intensity that shouldn't have been possible from a void. It did not smile, but Dream assumed it was being smug, as per usual.

"I do not possess the weakness that comes with human's feeble make-up of flesh and blood," It replied just as smoothly as always, causing Dream to scoff and roll his eyes at the SCP. Now Dream was no psychiatrist, but this particular SCP seemed to have a particularly severe superiority complex.

"But you are a humanoid that acts human, with a human interior structure to keep you in a human shape," Dream insisted, growing increasingly aggravated with the void SCP. "So clearly, there is something human-like inside you, and I want to know what or who it is." If nothingness could be disdainful, Dream reckoned that this one would be the most condescending and patronizing expression he ever saw.

"I am unconcerned by your wants," The void replied smoothly, causing Dream to groan and pinch the bridge of his nose, so close to succumbing to his instincts and bashing his head against the table. The void did not blink, merely continuing to watch Dream lose it. Knowing the fucker, it was probably enjoying it too.

"So that thing inside you." Dream's exasperation was obvious now as he twirled his pen between his hands. "It's always been a part of you? You were created, born, or whatever with it already there?" It did not respond.

"Alright, well this is getting us absolutely nowhere." One day, Dream swore he was going to punch that face-less face square in its jaw. "Next topic, then: It's been noted that you have 'fits' of sorts, where you remain unresponsive and seemingly in distress-"

"You are wasting my time." The void did not shift its tone, but it definitely sounded like it was scowling. "Please, leave." Dream groaned, running his hand through his hair as he stared into the SCPs glowing white eyes. As per usual, it did not move, stare remaining fixed onto Dream's figure. Dream really hadn't known what he expected, asking about its fits.

"You're the worst, you know that?" The SCP didn't respond, and perhaps it was Dream's imagination, but its eyes seemed to be narrowed at him. "I know you like to pretend they don't happen, but I have multiple instances on the security footage-" The void suddenly stood from its seat, startling Dream slightly as it jerked to its feet, boring its infinite eyes down upon him.

"Things are going to go very miserably for you very soon, you piteous life form," The void spoke harshly, not moving its ensnaring gaze away. "Now leave my quarters at once before you infect me with your calamity." Ominous and demeaning, just like always.

"Pleasure as always, SCP-8811." Dream attempted for a smooth tone, although his disdain must have slipped into his voice as he got up from his seat. Usually, the void would immediately turn away from indifference, yet for some reason its gaze remained tracked onto Dream. The scientist quirked a brow at the void, not anticipating the deviation from their visits. The void may have been the mother bitch of all bitches, but it was a punctual and repetitive one. It did not deviate from its asshole-ish habits.

"Wanted to say bye or somethi-?" The void started shaking. Dream yelped, taking a step back when its hands began visibly twitching on the table, eyes widening the longer it shook. It began slouching, curling in on itself ever so slightly as it shuddered, albeit the action was minuscule and hardly noticeable to the untrained eye.

"SCP-8811 exhibiting abnormal behavior!" Dream screamed at the comms, although this only seemed to dishevel the SCP further, causing the trembling to worsen as its glowing white eyes began to dim and brighten. "Repeat, SCP-8811 exhibiting abnormal and unknown behavior!" Dream's breath hitched as he backed away towards the door, the SCP merely continuing to buzz, seemingly in a daze.

Just when Dream was about to panic, the shaking stopped, calm washing back over the shadowed SCP. Dream's breath hitched, the SCP resuming its regular behavior by purposefully turning to face the wall instead of Dream. The pair remained silent. Dream coughed with a dry throat to catch it's attention.

"Are you okay-?" This was instantly met with a growl.

"Leave."

