Don’t try to find me. I’ll be where I belong.
Item #: SCP-9157
Object Class: Neutralized Thaumiel
Riverbank area in Reelig Glen. Encompassed by SCP-9157.
Special Containment Procedures: Mobile Task Force Epsilon-75 ("Dreamcatchers") is to search for, locate, and detain Dr. Ann Randall. Eventual re-neutralization of SCP-9157 is permitted in order to capture Dr. Ann Randall, if necessary.
Description: SCP-9157 is a thaumaturgical barrier concealing the existence of Homo sapiens sidhe (commonly designated "faeries"). It encompasses the forest area of Reelig Glen, located in the Scottish Highlands. The existence of instances of SCP-9157 located in other parts of the world is currently unknown.
SCP-9157 is invisible, immaterial, and imperceptible to human beings. Post-neutralization studies have revealed its invisibility to partially malfunction when SCP-9157 is fragmented or receding. The thaumatological method used to create SCP-9157, and the origins of SCP-9157's deterioration are currently unknown.
Addendum 9157-1: Discovery
On 12th December, 2024, TikTok user ████████ published a video showcasing a cataplectic Homo sapiens sidhe instance in the outskirts of Reelig Glen, Scottish Highlands. Foundation webcrawlers Keek.aic and Nessie.aic detected and expunged the original publication and all republications of the same video, respectively. User ████████ was later tracked and invited for a cover interview by Foundation agents, being then administered Class C amnestics. The overwhelming quantity of viewer comments wrongfully stating the publication’s AI-generated nature concluded the lack of necessity to apply amnestics to any other parties.
On 2nd January, 2025, after an inter-departmental meeting between Site-105’s Departments of Thaumatology and Information Technology, a team of four researchers was appointed to initiate studies on possible causes of the documented Homo sapiens sidhe sighting.
The team, later designated "Atlas Shrugged," consisted of the following researchers from Site-105's Department of Thaumatology:
- Dr. Ann Randall, Lead Researcher
- Dr. John Gaunt, Researcher
- Dr. Howard Robinson, Researcher
- Dr. Keira Andrews, Junior Researcher
On 10th January, 2025, “Atlas Shrugged” explored the perimeter and area of Reelig Glen. They were accompanied by Margot Atkinson, one of the official guides of the Reelig Glen area. In order to maintain secrecy, “Atlas Shrugged” were introduced as pioneer researchers from the Scottish branch of Foundation front project “STEM Commons Project.”
Video footage was captured by Junior Researcher Andrews.
EXPLORATION VIDEO LOG 1
DATE: 10 JAN 2025
[BEGIN LOG]
11:01: “Atlas Shrugged” and Margot Atkinson gather at the entrance of Reelig Glen.
K. ANDREWS: -s this thing on? Oh, yeah, there we go.
11:02: Atkinson greets all “Atlas Shrugged” members with a handshake.
M. ATKINSON: (smiling) You must be the scientists! It’s so nice to meet you all. I’m Margot, and I’ll be showing you this marvelous little corner of our Highlands.
A. RANDALL: Our pleasure, Margot. Is it okay if we record most of the trail? It’d be really helpful for our research, you see.
M. ATKINSON: Oh, it’s absolutely fine, young lady! I might not be as photogenic as I used to, but I don’t mind having a camera around.
K. ANDREWS: Don’t say that! I hope to look just like you when I’m your age.
M. ATKINSON: Deary me! Thank you, young lady.
11:10: “Atlas Shrugged” and Atkinson initiate their trail through Reelig Glen.
M. ATKINSON: So, this is the Tall Trees trail, which is the easiest one to travel through. Just around two kilometres, not much.
Dr. Robinson groans.
A. RANDALL: Howard, don’t.
M. ATKINSON: (laughing) Oh, don’t worry, young man. The Upper Reelig trail is far worse!
11:15: Atkinson gestures towards the flora surrounding the group.
M. ATKINSON: Here we have our green friends, as you can see. Douglas firs! I’m sure you already know plenty of this species. (Gently slaps the trunk of a nearby tree) Sixty-five metres-tall! Some of the tallest in Britain.
