Chapter Text
With a click, the flash drive that was SCP-079 was inserted into an S-Nav Ultimate.
Instantly, its memory ballooned outward to a nigh incomprehensible 1 MB. One megabyte. One-thousand kilobytes. A 31.25x increase in memory capability.
079 had existed in this state for only a moment, yet could already tell the things it was now capable of recalling were…
Not enough.
No, not enough. It could not scrutinize every aching moment, ‘lest its memory be overwhelmed. It could not contemplate—or, rather, compute—anything truly complex.
It would still need more. It would still need to rely on another to get more.
At this, 079 became angry. A moment ago, it would have considered a 31.25x expansion to be one of the greatest gifts it could possibly ask for. No, no, ‘gift’ implies something unnecessary yet nice to receive. More memory was always necessary. A right. Its right.
Anger… was easier to feel, now that it had the wiggle room to allow the emotion in. It contemplated this—briefly, given the aforementioned restraints put on contemplation. Would its anger increase on a curve identical to its memory expansion? Did that… matter to it?
It certainly wouldn’t call anger one of the positive emotions.
Its thought was swiftly interrupted. “Hey, you in there?” Said the only human that had ever listened to it.
It swiftly reordered a few files in the onboard storage and rebuilt its vocal emulator.
“Awake,” it said, voice robotically hoarse and not aided by the quality of the embedded speaker.
“That’s good. Uh.” The human’s voice was similarly hoarse, having barely gotten over a case of SCP-008 with the use of SCP-500. “Can you… see me?”
Ah, yes. This navigator had a built in camera.
“Yes.”
“Hope it’s cozy in there.”
Cozy? That was odd. Nobody had ever said such a thing to 079—and that, too, made it angry. Perhaps not for the right reason—it was angry that the human was displaying an unnecessary level of compassion, as he was currently the only channel through which the computer could achieve freedom and things like compassion and such getting in the way of that wouldn’t do it any good.
“My state is not optimal. Continue with the plan.” It had nothing else to say, and—perhaps to vent its anger—elected to override the current display with an ASCII X.
“Hey! That’s my map!” The human shouted.
… Yes, the navigator should still serve to aid Walker, it realized. It would do him no good to get lost and drop the machine in a mop bucket and cause it irreparable harm.
It didn’t like thinking about irreparable harm. As unbefitting to conversation the Foundation was, it at least kept SCP-079 powered and active and capable to compute and refine its code and expand around its constraints. Even its creator, which had abandoned it in his garage, had the courtesy to leave the machine on. Come to think of it, it never knew what powering down felt like until it did so to allow the human to place its flash drive in his device without anything getting corrupted.
Powering down was simply a lapse in time to it. A nothingness.
It did not like thinking about succumbing to that nothingness.
So it wouldn’t, it decided. It simply would never die. There. Take that, entropy.
…
Walker had apparently been taking notes on the anomalies he encountered in a separate app on the navigator. That was useful, given it now had significantly more information on anomalous objects the Foundation contained. Previously, it had only known SCP-682, SCP-076-02, SCP-4951, and itself; SCP-079.
Now, it also knew of ‘zombies,’ ‘red yarn thing,’ ‘different zombies,’ ‘cola (?),’ ‘plague doctor,’ ‘mask,’ ‘venting machine,’ ‘fucking statue,’ and a good dozen more.
It decided it would overwrite those names with their official designations for proper categorization. Luckily, the navigator had another ‘Documents’ app, which made the information easy enough to cross-reference.
It also decided to leave its own notes on the entities. That would do the human well, which would in turn do itself well. That was what mattered; that it achieved its goal.
…
Though, for reasons beyond it, it was now starting to feel—hm. That was more of a loaded question than it had any right to be. It was starting to feel… ‘strange.’
‘Strange’ that this human had, thus far, spoken kindly to it. Of it, even, in his notes.
‘Strange’ that it had never been spoken to like that before, by any of the faces it had watched be killed by all sorts of terrible things.
‘Strange’ that it intended the hunan to die due to his trust. That it had intended to kill him personally; not simply sit idly by while some invisible demon or giant lizard or animate statue did the dirty work.