Dream left.

~~~

"Sapnap!" Dream exclaimed, rushing in for a hug as soon as he'd stepped off the tram, pulling in the shorter male close in a tight embrace. "Long time no see man!" Sapnap cackled, an airy sort of laugh that exuded energy, reciprocating the embrace just as tightly, if not more so, shaking Dream about wildly as he did so with a devilish grin. Sapnap pulled away, eyes sparkling with excited enthusiasm giving Dream little time to orient himself as he dragged him away from the station.

"It hasn't been that long, you fucking dumbass." Sapnap's playful banter came easy between them, garnering a laugh from Dream as though they'd never been separated. A warm smile passed over Dream's lips, vivid memories resurfacing from his first encounter with the man. A newbie agent accidentally brought in an SCP that ended up in Dream's research field, his boldness and humor rubbing off on Dream. But Dream supposed Sapnap had been right; It hadn't been that long since they'd last seen each other, even though it certainly felt like it.

"Whatever man," Dream laughed, giving Sapnap's arm a light punch that it seemed he hardly noticed as they continued the trek through the unfamiliar halls of Site-549. "How old are you turning today, anyway? Thirteen?" Like the mature twenty year-old he was, Sapnap flipped him off instead of tackling him to the ground like their first encounter.

"Actually go fuck off," Sapnap snickered, expertly turning his bird into a wave as a scientist passed them in the halls. "You're just a stuck-up scientist using my birthday as an excuse to get off work. You're like, so fucking bad at your job they wanted you to leave." Dream could suppress the wheezed laughter that passed his lips.

"I'm here to research this new SCP, actually. You're just some added bonus." Their insults held no weight, they were both aware, the bickering continuing on seamlessly as they trekked to a more relaxed hallway, the flow and bustling of researchers, D-Class, agents, and doctors trickling to a near slow until it was calm enough to not nearly bump into someone every ten seconds. Site-549 was certainly busier than his own, he'd give it that.

So of course, when they'd nearly arrived at their destination, a fellow agent stopped them in the hall, causing the pair of them to skid to a halt.

"Agent Armstrong," The higher ranked agent paused to greet Sapnap, who dipped his head in greeting. "I see you're off early today. Any particular reason?" His eyes darted to Dream's figure accusingly before flickering right back to Sapnap.

"It's my birthday, sir!" Sapnap responded cheerily, the officer snorting quietly underneath his breath, unimpressed. The plastered smile on Sapnap's lips remained, seemingly as though to test the officer's patience. His eyes narrowed, silently threatening the man as well. The officer merely sighed and scrunched his nose.

"Sure, sure, have fun or whatever." The officer waved dismissively. "Just as long as there's a replacement for SCP-5113 whilst you're gone. Motherfucker's slippery-"

"Wait, shit, no-" Sapnap faltered, face blanching quite horribly. "I fucking- I forgot to page Agent Jacobs! Fuck, just-" Sapnap then turned to Dream with wide eyes, gesturing wildly towards the hall, Dream trying to follow his panicked gaze. "I'm sorry, I got to fucking run dude, just- Shit! Be back in two minutes tops!" And with that, Sapnap sprinted faster than Dream previously believed humanly possible with the officer yelling obscenities on his tail, leaving him stunned and speechless in place.

"Idiot," He mumbled warmly, taking a glance towards the door he'd thought Sapnap had gestured to. "Who the fuck even uses pagers anymore?" Shaking his head softly, Dream scanned his authorization card against the door frame, certain he'd gotten the door correct when it clicked open, revealing a sparsely decorated room with a handful of objects scattered around a metallic table.

Dream lingered in the hall, hesitant to enter as his eyes scanned over the objects. Pursing his lips, he prepared himself to close the door, certain that he had mistaken the room Sapnap's party was to be held in. The whole situation was leaving a rather bitter taste, Sapnap's sudden odd disappearance irking him just enough to give him a slight edge. So he gently began sliding the door back closed, eyes lingering on a porcelain mask left carelessly upon its surface with a gleam.

"You are a doctor, correct?" The voice was velvety, calm. Dream was not.

"FUCK!" He shouted, the door slamming closed behind him as he whipped around with wide eyes to stare at the intruder. It was a woman, chocolate-rich hair tucked into a neat bun behind her, captain's uniform ironed and neat against her figure. Even in heels, her stature was smaller than Dream's, yet he couldn't help but be intimidated by the pistol in her holster, her eyes shining with amusement and endearment as well something more dangerous. Her smile seemed warm, yet it did little to settle Dream's nerves.

"I-I mean-" Dream cleared his throat, the woman tilting her head and holding her hands militaristically behind her back. "Captain. Honor to meet you?" The captain chuckled, a humorous, friendly laugh.

"Captain Puffy," She introduced herself, extending one of her hands to shake, Dream sheepishly accepting, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders the more she spoke. "Sorry for startling you, by the way. You just look so serious and grumpy." Hints of red began flushing Dream's cheeks.

"Oh- I- Sorry about that ma'am," Dream fumbled out, not too sure how to respond to the woman. "I'm Dr. Bloque from Site-083, Level Two clearance ma'am. Captain. Captain ma'am." The captain tilted her head back for a chuckle, lighthearted and casual.

"Please, Puffy is fine," Puffy assured, eyes flickering to the room Dream had nearly entered with wary eyes. Her demeanor hadn't changed, although the shuffling of one of her heeled boots had caught his attention before she ceased the motion, still staring at the handle of the door with an intangible expression. She pursed her lips as she reached out, jiggling the metal softly before focusing once more on Dream, hand still resting upon the handle.

"Have you heard about the shipment from the excavation site between Greenland and Canada?" Puffy's voice was friendly, nonchalant as it had been, but Dream sensed a new kind of weight with her words. "Apparently the island itself was an SCP, all sorts of artifacts stowed away under its ice. Relatively useless, they say. Heard from some higher-ups that they're just going to ship 'em off to storage." She stared at him, eyes a dazzling color that never seemed to stay still, Dream's tongue pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth.

"I'm sorry." His foot unconsciously took a step away from the woman, the captain several ranks above his own whilst giving his head a slight shake. "But, ma'am, what does this have to do with-?" Puffy smiled, a smile reminiscent of Philza's, yet so very different at the same time.

"I directed the retrieval mission," Puffy continued, speaking through Dream's question. "Those artifacts- They're so much more powerful than you can imagine. The consequences should their power be discovered- I can't even imagine it."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Puffy smiled knowingly before gently tapping her finger up and down in a steady rhythm, the methodical beat familiar. The motion was surprising, to say the least, Dream's eyes narrowing unconsciously at the seemingly sweet woman.

"You are a respectable scientist, Dr. Bloque." She held herself high, barreling through the conversation with more firmness than before. "And from what I've gathered of you, you also hold similar... Ideologies as me. Understand?" Dream, with his expansive linguistic ability, did not answer besides a sheepish nod of his head.

"There are artifacts, SCPs in that room," Puffy breathed, leaning in and standing on her toes towards Dream's ear, her sharp words sending chills down his spine as he lowered his head to hear her whispers. "That could bring about the end of the world we know. Now, I ask this of you in the utmost confidence Clay: Unlock this door and help me erase the existence of one of the artifacts, please. I've seen you have the clearance for it."

"Why the hell would I do that?" Dream scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he took a step back once more. Puffy huffed through her nose, once again going back to tapping on the handle.

"Please, Clay." For the first time, Puffy sounded small, pleading. "You'll have a Rank Three Captain in your debt and her squadron at your service. You might not have a reason to trust me, not at all, but please trust E-" She sucked in her breath. "Leaving those artifacts alone- Clay, it would be disastrous to us all. There are things at play here that you don't want to know, trust me on that at least. Should that artifact remain, nothing will ever be the same."

The captain's eyes shone, practically imploring Dream with their shifting colors as he gazed down at her. She stood so worriedly, although despite her pleading she did not appear fragile in the slightest. Dream's own impulsiveness was practically pulling him to accept, to see the artifacts for himself and discover just what they could do. If not for that, but to at least ensure that no such artifact existed. The silence was stifling, even for him, yet he still hesitated.

There were so many unknowns, namely, why the captain wanted such artifacts in the first place. There was also the troubling notion that, if what she said were true, why should Dream trust her with such a powerful SCP at all? His tongue pressed against his firm teeth, the genuineness of her expression casting aside some of his doubts. Perhaps he should've been more worried about that. Dream was known for cautiousness, especially against psychological SCPs, but at the moment, all he could be reminded of was Eret in her kindred yet worried eyes.

So with a stiff nod and the beaming expression of the captain, Dream slid his card back into place, unlocking the door whilst telling himself that it was just to see for himself. To avoid such a powerful, insignificant artifact from falling into the wrong hands. Yes, that was it, Dream decided, and not his own natural curiosity as he cautiously strutted into the dusty room.

There was a soft kitten-like sneeze beside him, Puffy practically bee-lining for one dusty table in particular, eyes shining warily as she cautiously reached out for one in particular. The colors of her eyes seemed to swirl slower, Dream biting his lip as he tentatively poked an artifact that had caught his eye. The smiling mask made a gentle clink as his finger tapped against it. A breath of relief he hadn't known he'd been holding released itself when no explosions, brain parasites, or other undesirable ends to humanity came from the action. So touching one of the potentially most dangerous weapons of destruction was cool, it seemed.

"This one," Puffy mumbled breathlessly, shrugging off her coat awkwardly whilst never taking her eyes off the tarnished metal, the original bronze color dusted blue with age over centuries, millennia of neglect. She gazed in awe at the delicate relic, a headband, it seemed, adorned with a pair of delicate, curling horns that wrapped around the ears. The points were dulled, yet despite this, still fine enough to draw blood as they coiled downwards, quaint and modest jewels and gemstones glimmering in the natural grooves of the horns. Despite her desperation to enter the room, Puffy seemed to want nothing more than to continue staring at the regal decor.

"How do you even know what it does?" Dream asked, the thought occurring to him humorously late as he stared at Puffy, the woman's eyes still twinkling warily of the object she had yet to grab. "If the Foundation had tested it, they'd surely be all over it, no? If it's as powerful as you claim, of course." His hands once more found the strange mask, now beginning to fiddle with the worn strap between his fingertips. Dream's emerald green eyes met with the dark dots, perhaps staring at it longer than necessary as he pursed his lips.

"An agent of mine used one of the artifacts," Puffy replied firmly, as though trying to distract herself from her task at hand. "It went unreported, since they didn't appear to be SCPs. No side effects, physical or psychological at first. Later, in confidence, they reported to me strange occurrences. Faulty memory. Skipping hours, days at a time. Awakening in places they'd never seen before, strange dreams plaguing their mind."

"Doesn't sound as threatening as you previously described." Puffy exhaled as she chuckled at Dream's crude response, fingers trailing the embedded, gentle chains of the horns.

"That agent gets visions, sometimes," Puffy continued with her drawl, seemingly more disturbed by the headpiece than before. "Of some nameless, achromatic place with near infinite power in between reality itself, just waiting to be tapped into through these artifacts. They claim each artifact can only access a small portion of the Inbetween's power, the agent able to ignore the fabric of time itself with just a small one." She gestured towards the room around her solemnly, Dream hitching his breath as his eyes settled back onto the headpiece in Puffy's hand.

"And the horns...?" Dream's eyes widened, staring at the mask in his hands with a newfound respect, lips parted agape in awe. Puffy nodded behind him, her hands betraying her anxious gaze, letting her jacket fall limp in one hand as she reached out the other to gingerly brush the dust against one of the coiled horns.

"It's the centerpiece,  the crowned jewel of it all." Puffy held the horned headpiece steadier in her hands, as though it might disappear should her grasp falter, although her gaze remained perturbed and uneasy the longer she stared. "Their worst vision was of a figure with these horns, causing the very sky to crack under thunder and lightning from a single gaze. A queen, in control of the Inbetween itself, and all the power in it." Her fingers twitched.

"Well that was certainly a lot to take in." A whistle passed his lips as he let his hand graze against the porcelain-smooth surface of the ancient mask before him, for all but a moment enticed with curiosity of what strength lay in its smile. "Definitely wasn't expecting handling reality-ending trinkets tossed in a supply closet on my agenda." The captain's glittering rainbow eyes amplified the gleam of the bronzed horns, her composure and restraint firm, yet clearly deaf to Dream's words.

"So, how are we going to get rid of that?" Tilting his head to look behind him, he saw Puffy's body stiffen, jewels glittering dangerously, hypnotically. Dream furrowed his brows at Puffy's lack of an answer, continuing to rub the mask that fit easily in his hands. A part of him was itching to put it on, although the urge was stronger than his typical curiosity. His thumb rubbed apprehensively against its smooth rim.

"Get rid of it?" Puffy eventually echoed, curled and puffy hair bouncing as she began rocking on her feet. "No, I don't think something of this caliber would appreciate that." Dream frowned, gasping as Puffy turned around to reveal her glittering rainbow irises glittered with gold. Too late, Dream realized that her hands were gradually raising above her head from behind him.

"The crown needs a queen," Puffy whispered breathlessly, lowering the centerpiece over her head. A sharp breath flooded Dream's lungs as he whipped around, the mask nearly falling out of his grasp as his eyes hastily landed on the captain. More specifically, the headpiece's ancient brooch that was nearly clasped around her head, thin, flowing strands of decorative jewels already draping against her forehead.

"What the hell are you doing!" Dream hissed, hands trembling awfully as he debated whether or not to reach out for her, to stop her. Yet he stood still, the captain remaining silent as the garment rested easily on her head. The sight was almost natural, the horns seamlessly curving against her skull, headband all but obscured within her lush dark hair. And perhaps it was just Dream, but the jewels seemed all the more bedazzling than before, shimmering brilliantly in the dusty light.

"Y-you're insane!" Dream huffed, taking a panicked step away from the woman whose eyes fluttered open with a soft exhale. Her aura was different than before, although Dream couldn't place just how, only staring deep into her once ever-changing eyes. Irises reminiscent of a pale night sky coated in gold greeted him, flecks of ash littering the breathless netherworld she had become. She held herself higher, calm and regal, as though this was the moment she was destined for. A part of Dream even believed it.

" I feel... " Her head tilted to the side, as though listening intensely to something unbeknownst to Dream, gaze lost yet focused as her nebular eyes drifted aimlessly around the room. " Different. " Dream sucked in a harsh breath as Puffy's soft exhales filled the room.

"You certainly look fucking different." Dream shuddered when Puffy directed her attention back to him, humming gently in the air, voice carrying melodically. She seemed calmer, more peaceful than before. The commander from before was still there, radiating confidence and prowess that Dream had come to recognize as traits of the powerful woman. Now she exuded power on an entirely different scale; Both figuratively and literally.

" Let me help you, duckling, " She mumbled warmly, so maternally that Dream was lost in her kindness he hadn't known he'd wanted. When she approached Dream, he hardly even realized it, her feet gracefully gliding against the floor with her signature sharp clacks, yet so elegantly at the same time. Dream stood still, merely watching somewhat stunned and engrossed as she gently eased the mask in his hands up towards his face.

Had it not been for his original liking towards the object, the unnatural itching to wear it, his own stupidity, or perhaps a million other factors that converged on that moment, Dream wouldn't have allowed Puffy to press the cool porcelain of the mask against his face, the material bending to contour to his profile. As it was, he knew he wasn't in his right state of mind.

Dream always believed one could never be too cautious. Yet here he was, screaming when his vision suddenly clouded white, falling to a miserable heap in the arms of a captain-turned-SCP.

How ironic.