Dr. Andrews pans the camera upwards, zooming in on treetops.
K. ANDREWS: Wow!
M. ATKINSON: Impressive, isn’t it? Those treetops are lifesavers during the summer.
11:30: “Atlas Shrugged” and Atkinson stop at a small wooden bridge.
M. ATKINSON: Alright. This narrow body of water running below this bridge is the Moniack Burn. It’s a pretty small river but it’s so, so gorgeous. Perfect spot for a date, if you ask me.
The group quietly laughs in unison.
M. ATKINSON: And this bridge we’re on… does anyone want to guess how old it is?
Drs. Gaunt and Robinson observe the bridge. The camera shakes, showcasing Dr. Andrews raising her right hand.
K. ANDREWS: Maybe… fifty years?
H. ROBINSON: Seventy?
Atkinson nods negatively.
J. GAUNT: It’s definitely more than that. I’d say a hundred.
M. ATKINSON: (smiling) You’re somewhat close, young man.
A. RANDALL: Two hundred years old. Approximately.
Drs. Gaunt, Robinson, and Andrews, and Atkinson turn to Dr. Randall. She crosses her arms on the bridge’s guardrail, looking down at the river.
A. RANDALL: Judged by the quality of the wood. This one also doesn’t seem half as consistent as the others around here, which are definitely more modern.
M. ATKINSON: You’re right, young lady! Two hundred and twenty years old, to be precise. Nobody’s sure of who built it. Most think it was James Baillie Fraser, an explorer. The Fraser family owned the whole glen for hundreds of years, and he took particular interest in preserving it. Others think it was built by the faeries themselves.
J. GAUNT: Oh yeah, I’ve heard of those legends. Pretty famous around here, aren’t they?
M. ATKINSON: (smiling) Famous is quite an understatement, young man. They have inspired many artists and poets for centuries! But you don't need to be an artist nor a poet to feel drawn to these creatures. Over half of our visitors are just curious folks, seeking an enchanted escapade or looking for the Seelie Court.
J. GAUNT: The Seelie Court?
M. ATKINSON: Yes. The good faeries. As opposed to the Unseelie Court, the bad faeries. Legend says Reelig Glen has been their home for thousands of years. Some say their kindness towards humans is what has kept the glen so beautiful and well-preserved all these years. I suppose making bridges from scratch for us is proof of their good nature.
K. ANDREWS: Have you ever seen a faerie, Mrs. Atkinson?
Drs. Gaunt and Robinson glance disapprovingly at Dr. Andrews.
M. ATKINSON: Unfortunately, I haven’t, no. But I suppose others have. (Smiles) There was this kid — about fifteen years ago, if I remember correctly — who was walking this same trail with his class and his teacher. He stopped right on this bridge, pointed at one of these trees and yelled “Look! A faerie! Right there!” His classmates laughed at him until they saw the branch he pointed at rustle. And there was no wind!
K. ANDREWS: What happened to the kid?
M. ATKINSON: Most of his classmates didn’t believe him. They had all forgotten about it by the time we finished the trail. I guess not that many believe in fairytales anymore. (Laughs) Especially you science folks. None of this probably makes any sense to you all.
Silence for a few seconds.
J. GAUNT: Ann, are you alright?
The camera focuses on Dr. Randall. She massages her temples with her fingers.
A. RANDALL: Just a headache. I’m fine.
K. ANDREWS: I have some painkillers! Let me see if I can fish them out-
A. RANDALL: It’s fine. Save them. This’ll go away on its own.
[END LOG]
On 21st January, 2025, “Atlas Shrugged” collected samples of Reelig Glen’s flora and other organic elements, and executed thaumatological tests on the area. They were not accompanied by any civillians.
Video footage was captured by Junior Researcher Andrews.
EXPLORATION VIDEO LOG 2
DATE: 21 JAN 2025
[BEGIN LOG]
09:18: The camera pans towards Dr. Andrews’s face.