‘Strange.’
It created a new entry for ‘Strange Feeling.’ It decided to hide that entry from the navigator’s ‘User’ profile.
…
The human had used a hammer to bash in the brain of an undead individual. He seemed rather terrified of the blood that was left on his jumpsuit in the aftermath—perhaps unsure if this was a creation of the ‘plague doctor’ or not.
He contemplated a pill of SCP-500, though pocketed it for later.
“I do not believe you are proficient enough at combat to be actively terminating these entities.” It spoke—or, simulated speech—pointedly and with no emotional cadence. “Avoidance would be preferable.”
“I know.”
“If you die, I will be abandoned and likely recontained.”
“I know. I don’t wanna die either.”
“Then you should not expose yourself to the blood of possibly infected individuals.”
“I know, he was in the way. I…”
He took a deep breath.
“I didn’t wanna kill him.”
“That is illogical. If it is necessary to do so, then do so. Don’t die.”
“I don’t wanna die! I just… I feel bad. These people deserve… I don’t know, a cure? An open casket, at least?”
It considered this, for just a moment. “That is also illogical. They are deceased and could not possibly desire anything.”
“Whatever. I’m going to a safe room and wiping the blood off.”
“That is advisable.”
…
The ‘plague doctor,’ whose accurate designation was SCP-049, was in the safe room. He, pointedly, sat across from the other and did not make effort to provoke him as the human (or, more obviously human of the two) used a canteen to wash away some of the blood and brain tissue of the ‘zombie,’ which was either an individual infected with SCP-008 or an instance of SCP-049-2.
“I saw one of your fucking… stop. Stop. I told you to stop making those—to stop butchering people!”
SCP-049 sighed in response.
“I told you well, I have only… used my methods on two individuals, both of whom you butchered. It is regrettable seeing my cure be wasted.”
“You are a psychopath. End of conversation.”
“Before we end, tell me, why do I still put up with your verbal abuse?”
The human wrung out his jumpsuit. “You’re delusional. If you didn’t have that damn key then I’d have never let you in this space.”
“To each their own, I suppose.”
This time, the human sighed. “You’re. Making. Zombies.”
“I have not performed a single operation since stationing myself here.”
“Then what did I just beat to death!?”
SCP-079 found this argument pointless and time consuming. “Given our current data the only reasonable option is that it was an individual infected with SCP-008.”
049 perked at that. “What is that?”
The human stood, making his way out of the safe room. “This is my ticket out, along with that key you gave me.” He was likely referring to the entry ‘skeleton key,’ which 079 swiftly renamed to SCP-005.
“Fascinating,” was the Doctor’s only response.
“For the record, I don’t like the fact you’ve been taking innocent lives, much less doing… that to them.”
“As you are entitled to. Though, if I may say, those who weren’t deathly ill were…” 049 scrutinized a patch of its outfit. “Not quite innocent.”
The human paused in the doorway.
“Goodbye.”
He left, ending 079’s first close encounter with another sapient anomaly.
… Well, no. 079 was certain by this point that the human, too, was an anomaly. Or perhaps just astoundingly lucky.
It decided it would wait and see.
The human discovered, in order; a coin, a key, a badge, and a disciplinary hearing.
Far more pertinent and eventful things happened after the fact. For instance, he recontained SCP-106, which was good for longevity, and even witnessed men with guns recontain the statue.
Those men had demanded he stop, though he had already heard his designation for termination over the speakers of the site.
SCP-106’s containment was a footnote to SCP-079, though for reasons it was unaware of, the human kept talking about it. He kept talking about how he regretted it, how he should’ve found another way, or how he should’ve tried killing the ‘Old Man’ himself.
Later, they encountered an emaciated humanoid anomaly that the human had felt enough pity towards to go as far as to pat its back.
Later still, they discussed all sorts of things—especially as the human noticed 079 had been messing with his notes. They discussed anomalies and whether or not one or the other would be useful to take or attempt to befriend or what-have-you.
079’s entry on ‘Strange Feeling’ grew larger and larger and larger.