~~~

Dream chalked the incident up to his own carelessness. He claimed that he had mistaken the room for Sapnap's birthday room, tried on the mask thinking it was a poor attempt at decoration to scare Sapnap when he returned from his impromptu trip. Thankfully, the escape of SCP-5113 caused just enough of a diversion and upheaval that Dream went mostly unreprimanded.

Puffy was never mentioned. In fact, Dream never found any documentation of the woman in any of the staff files. Waves of dread washed over him upon realizing the headpiece had also mysteriously vanished from the database.

Probably wiped by the Foundation, like so many snoopers before her. Dream shuddered.

So here he was, back at Site-083. Acustoming to the mask was certainly something, Dream couldn't lie. Sometimes he'd merely drag his fingers against its glossy surface, trying to recall where the curve of his nose used to be, the feel of his eyebrows, and the shine of his eyes. Because now it seemed his eyes were in a slightly different place, somewhat bigger and further away. Dream shuddered every time he pressed his fingertip against the surface of the mask's dotted eye.

They'd done experiments and research in an attempt to pull it away. And thus far there had been nothing. Of course nothing could be done to remove it. Dream scowled behind the white, clawing at it with the quick of his nails.

Had this been the dangerous SCP Puffy had convinced him of? An irremovable mask that turned him into a marshmallow blob? A scoff escaped his lips before he could refrain, because clearly this mask had bestowed upon him miraculous, godlike powers as Puffy had predicted. Where had that woman even gone anyways, and what powers did her horns bestow upon her? If she had been wiped without a trace, it must not have been as powerful as she'd hyped it up to be.

That's what Dream told himself at least, months later, walking back to his dorm after being discharged from the on-site hospital. The latest, (and probably last) experiment done on him resulted in a minor concussion, Skeppy's karate chop to the face in hindsight perhaps not his most brilliant idea. Eret had a good laugh about it though, and despite the injury bringing about more worry to his already stress-filled agenda, Dream took pleasure in managing to make the man smile for at least just a moment. Eret was over-working, he knew, and just the thought managed to make his shoulders sag ever so slightly.

Apparently a part of Skeppy's hand had chipped off from the encounter, Dream noted, unlocking his dormitory with a sigh. Paperwork had piled up, as it typically did, and now he had to fill out the incident report of the experiment for both SCP-2404 and Skeppy, as well as the mysterious incident concerning SCP-8811. While Dream always knew there was something inside the nebular black SCP, he didn't expect that something to be a living, breathing human named Darryl. Which Dream had to admit, was significantly nicer and delightful than his shadowy counterpart.

Dream groaned as he crashed into his bed, dully wondering where the chipped portion of Skeppy's fingertip had gone. It had clearly broken, a definitive chunk missing before Skeppy regenerated it. In the whole ordeal, however, Dream didn't recall anyone ever finding the missing piece.

What did he know, anyway. He was occupied having a concussion.

Mindlessly, he morphed into the 'blob' form, the strange proportions and structure of the body somehow comforting to him. Dream wouldn't really know how to explain it, how the blob form felt, because it just felt so natural. It was as though he'd simply always had it, like an extra comfortable pair of pajamas that stayed dry when you floated breathlessly in water. Also, it was soft and funny-looking. Very soft.

He exhaled contently, the new second form allowing him to relax better than his original form ever had. Or perhaps that was merely a psychological conclusion, seeing as how he was always over-stressed with research in his original form, the blob form transformed exclusively whilst he was relaxing. Regardless, it'd been a long day and even longer night without transforming, and it alleviated some of the pent-up tension building in Dream's shoulders.

But then he coughed, something he hadn't known he could even do in this form. It was a mild inconvenience he shrugged off at first. But then it happened again.

"You're fuc-" He wheezed between his words, spluttering as the coughs became drier and heavier. " Fucking kidding me." Quickly transforming back to human, the coughs worsened, and now an unbearable scratching was at the back of his throat, dragging against his esophagus painfully as he gasped, fumbling for his nearby drink pathetically as his eyes watered behind the dreaded mask.

The water did little to soothe his throat, he soon realized, the dribbling liquid rushing past whatever object was lodged in there. His chest heaved, the familiar clenches of nausea racking his body as he wheezed, keeling over onto the floor as his throat lurched, throat burning as he retched, gasping for air as he finally, finally felt relief from the awful sensation pickling and rubbing at him. His eyes drifted down towards the plain tiled floor, the mottled white now stained with the greens and browns of his lunch, scanning for whatever had been lodged. Because something had most definitely been lodged, he knew.

A glint of something shiny caught his eye, and with that damned curiosity of his, he reached for it. With a brief cleaning of the glimmering blue, Dream held up the fingertip-sized object from the vomit with a soft gasp. It was Skeppy's missing diamond. However, that wasn't the most surprising part about the ordeal.