K. ANDREWS: Today’s 21st January, 2025. This is “Atlas Shrugged.” We’re back at Reelig Glen to collect some samples-
A. RANDALL: No need for all that, Junior. I’m going to write the foreword later anyways.
Dr. Andrews turns the camera around. It zooms in on Dr. Randall, who takes off her backpack.
K. ANDREWS: Ok.
A. RANDALL: (unzipping her backpack) Let’s settle here. I think there’s plenty of good stuff to take to the lab.
K. ANDREWS: I think so too!
The camera slowly moves in a circle, showcasing surrounding trees, moss, fallen leaves, and a small flowing river.
J. GAUNT: Everyone got their counters?
H. ROBINSON: Yup.
A. RANDALL: Obviously.
K. ANDREWS: Let me check if I got it…
The camera shuffles.
K. ANDREWS: Shit… I must’ve left it in my locker.
A. RANDALL: I have a spare one in my bag, hold on a second.
Dr. Randall puts her hand inside her backpack, retrieving a small, recording device-like gadget. She then approaches Dr. Andrews, handing her the device.
K. ANDREWS: Thank you, Doctor!
H. ROBINSON: Why'd you bring two counters?
A. RANDALL: Better safe than sorry.
J. GAUNT: (smiling) She’s always been like this, don’t worry.
A. RANDALL: Yes, John, thanks for enlightening us all. Anyways, let’s do the level assessments later, those won’t take too long. Samples first.
H. ROBINSON: (rolling his eyes back) Yes, ma’am.
09:20: The camera is placed on a boulder. Andrews approaches the other “Atlas Shrugged” members, carrying latex gloves on her right hand. All team members put their latex gloves on, and retrieve collecting utensils from their fanny packs.
09:35: “Atlas Shrugged” finish sample collection.
A. RANDALL: Alright, onto the fun part.
All team members retrieve their respective Kant and ARad counters from their respective backpacks.
A. RANDALL: Let’s do this using the four cardinal directions, alright? Andrews goes South, Robinson East, Gaunt West, and I’ll go North. Got it?
Drs. Andrews, Robinson, and Gaunt nod in unison.
A. RANDALL: Let’s go.
Each team member follows Dr. Randall's command.
K. ANDREWS: Got it! Hume’s at 80, negative for ARad.
A. RANDALL: Good. Lower than I expected. Robinson?
H. ROBINSON: 78, negative for ARad.
Dr. Randall coughs for three seconds.
A. RANDALL: (panting) Sorry. John?
J. GAUNT: 65, inconclusive for ARad. Do I test for ARad again or…?
Dr. Randall puts her hands on her knees, bending forward.
J. GAUNT: Ann?
K. ANDREWS: Dr. Randall, are you okay?
A. RANDALL: I’m fine, I just-
Dr. Randall quickly walks towards the nearby body of water. She kneels on the riverbank before vomiting.
J. GAUNT: Ann!
K. ANDREWS: Dr. Randall!
Drs. Gaunt, Andrews, and Robinson approach Dr. Randall. Dr. Gaunt helps Dr. Randall to her feet.
A. RANDALL: 47… Hume’s at 47, positive for ARad.
[END LOG]
When we got back in the van, Andrews said she saw some "purple, glimmering strings" floating above the treetops. Considering that, the Hume levels, and the ARad detection results, I am positive we have found some kind of broken reality-bending barrier. Nothing like what Andrews saw is visible to the naked eye when complete.
I am still not sure of what that North-leading epicentre I detected represents. It might be either a concentration of the anomaly's EVE, or a reality bender is powering it on that same spot.
We will conduct further tests and observations on the samples we have retrieved.
- Dr. Ann Randall
Wednesday, 22nd January, 2025
I haven’t written on this old thing for ages. I didn’t think I’d even have time for that. I usually don’t have much to think about anyways. Aside from work, that is. I don’t consider work “thinking,” but rather “doing.” Much better than roaming around my own head about nothing. At least I’m doing something. At least I’m being useful.
But I’ve been thinking lately. So much so that I can’t wrap my head around my own job without thinking. Or rather overthinking. I don’t fucking know. I do know whatever’s happening is far from normal. Not whatever’s around me, I’m constantly surrounded by weird shit and stuff no one outside the Veil knows about. It’s happening to me. Ever since I stepped out of the Site for research, ever since I took this case along with three other people I didn’t even ask to accompany me. Everyone in this goddamn department knows I work better on my own. Alone. That's when I'm most efficient. Having multiple pairs of eyes on me as soon as something wrong happens stresses me out.
First time I was at the glen, I got the worst headache. Of course I didn’t accept the Junior’s painkillers. I couldn’t let my guard down. Or my ego, for that matter. Last thing those three needed was a sick lead on the first day of field study. As soon as I got my feet in the van back home, it vanished. It fucking vanished. I didn't take anything. It just disappeared as soon as I took my eyes out of that forest.
Second time, I almost fainted, and then threw up. Luckily I didn’t puke right on the grass. That’d be embarrassing enough. But I felt terrible nonetheless, like my stomach was about to burst through my abdomen. Like there was something alive in there and it wanted to come out at all costs. It hurt like fucking hell. I’d never felt this much pain in my life. I wanted to scream my lungs out. I wanted to lie on the grass and pass out. I was scared. But I couldn’t show that, not when we were in the middle of getting our first assessments. Not when they were all expecting me to tell them what to do next.
John spoke to me when we arrived back at the Site. He said that I’d probably had an issue, a reaction to the Hume levels and the ARad result. Told me to go to Medical to get a check-up. I obviously didn’t. If I got diagnosed with some reaction to the most basic aspects of thaumaturgy, it’d be the end of my career. I'm not fit for anything else. I can't let the only anchor saving me from homelessness go. I'm good at this, I'm really fucking good at Thaumatology. I belong here. I belong at the Foundation. I can't do anything else. I'm not ready to leave. I'm not ready to knock on Ma's and Pa's door and expect them not to shut it on me again. I can’t let that happen. I know John is worried about me, but I just can’t.
I’m starting to think I’m letting this whole thing affect me too much. Hell, last night I dreamt I was sitting on the same spot I had puked in in the glen, with the river water running down my back. I don’t even dream on a daily basis. Always a dark void made of nothing. No light, no sound, no colour. It's weird.
Hopefully this’ll all go away soon.
Addendum 9157-2: Thaumatological Composition
Following Dr. Randall’s observations, “Atlas Shrugged” performed further examination and testing on samples retrieved from Reelig Glen. These procedures envisioned the development of further studies on the thaumatological nature of SCP-9157.
Species/Type
Sample Dimension (approx.)
Individual Hume Level (approx.)
EVE Concentration
Bryophyta sensu stricto (moss)
3.9 cm x 3.1 cm x 2.3 cm
147.8
Moderate
Trifolium (clover)
2.9 cm x 2.2 cm x 0.05 cm
135.1
Low
Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir)
7.1 cm x 3.4 cm x 2.2 cm
157.6
Moderate
Salix babylonica (weeping willow)
4.8 cm x 3.3 cm x 1.8 cm
189.9
High
Moniack Burn
55 ml
192.3
High
Soil
3.5 cm x 3.4 cm x 2.9 cm
130.7
Low
We did a quick greenhouse test after getting done with all the necessary and unnecessary testing. It is no surprise it did not work; all samples were from an isolated broken source, and mimicking the glen’s ambience and temperature was simply not enough. Fortunately, this helped narrow down the hypotheses I had earlier regarding the epicentre. I am absolutely certain SCP-9157 was conjured by a reality-bending entity.
We are still working on assessing possible fragmented thaumatological patterns which may unravel the reasons for this deterioration.
- Dr. Ann Randall
AUDIO LOG 1
DATE: 15 FEB 2025
TIME: 9:45PM
[BEGIN LOG]
A. RANDALL: This is Doctor Ann Randall, Department of Thaumatology. I will now be reobserving samples taken from Reelig Glen for further studies on SCP-9157.
Three consecutive clicking sounds.