What was more concerning was that Dream's entire hand was crinkling softly, made entirely of diamond. 

~~~

Dream, for once, was thankful for the mask pasted to him. It hid the conflicted expression upon his face well. Last night's incident had left a sour taste in his mouth, panic settling in until he could successfully dissipate the diamond back to flesh, and even then, the unease remained. Because what if they caught him, discovered there was more to the mask than originally thought? That somehow, Dream gained the power over Skeppy's ability, something that shouldn't have even been possible. Dream shuddered, trying to forget ever being able to turn his body to diamond and back.

The very thought sickened him, his nerves frayed and fingers jittery as he entered the observation chamber. He'd had to cut his visit with George rather short today because of it, lips pursed with worry as he watched the brown-haired boy. He was scowling, clearly frustrated. Perhaps his little stunt with the blob had the opposite of the intended effect on him, causing him to hate him somehow even more than opening up to him. That was... His own fault, he decided, finger twitching on the table as he felt the crinkling of diamond threaten to show from his nerves. Dream huffed, wanting nothing more than to tell Eret about this crazy mask and its freak powers before something awful happened.

"You really like that new SCP, don't you?" Dream noticeably jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, whipping around to see Eret standing smugly by the door of the observation chamber, warm smile on his lips as his deep gray eyes looked Dream over. Relief flooded over him, some of his worries temporarily subsiding as he ran over to pull his friend in for a tight hug, noticing the stress lines etched deeper into his brow than usual, the nervous, unconscious tapping of his finger in the air as he greeted Dream with faux confidence.

"Holy fuck, Eret!" Dream exclaimed, grinning just as wide as Eret as he released the ever-slightly taller man from his embrace, sighing underneath his breath as he glanced up at him, wondering just what could trouble the man so that his eyes were clouded with guilt. "Come on, let me fill out the reports for him and we can talk. I have a feeling you didn't stop by just to say hello." Eret exhaled softly, giving Dream a weary smile as he let himself be led into the observation chamber.

Dream had always known Eret to be self-sufficient, reliable, and moral, despite the countless others that would dare to argue. Dream was always aware of the class of experiments Eret participated in, and he couldn't lie that they churned his stomach to the point he would heave at times. But Dream always knew Eret never caused more harm than necessary: His ideologies remained firm, that he would get his hands dirty for what must be done whilst causing the least harm possible. Dream was both appalled and astonished by his firmness, the strength in his moralities.

But there were times like this, where even Eret himself had lost his direction, not sure whether or not an experiment was really for the greater good. And Dream answered honestly, as he always had. This experiment, this study to pacify, brainwash SCPs did not settle right with him. Least of all should that sort of power be abused. But they both knew, unfortunately, that there was no stopping such an experiment.

"Maybe if you stayed..." Dream let his thoughts mumble, looking up at the pained and turmoiled expression displayed on his friend's face. "You're a good guy. People like you. Maybe they'll listen to you." Dream spared him a smile, and Eret tried to grin back as well, the nervousness easing as his tapping finger slowed with a deep exhale, gaze drawing to the brown-haired immortal boy on the other side of the window.

"Thank you, Clay," Eret breathed, pulling him into another embrace, tight enough for Dream to know that Eret needed it desperately. "I'll try, I promise I will." Dream smiled reassuringly at him, that part at least still visible from under his mask, thankfully. Then Eret turned towards the door, Dream's tongue caught between his tongue, desperately wanting to tell Eret of his new-found ability, yet knowing guiltily that the man already had too much on his plate. Another time, he decided.

"And hey, when you're done for today," Dream called out just as Eret was about to step out the door, causing the already jumpy man to start tapping his fingers against the frame once more as he turned back around to stare at him with owl-eyes. "Come see me in my room tonight. There's something I wanted to show you." Eret smiled at him, nodding softly as his hand slipped back to his side from the door frame.

"Yeah, of course." Dream huffed softly, grinning back at the man as he walked out the door frame with one final wave goodbye. "I'd like that, Dream." Then Eret disappeared from sight, the blue-tinted grey of his eyes lingering on Dream for a moment longer before slipping the corner, taking the kindred man along with it.

For a moment, everything felt alright. Dream let out a much-needed groan, sliding eloquent lessly into a miserable heap in the office's chair, content with merely letting himself rest for just a moment before moving on to his next SCP. The dots that were his eyes never truly closed, instead gazing unfocused at the window of the observation chamber, trailing down to the microphone, with a little red dot blaring red...

"Oh goddamnit Eret, you've got to be kidding me." Dream huffed, wheeling his chair over with an audible screech towards the microphone that the older man had turned on, presumably by accident. If Dream could pinch the bridge of his nose he would, already feeling it scrunch up uncomfortably against the pale cold of the mask. Dream wanted to groan, but he held it in, analyzing the boy in the cell that seemed awfully focused on nothing. Atypical of him; He'd usually be screaming and cursing out the Foundation.

"I know you were listening, George." His low, dark tone successfully startled George, the brown-haired boy instantly snapping his attention towards the camera with wide, doe-like eyes, caught red-handed. Dream sighed, lethargically tapping a pencil to the base of the microphone. Eret was going to owe him big time if George needed to be memory-wiped.

"Hey, um..." The feeble voice crackled from the speaker's in the observation room, Dream tilting his head to see George gulp and fidget cutely with his sheets. His brown eyes focused on the camera, and zooming in revealed a maroon fire contained by little more than something cocky in George's expression. Dream pursed his lips.

"Can I ask you a few questions, Dream?" George was oddly confident despite his obvious nerves from earlier. It seemed as though there was more to this SCP than Dream had previously been aware of.

"Depends on what you planned on asking," Dream swiftly replied, drawing absentminded circles into his desk with the pencil tip. Dream hummed into the microphone, George's brows shooting up in surprise, as though he hadn't actually planned on getting an answer.

"Well, it's obviously going to be if you can get me the fuck out of here." George readjusted his position on his bed, now standing up on it so that he could better face the camera tucked into the corner. He scoffed, tapping his finger against the glass.

"Listen, I tried getting you roaming perms and you intentionally told me to 'piss off'." Mimicking George's accent, Dream tapped his finger against the mic, causing George to back up slightly on his springy bed from the feedback. "That wasn't a test, I was genuinely trying to get you at least out of the cell." George furrowed his brows, bouncing on his heels as he glared at the camera.

"Why can't you just let me-"

"Not an option." Dream's response was blunt and stern, causing George to snarl at the camera, flicking its lens as Dream continued to watch with narrowed eyes. "There are too many risks in it for both of us, but primarily for me. You may have the luxury of immortality, but rest assured that there are several fates worse than death, and the Foundation can provide all of them." There was a decisive moment when Dream could pinpoint the color falling from George's face.

"But- But being stuck here for eternity is just hell!" George shouted back, pressing against the walls with his palms with an angry expression, as though that would make Dream any more aware of the situation than he already was. "I'll go insane, Dream! I- I can't stay here! You have to get me out!" Honestly, Dream felt bad for the brown-haired boy with those deep, dark eyes. Dream couldn't imagine the turmoil of living an eternity trapped in a 10x10 box, mind slowly decomposing and losing himself to time.

Dream sighed, clicking a nearby pen by the microphone, enough to get George to scowl at him. The immortal was right, he'd lose his mind slowly, forced to be an aimless husk, wandering with no purpose for the foreseeable future. The masked man clicked the pen in, clicked it out, thinking. It wasn't fair to keep George locked up in here, any of the human ones, really, but here they were.

The clicking continued, and Dream could practically see animated anger lines on George's face at the noise. A part of him wanted to help George, he really did. But at what cost? A memory wipe and expulsion would be the best outcome, however, Dream's own containment was far more likely if he dared to attempt to help him. Dream shuddered at the thought of any outcome worse than those, the clicking stopping.

"The most I can get you is hallway privileges." George scoffed at that.

"Can't you pull some strings or something?" Rolling his eyes, George gave the camera another good flick, not that it disturbed Dream's feed. "Seriously, you think you'd be nicer to the guy blackmailing you." Wheezing laughter escaped Dream, causing George to furrow his brows, nothing less than complete confusion visible on his face.

"What's so funny?" George asked innocently, crossing his arms in a way that reminded Dream of a child.

"Wait, you're trying to blackmail me?" Dream cackled, letting his pen drop on the table as he sniggered, chuckling into the microphone so that George had to take a step away from the speaker. "Is that what you thought this was?" George's ears turned red.

"Yes, you dimwitted twat!" Dream only wheezed more at the insult, George becoming even more cross with him because of it. "What, you think I'm going to pass up an opportunity to use this information? I have dirt on two doctors-"

"I'd think your next words over very carefully, Gogy." The nickname was said breathlessly, void of its usual jovial tone as Dream bore his eyes into the glass. "A threat to me I can forgive, but a threat to Dr. Eret not so much." For the first time, George averted his gaze.

"May I also remind you that should the Foundation find out about our little... Secret, not only will my life be terminated, but you'll undergo a complete memory wipe, resulting in you bumbling around in a box with no idea as to who you were for eternity. That is, of course, if they don't just decide to use you for experiments. It's thanks to me, after all, that you aren't picked apart limb by limb everyday. A replacement would be much more interested in your immortality than I am, and they will not stop until they have what they want.

"Now, that doesn't sound pleasant, does it?" George quickly shook his head. "There are others in this facility, doctors and SCP alike that depend on me, whose lives aren't a living hell because of what I do. Just like how you're not a pile of cells and organs, there are others here that would prefer not to be tortured for the foreseeable future. On the other hand, you could gain a very powerful ally, could gain some favors. Am I understood?"

"I-" George's brow creased and bit his lip, hand out of frame of the camera, but Dream didn't need to check another to know it was shaking. "Yes, you make a very good point." His brows furrowed again, gaze dropping down to his messed up bedspread.

"I'm glad we could come to an agreement, Gogy," Dream chirped, prepared to cut the conversation off quickly to attend Technoblade. The pig-hybrid had been getting awfully restless lately, so perhaps a friendly game of chess might do him some good. Before he could switch his mic off, though, George looked back up at the camera.

"Why don't you just memory wipe me?" He sounded gravelly, a bit tired too, but that snappish anger was still there and persistent, as though challenging Dream to give him an answer he didn't agree with. "Surely you'd rather make sure I'm unable to talk than risk me confessing. I'm a liability. So why don't you just get the job over with?" Dream paused, giving the pen that had fallen on his desk an absentminded twirl.

"I won't lie, if I suspect that you're endangering me or my friends, I won't hesitate to mandate a complete wipe." George paled, Dream restraining himself from pointing it out as he let himself think about an answer. "But I'd really rather not. They're inhumane, immoral. SCP-5400... Will never be the same." The brown-haired boy seemed to pick up on the lingering sadness in the disembodied voice coming through the speakers, looking away from the camera to stare at the ground.

"I'm sorry," The immortal mumbled underneath his breath, letting himself finally lean away from the camera to stand awkwardly on the bed. "And thank you, for everything you've done for me. If you're not being a lying asshole, that is." Dream chuckled, and although he would undoubtedly deny it, he might have started warming up to the prickly SCP.

"That's a good mentality to have, Gogy." Dream ignored how George scowled at the nickname. "Never trust anyone; That way, you can't get fucked over more than you already are. So essentially, keep being a little bitch boy and you should be good."

"I am getting very mixed messages from you-"

"Catch you later, Gogy!"

"You egotistical son of a bitch, don't leave me! We're in the middle of an important conversation!" The microphone clicked off, leaving George huffing alone with the realization that the creepy, demonic smiley-faced scientist might not actually be that bad. Maybe. Whether or not he was a decent human being did not mean he wasn't a complete asshole, though.

Left alone in his cell, George smiled, actually looking forward to the freakish doctor's next visit.

~~~

"What did you want to show me, anyway?" Eret's eyes were blindingly white, glowing faintly against the dark bags of his eyes, movements languid and coldly calculated. "If you're just going to stand there, I might as well leave." The compassion that had been synonymous with the kindred man had been all but replaced with whoever stood before him, apathetic expression nothing less than disinterested as he raised an expectant brow.

A gasp escaped Dream's lips at his uncharacteristically cold tone, watered eyed hidden behind his mask. This was not the same Eret as this morning, that was for certain, if his sudden shift in eyes were not apparent enough, not even tapping his fingers against anything. Something happened to him, and Dream resisted from clutching his heart and shaking the figure in front of him for answers before merely sucking in his breath and clenching his hands.

"I-I'm actually kind of tired," Dream mumbled sadly, lips moving into an unreadable line as he turned himself back around, away from Eret. "I'm sure you are too. Just-" There was a hitch in his voice. "I'll see you later."

"Okay?" Eret chuckled humorlessly, causing Dream to flinch from underneath his unperceivable expression. "Mind if I take these?" Dream barely turned around to see Eret gesturing at a pair of sunglasses left haphazardly on the table, nodding quickly as the man slipped them on over his unnatural eyes. The glow behind his eyes was shaded by the dark surface, partially hiding the disquieting white from Dream's vision. But he couldn't hide his shift in personality.

Eret bid him goodbye in his new dull voice, the usual deepness especially humorless as he slipped out the door, pressing the glasses up the bridge of his nose. Dream watched as he left, breathing becoming steadily heavy and uneven the longer he stood staring at the door Eret had left through. Dream trembled in place, curling his arms around himself.

"What did they-" His chest heaved, feeling as though it was closing in on him as his knees wobbled, using one of his hands to support himself on the nearby table. "What'd they do to you, Eret." If tears could leak from his face, Dream supposed they would have, as he huffed.

Dream had wanted to tell him about his newfound ability to turn himself into diamonds, somehow having mimicked Skeppy's ability with his freakish mask. The visit happened so quickly, Dream could hardly process their implications, what it meant to have Eret come to him like- That . Suddenly he felt alone, the secret clawing up at his throat at the realization his friend must have had what they'd been working on done on him: Mind-washed, controlled .

Dream wanted to scream, and he probably would have been it not for the green substance in the corner of his room wriggling.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Dream screamed at the substance starting to bubble, scrambling as he backed up rapidly with erratic breaths. Seriously, he was in the middle of having a breakdown upon the realization the Foundation corrupted his only friend and ally. Could whatever the hell this was at least have waited before gurgling ominously on the ground?

Apparently not, because not only did the green gunk not stop moving, it started growing vertically into a vaguely humanoid form. The body was horribly goopy, seemingly melting as it dripped off its composing figure that kept building up. Dream flinched and might have accidentally transformed into his blob form as globs dribbled onto the ground in awful squelches, the sludge figure only continuing to build up into a vaguely humanoid shape. The liquid-like substance dribbled down it's head as it etched a smile into its face, mirroring Dream's mask in the worst way possible.

Dream and the slime stared at each other, Dream completely lost in his panic and breathlessness as the SCP grinned at him. Then, it started to move, dripping goop onto the ground as it raised a semi-human like arm into the air. It's mouth started to move, Dream flinching away when a large glop splattered all over the tile.

"Dap me up!" It said, oddly cheerily with something shining on its mucous body substance. The two SCPs stared at each other for a dreadfully awkward moment, the slime seemingly expecting something from Dream, who remained frozen in place. The slime ignored this, now walking towards Dream with that stupid grin on his face, hand still raised.

"Dap me up!" It repeated, leaning over to boop Dream's blob face with the entirety of its hand, submerging part of its glop into the squishy blob surface. Dream spluttered, turning back into human form, trying to spit and scratch out of some of the disgusting sludge that etched its way into his mouth. The slime SCP ignored this, though, clearly pleased with what it had done, unconcerned when the white figure below him suddenly transformed into a human before its very eyes.

"You're the escaped SCP from Site-549, aren't you?" The slime, probably SCP-5113, continued grinning emptily. A little concerned, Dream waved his hand in front of its face. The SCP hardly showed any sign of acknowledgement, mimicking a blinking motion with long drawn out globs of goop over the hollowed out eye area.

"I'm just a regular, meaty guy, all 300 bones and all!" The SCP was surprisingly contagiously upbeat about the whole scenario. "No SCP slime here, nuh-uh. Only a fellow meat brother." Dream's upper lip curled and he resisted the urge to hurl as a notoriously large chunk of sludge dribbled from its face into its open mouth before gooping all over the floor again.

"Yeah, I can... See that." Dream flinched when the SCP approached, leaning in so that its hollow smile was only a few fingers away from his face.

"Nice to meet you, Dream from the Foundation! Dap me up!" The SCP raised its hand again, this time taking Dream's wrist with its gloopy hand to high-five it with a pleased expression. "It is I, human Char-lie, with a very non-gloopy message!" This 'Charlie' pronounced his name strangely, as though it were new and foreign to him. Honestly, Dream didn't doubt that it was, but nodded along anyway, wiping some of the goop congealing on his hands on his clothes from where Charlie 'dapped' him up.

"I don't even- Fine, yeah, what is it you needed to tell me." Dream sighed, still trying to rub the SCPs gloop off, trying to wipe it away on his seemingly slimier clothes. First George, then his mental breakdown over Eret, which was rudely interrupted by Charlie. Honestly, Dream had no idea what to do with the runaway SCP, instead cringing as his hand started to congeal with goo. Dream resisted another lurch, instead turning back to face the glopping form.

"Quackity from Mexico City sent me!" Dream stiffened, stopping his wiping as he stared stunned at the bouncing glob. "Yup, good old Quackity from Mexico City, fellow human friend-" Interrupting Charlie's babbling by gripping the slime's shoulders, Dream leaned in closer to get a better look at the SCP. Charlie merely continued smiling, albeit slightly confused at the change in development.

"How the hell do you know Quackity?" Dream tightened his grasp, accidentally sending his fingers sinking under Charlie's exterior like a distorted jello. "And what- Is Quackity alright?" Hopefully Charlie didn't know what a voice crack meant, and hopefully Charlie was just part of one of Quackity's jokes. If it weren't for the mask, maybe Charlie could see his wide, pleading eyes. And just maybe, it would have changed the giddy look on his face. Please for the love of fuck, he couldn't handle anything else today-

"Quackity from Mexico City is my friend! He has kept me safe and talks with me!" Finally Charlie's face fell, the etched smile from his sludge drooping into slimy glops and hollowed out eyes falling. "Quackity from Mexico City said not to worry about him. Said that Dream from the Foundation was another friend." With what Dream could only assume was pursed lips, Charlie's head drifted to face the hand on his shoulder. Tracing his gaze, Dream's breath hitched, slowly extracting his gloopy hands from Charlie's sludge. The hand dribbled onto the floor, no longer flesh, but the same substance as Charlie's body. Just like Skeppy's diamond.

"Quackity from Mexico City is not 'alright', fellow slime," Charlie drawled, apparently very upset within his limited demonstration of emotion. He tilted his head towards Dream, reaching forward to drop a small item from his body into Dream's hand, the object hardly visible through the thick coat of green. Dream's throat dried as Charlie bore into him, leaning forward and speaking in a terribly hallow whisper:

"Quackity asked for help."

Chapter Text

NOTICE: THE REQUESTED DOCUMENT [FILE: SCP-5113] IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE IN YOUR SITE'S DATABASE [SITE-083]. PLEASE CONTACT SITE-549 FOR ACCESS.

USER 08EDFA3D
CODE E-17F5A-15, 17F5A:1001-1000-1-11-1000

[ADMINISTRATOR DETECTED]

[CLEARED]

Full access granted. Welcome 08EDFA3D.

Subject: SCP-5113

Class: Euclid

Status: ESCAPED

Threat Level: 2

Containment Level: 5

Classification: Mucous Substance

Age: Unknown - Suspected 100'000 to 175'000 years

Gender: N/A

Height: N/A

Weight: 28.5KG/62.8LB

Blood Type: N/A

Date of Birth: Unknown - Suspected Pleistocene Period

Origin: Pitch Lake, Trinidad and Tobago

Abnormality: SCP-5113 is composed entirely of a green, mucous substance comparable to slime. This slime can take on any form it desires, able to contour into any object, creature, or shape feasible. Without form it is roughly 120CM³/50IN³, and seems unable to become any larger than this. When chunks are separated, it will naturally regenerate them so as to regain its lost mass. Any lost chunks will eventually shrivel away due to lack of moisture, and will typically be unwilling to rejoin the main SCP-5113 body unless SCP-5113 is extremely weakened. These lost chunks appear to lose SCP-5113 sentient ability, becoming merely globs of slime.

SCP-5113 has the ability to copy certain properties of other objects, although will always remain slimy and different from the original. Whenever SCP-5113 copies something, it tries to become as similar as possible in size, shape, and other features, although it cannot copy texture, smell, or taste. It is able to change its coloring poorly with a chameleon effect, although this coloring is only superficial and highly rudimentary. SCP-5113 is only able to change its pigment to the color behind or around it. It is suspected it learns how to copy due to ingesting a part of the foreign object. SCP-5113 also has the ability convert any object its body touches or ingests into a similar sludgy material.

Because of its gelatinous properties, SCP-5113 has the ability to traverse through solid material. Typically, this is made easier whenever there are any form of cracks or weaknesses in the material it wishes to slime through, although it has been noted that SCP-5113 can congeal through seamless material. It is capable of oozing through just about anything, and so far nothing has been discovered that can hinder such ability. Its only weaknesses appear to be its over reliance on water and moisture, as well as a fatigue in cold and to electricity.

Sentience: Subject displays a rudimentary level of thought and problem-solving ability. Subject has some capability of understanding and displaying basic human emotions, or at least copying them.

Containment Info: SCP-5113 is to be contained in an arid, seamless meter by meter container of reinforced copper. The metal is to be kept at a sustained temperature of -10° C/15° F inside a refrigerated cell, suspended from the walls by thin iron wires. These wires should be connected to a generator outside the cell, and capable of administering an electric shock strong enough to hinder and distress SCP-5113 through the box's walls in the event of a power outage. Occasionally, water must be delivered for it to absorb so that SCP-5113 does not dry out.

A guard must always be present and watching SCP-5113 in the event that it manages to traverse through its containment, as motion and heat tracking mechanisms have all failed to detect it.

Background:  SCP-5113 appears to have been formed from the tar pits of Pitch Lake in Trinidad, having formed and congealed from the pressure of an ancient SCP's remains some hundreds of thousands of years ago. Its copying and morphing properties lead researchers to suspect it is related to SCP-1411, which is documented in the attached file, Abstract-5113-A. It is suspected it emerged from the tar pits perhaps tens of thousands of years ago (or more), as it claims it witnessed the original settlement of Trinidad by Amerindians some 7000 years ago after a long period of the island going uninhabited. [SCP-5113 describes a 'short' period as some thousands of years].

It is believed it since roamed the island and adapted to various tropical plants, animals, substances, and original Trinidadian people until it gained the ability to shift, chameleon, and utilize speech for rudimentary communication. Sometime during the colonization period, it is thought to have boarded a ship that was en route to the United States, where it has since traversed the eastern coastline of the United States in search of moist climate once again.

As of the 20th century, it had settled in the city of Burlington, Vermont, seemingly content with the humid and swampy nature Lake Champlain and heating from the nearby train yard for the time being. It seemed to have wanted to master human transformation so as to ask for directions and transportation back to Trinidad.

Capture: SCP-5113's existence was discovered on 8/12/1998, when conductors from the Vermont Railway Company in Burlington, Vermont noticed inexplicable rust, rotting wood, and and slimy substances coating their rail cars and surroundings. Such sludge had been reported for years with no apparent cause, and went without investigation until a railroad worker stumbled upon a large moving lump of sludge caught between the tracks and wheel.

Agent [REDACTED] investigated the occurrence, happening upon SCP-5113 by chance after a few hours. SCP-5113 was then lured into Foundation containment with sweet-talking and promises of return to its humid island of origin.

Testing: Testing on or with SCP-5113 is strongly ill-advised due to its ability to easily escape during experiments. Testing on SCP-5113 must be approved by a Level Three clearance and appropriate precautions to prevent its escape must be ensured and tried before experimentation.

ADDENDUM: After experiment 06-KW, Level 6 testing regarding SCP-5113 is strictly prohibited, especially Class K experimentation. Utilizing SCP-5113 in experimentation with inanimate SCPs must be approved of by a Level Four clearance, and experimentation with organic SCPs must be cleared by three Level Four members.

03-OB-1: SCP-5113 has been discovered to have the remarkable ability to secrete itself through solid material. Testing with materials of various lengths, thickness, density, and opaqueness has been attempted. It appears able to pass through any solid substance at will, no matter the quality. SCP-5113 has been complying through the testing process, believing it to be a game of sorts. Experimentation failed, leaving no containment suitable for SCP-5113 for the time being. Thankfully, it is rather dull and doesn't appear to suspect that this is a ruse yet.

03-OB-2: Continued 03-OB experimentation, this time with various liquids. SCP-5113's density appears to fluctuate depending on what sort of liquid it is present in, absorbing part of the liquid to remain sufficiently 'goopy' in the containment. It seemed particularly pleased with water and oil, considering this as a reward for sufficiently passing the previous round. It is immune to damage and harm from toxic liquids and poisons, however, it seems to retain some of the liquid's properties, as contact with the SCP after exposure to dangerous substances resulted in exposure as though there was direct contact with a diluted version of the toxic substance.

03-OB-3: Desperation is now rising. Gasses have been attempted, and there seems to be no way to subdue or pacify SCP-5113 through drugs or other means. Smoke, toxins, even perfume were attempted. It has become occupied with ranking the smells while we panic and try to think of a way to contain it.

03-OB-4: Radiation was attempted. SCP-5113 is now a radioactive sludge with toxic properties. We may have made the problem worse.

03-OW: SCP-5113 complained that it was growing significantly displeased with the lack of humidity and growing cold, claiming it wasn't sufficiently goopy enough with the fan on. SCP-5113 was offered warmth in the the walk-in freezer in the kitchen. This appears to be a temporary solution, as SCP-5113 is still able to move in a viscous state, but is severely impacted in its ability to move and goop. It appears to now be aware of the deceit and is actively attempting escape.

03-OF: SCP-5113 has since been contained in the above accommodations, but despite its imperiousness to cold, was still able to traverse the thick containment in freezing temperatures. After some research and more experimentation, it has been discovered that the SCP has an aversion towards electricity due to its conductive properties that may be amplified through giving it access to absorb conductive materials, such as its iron container.

05-RL: SCP-5113's radioactive, toxic, and harmful properties from experiments 03-OB have found to no longer be present. As of the moment [1/5/1999, 21:33] SCP-5113 is completely harmless to organic life and may be able to be utilized in experiments.

01-EK: A portion of SCP-5113 was deliberately separated from the whole, although it shriveled up soon after being cut from the main body. This effect has repeated several times, thus researchers have done their analyses straight off SCP-5113's body. The exact substance that comprises SCP-5113 is unknown, however, it is most reminiscent of slimy substances comparable in texture to tar and liquid asphalt.

02-EG: SCP-5113 was deliberately given an organic animal. SCP-5113 digested it in a truly disgusting manner that involved liquefying it in its translucent body. I will not be involved in such an experiment again.

06-KW: SCP-5113 was introduced to the inanimate SCP-7125. It proceeded to consume it in similar manner to 02-EG, however, it also gained the properties of SCP-7125 [SEE: SCP-7125 for details] and proceeded to breach containment. Thankfully, SCP-5113 was electrocuted and managed to be wrangled back into containment.

NOTE: For SCP-5113's Interview Logs, please refer to [LOG:5113-549]

Additional Info: SCP-5113 has been classified as a Non-Sentient lifeform, and as such is to remain in Site-549. It has been deduced, however, that it is capable of copying basic human emotion and interaction ability, although whether or not this ability is actually felt remains to be seen. SCP-5113 demonstrates a very simplistic personality, very naive and susceptible to influence. While SCP-5113 appears to naturally be happy, it has been found that it is extremely nihilistic and fatalist, while still remaining upbeat about the demise and decay of its surroundings.

Despite its severe naivete, SCP-5113 fluctuates between distrustful and appreciative of its original captors. New doctors must be used once SCP-5113 suspects them of hurting it or show aggression against it. For SCP-5113 to remain cooperative, all those that interact with it must show a willingness to befriend it and appear to have its best interests at heart. Despite its cooperation, SCP-5113 will still deviate from orders and instructions, performing them either wrong or misunderstanding what was said. It is also rather comical.

SCP-5113 oftentimes says the expression 'Dap me up' multiple times, seemingly asking for friendship through the form of a high five? We are uncertain as to the whereabouts of this expression.

ADDENDUM: SCP-5113 HAS BREACHED CONTAINMENT. ANYONE WITH ANY KNOWLEDGE AS TO SCP-5113'S WHEREABOUTS MUST REPORT TO SITE-549 IMMEDIATELY.

~~~

The Administrator's finger tapped against the surface of the screen. The Administrator let out a faint chuckle, chucking the tablet they were using to pull this new SCPs data from the system into the abyss below. The occasional clang of metal on metal reverberating through the air as the tablet fell farther and farther down, occasionally becoming so faint the Administrator's soft breaths were louder.

Their mouth ripped into a wide grin, revealing the clenched teeth behind pulled lips. The fluorescent lights far above flickered, the rusty metal bridge hanging over the void SCP creaking and swaying as The Administrator rocked back and forth on their feet, humming a very contagious tune as they pondered the new information they just learned. The creaking intensified, the bridge threatening to snap and send them plummeting into the depths below.

"Not the most impressive of SCPs," They mused aloud, uncaring whether or not someone overheard. "But then again, it has been very annoying. Dream has managed to find himself a rather pesky ally, but it doesn't matter now." The Administrator grabbed the thin wires suspending the metal sheets from the abyss below, hoisting themselves up in a graceful and careless motion as they balanced themselves upon the pathetic chains acting as guardrails.

The position was uncomfortable, but The Administrator wouldn't have to deal with it for long. Kicking themself off, The Administrator giggled as rushing air blew at their hair, clothes flapping in the fall as the sensation of weightlessness began to overtake them. The bridge was sent flailing above them like a swing, The Administrator gleefully plummeting down to the dark depths below.

"You're a worthy opponent, Dream!" The Administrator cheered, doing a roll in the darkness once the light from the dimming lights at the mouth of the void became obsolete. "But unfortunately for you, you have no more secrets left to hide and no more allies left!" Maneuvering in the sky, they flipped about, reaching out for a spot in the darkness known only to them.

Then the fabric between reality and the Inbetween tore, taking The Administrator with it.

Chapter Text

SCP-INTERROGATION EFFORT OCT-■■-20 - SUBJECT: Dr. Philza Watson

Note: The following document is a transcript of Watson's interrogation for suspected [REDACTED]. As such, certain details have been omitted for the sake of integrity. For a record of the audio log, please refer to the file AL-WATSON-■■-■.

A LEVEL THREE SECURITY CLEARANCE IS REQUIRED TO VIEW THIS DOCUMENT

[CLEARED]

INT: Interviewer. Undisclosed for confidentiality purposes.
PHIL: Dr. Philza Watson.

[INT]: Good evening Dr. Watson, I'm [REDACTED], the one who will be interviewing you today. Hope you've been well during this whole mess we've gotten ourselves into.

[PHIL]: Don't worry, I know who you are [REDACTED], although I am quite surprised to see you here. And quite frankly, I think I'd be much better off if I could go back to work.

[INT]: Alright, dropping the small talk then. You know what you're being accused of, yes?

[PHIL]: I wish to assure the Foundation that I have, under no circumstance, aided or abetted in the containment breach of any SCP, SCP-staff, or D-Class recruit. I plead innocent to all charges.

[INT]: That's cute.

[PHIL]: Excuse me?

[INT]: This is not a court system, Dr. Watson. This is the Foundation. Now, would you also care to plead innocence to restricting and hindering Foundation progress? As well as deliberate concealment and alteration of data and Foundation records?

[PHIL]: ...

[PHIL]: You have no proof of any of those charges. I have been a diligent Foundation researcher. I report all my findings and neither have access nor ability to alter any records.

[INT]: Alright, I'll play along. [shuffling of papers] By any chance, do you recognize this SCP, Dr. Watson?

[Transcribers Note: Dr. Watson analyzes the given document for a lengthy period of time]

[PHIL]: It is familiar, yes.

[INT]: SCP-5400 breached containment just a day ago, Dr. Watson. It's a tricky fellow, a teleporting SCP, and it is extremely unlikely that it's capture will be possible within the next few months if it chooses to stay hidden. If I'm not mistaken, this SCP was under your observation briefly whilst it's primary handler's were occupied with recent dilemmas. And it was under your observation that it managed to escape.

[INT]: Please, explain how a senior researcher such as yourself managed to lose a fucking SCP?

[PHIL]: Well, it's primary researcher's clearly didn't research it enough. Not to mention the fact I was extremely ill-prepared to deal with it. How was I supposed to know it was able to teleport even with the water restraints? I had other SCPs to attend to, I couldn't have been expected to stand watch over it constantly. I was merely following directions.

[INT]: We have multiple records and tests demonstrating times when it had tried to teleport of its own volition before. If it could have, it most certainly would have at this point.

[PHIL]: I don't see why that should be my problem.

[INT]: Because it escaped under your watch! You- Whatever. Dr. Watson, even if this lapse of judgement wasn't intentional, you are still being charged with neglectful supervision to allow the SCP to breach containment.

[PHIL]: Mm.

[INT]: Mm?

[PHIL]: Mm. Can I get back to work?

[INT]: [scoff] Unfortunately Dr. Watson, your license is being... Temporarily suspended after the events of SCP-5400. We have another designation you will be assigned to promptly after this interview is finished.

[PHIL]: What! You can't do that, I have SCPs that need to be under my supervision and maintenance! SCP-7360 especially becomes particularly violent without my particular intervention, [REDACTED]. You weren't assigned to Site-083 yet, but-

[INT]: I am aware of SCP-7360's violent nature and the Level 03 experiments. I'm aware of everything that occurs in this Site, Dr. Watson. Actually, SCP-7360 is another area of questioning I would like to conduct, if you don't mind.

[PHIL]: I thought this interview was about SCP-5400's containment breach.

[INT]: Well, you thought wrong.

[PHIL]: Fine, what possible information do you need on SCP-7360? It's been my charge for years now, and we've had no issues with it aside from its rages, which have been successfully subdued and increasingly infrequent as of late. SCP-7360 should be a model SCP, so why on earth am I being questioned about it?

[INT]: There has been increasing doubts to your efficiency with the SCP. Typically, it listens to none but you. While this may not be unusual, paired with your other charge's behavior, it is rather suspicious. Your relations with the SCP have recently come under fire, and as such, we have determined to conduct and investigation as to whether or not your reports are... Truthful.

[PHIL]: I can assure you that those reports fully reflect SCP-7360's-

[INT]: Please shut up, Dr. Watson. We both know you're lying.

[INT]: Now, Dr. Watson, the Foundation would like an explanation as to why significant amounts of recordings from SCP-7360's encasement have mysteriously vanished. And upon further scrutiny, why several instances of missing files seem to appear for SCP-7360, SCP-5400, as well as other SCPs under your care.

[PHIL]: Nothing significant has happened with those SCPs, apart from SCP-5400. I can assure you any lack of recording or files is most likely due to my boredom or negligence that came with stifling through them. Most of my SCPs are well-behaved, so the constant need for supervision has since been declared unnecessary by-

[INT]: On the contrary, Dr. Watson. SCP-5400 was due to receive maximum security. Even a two minute lapse in footage raised suspicion.

[INT]: The Foundation has also been extremely interested in your SCP's 'well-behaved' mannerisms. So, an experiment was conducted during your absence today in an attempt to replicate your nonviolent results. Put simply, SCP-7360 did not respond as you described on your report. In fact, it seemed as though it was even more volatile. It was completely unhinged, and quite frankly, should not be labelled as Euclid. You should have reported it as Keter long ago.

[INT]: Were you lying on your reports, Dr. Watson? Such a drastic shift in behavior for your 'model' SCP-7360 would certainly warrant a change in Site location.

[PHIL]: What... What did they do to Techno?

[INT]: I'm going to ignore that last comment since you're already on probation. But, since it's no longer your charge, what happens to SCP-7360 no longer concerns you.

[PHIL]: [sounds of chair crashing to the floor] SCP-7360's MY charge! You can't take him away from me like that! It most definitely concerns me!

[INT]: I think you should be more concerned about yourself, Watson. You are already being charged with negligence, alteration and lying on your reports, as well as developing relationships with SCPs. Not to mention your suspicion of abetting escape. You're lucky your memory hadn't been wiped or drunk of your ass with truth serum the moment you set foot in this office.

[PHIL]: I- I plead innocent.

[INT]: Philza, surely you must know that means nothing here.

[PHIL]: But there's no evidence of any of this bullshit! Only suspicions and circumstantial evidence! I will accept a transfer on behalf of my negligence for the SCP-5400 case, but nothing else!

[INT]:  I did not say that you would be receiving a transfer, Watson.

[PHIL]: Then what the fuck else does 'temporary designation' refer to then.

[INT]: I will get to that in just a minute, Dr. Watson. Now, if you would care to review this evidence I have presented you with and care to refute it?

[PHIL]: [incomprehensible murmuring]

[INT]: While the lack of data should be damning enough in of itself, we have been able to retrieve some of SCP-5400's lost footage to prove whether or not you are being truthful with us, Dr. Watson. You are not very good at covering your tracks.

[Lost Video Playback - See attached file SCP-5400: Retrieved_Data_001 for details]

[PHIL]: There must be a misunderstanding here- I- I- haven't done any of this. That must be falsified, altered, I swear I-

[INT]: As funny as it would be to hear an explanation for releasing SCP-5400 of its bonds, I quite frankly neither have the time or patience to deal with that. Congratulations, Phil. If you wanted to get caught, this was the best way you could have done it.

[INT]: On behalf of the Foundation, you are being charged with falsification of documents, lying on reports, destruction of evidence and Foundation property, protecting SCPs, and assisting in SCP-5400's escape, as well as several breaches in protocol and other petty violations. You will have your license suspended until further notice and be transferred immediately to a different department upon the end of this interview.

[PHIL]: [REDACTED], wait, please- I- I thought we were- [pause].

[PHIL]: Temporary license suspension? No memory wipe?

[INT]: A complete memory wipe will not be necessary. As a valuable researcher, it has been decided that your knowledge and affinity for SCP handling would be of better use elsewhere in a more controlled setting.

[PHIL]: [nervous laughter] [REDACTED], what position am I being sent to exactly-

[INT]: You will be classified and assigned a D-Class position in the latest Project P-05535 until further notice. You will be administered Class-F amnesthetics throughout this week. You will be relieved of all your current duties until Project P-05535 deems you suitable to re-uptake them or assign you to other duties. For the time being, your current charges will be indefinitely reassigned to other researchers to conduct full and proper reports on them.

[PHIL]: PLEASE, [REDACTED], PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! PLEASE DON'T HURT THEM, THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! PLEASE, DON'T HURT TECHNO, HE DIDN'T- I CAN'T- I can't- I...

[The following segment has been cut from the recording due to confidentiality purposes.]

~~~

Amnesthetic Use Guide: Class-F Amnesthetics

Delivery Methods: Multiple Injections, Visual/Audio Stimuli, Electroconvulsive Therapy.

Effectiveness: Memory Recall Omission and Identity Reconditioning.

Details: 83.9% success rate in complete retention of reconditioned identities. The entire process takes approximately 5 days of continuous conditioning and therapy to produce the desired effect. Must be administered alongside a combination of other psychotropics to allow reconditioning with limited resistance.

~~~

My name is Philza Watson. I am thirty-two years old. I do not have a wife. I work for the SCP Foundation. I secure, contain, and protect. I am a good scientist. I research SCPs and study them to better contain them and protect humanity. SCPs hurt humans. I am a D-Class personnel. I experiment to stop them from hurting humans. I'm doing good. The testing is to help humans. I am...

Am I human?

The wings on his back shift awkwardly.