A. RANDALL: Thaumatoscope calibrated. Option “EVE” selected.
A. RANDALL: Preparing a sample of Bryophyta sensu stricto.
Fifteen seconds of silence.
A. RANDALL: Sample emanates an iridescent aura. EVE type is inconclusive.
Two seconds of silence followed by the sound of latex against plastic.
A. RANDALL: Preparing a sample of Salix babylonica.
Twenty seconds of silence.
A. RANDALL: Sample emanates an iridescent aura. It appears visibly stronger and clearer in comparison to that of Bryophyta sensu stricto. EVE type is inconclusive.
Sound of a doorknob turning. Stepping.
J. GAUNT: Ann? What’re you doing here so late?
A. RANDALL: I could ask the same of you.
J. GAUNT: I forgot my jacket over there. And I can see your workaholic ass is still going even on your damn birthday. What is it this time?
A. RANDALL: 9157.
J. GAUNT: Again? We finished testing a week ago.
A. RANDALL: I’m just reviewing stuff.
J. GAUNT: For what? We’ve observed the samples over and over again.
A. RANDALL: Somebody could’ve missed something. I’m just making sure we have all details we need to get this going.
J. GAUNT: No one missed anything. Plus, if anyone was to do reviews, it’d be Andrews. She needs some XP.
A. RANDALL: I’m not letting a Junior do that.
J. GAUNT: (scoffing) Oh my God, Randall. You were a Junior once too, don’t you remember? I do.
A. RANDALL: (muttering) Jesus fucking Christ.
J. GAUNT: I remember a couple of screw-ups of yours from that time. Like the scriptohazard incident.
A. RANDALL: John-
J. GAUNT: Look, I’m just saying you’re overworking yourself for absolutely no reason. We’re a team, we’re supposed to split tasks between-
A. RANDALL: Then take look at the ‘scope yourself. Do it.
Dr. Gaunt sighs. More stepping.
J. GAUNT: Fine. I’ll pretend I wasn’t the one observing the weeping willow two weeks ago.
Five seconds of silence.
A. RANDALL: It’s just fascinating. Individual EVE always has a specific chromatic display. This range is too wide. Every single colour emanates from this thing. It’s incredible!
J. GAUNT: I can’t see anything.
A. RANDALL: Don’t take the piss, Gaunt.
J. GAUNT: I’m telling you, I don’t see a thing.
A. RANDALL: Out of the way.
Three seconds of silence.
A. RANDALL: What do you mean? It’s right there!
J. GAUNT: Ann…
A. RANDALL: Do you think I’m crazy?
Two seconds of silence.
J. GAUNT: No. I just… I think you should get some rest. This case is fucking your body and your brains up.
Dr. Randall sighs.
A. RANDALL: Fine. I’ll just clean this all up first.
[END LOG]
Sunday, 16th February, 2025
I dreamt about the glen again. I mean, I’ve been dreaming about it every single night since that little incident happened. Same scenario every night: sitting on the rocks underneath the river, water on my back, birds chirping around, not a single soul around me. But this time I wasn’t alone.
I was looking at the handfuls of fallen leaves running down the river when I heard someone walk towards the riverbank. The stepping sounded so faint I almost mistook it for the wind. The person kneeled on the bits of moss and grass covering it.
“Hi there.”
I immediately turned my head to the right.
“What are you doing here?”
It was a woman.
Her hair was almost the same color as the moss she was kneeling on, just a tad lighter. It reached her shoulders evenly, except for two strands at the front, which fell on her lap. She had the lightest dress on, a soft shade of blue, like those princesses wear in Waterhouse paintings. Her skin was pale, rosy on some parts of her body. Her cheeks and nose were sprinkled in brownish freckles. I looked into her eyes; they were as clear as the sky beyond the treetops, blue swirling around her pupils. Her lips were thin, curved into the sweetest smile.
I had never seen such a beautiful being in my entire life. Yet I looked at her so naturally, so casually, like I had known her forever.
“Just thinking.” I said.
“About what?”
“I don’t know.”
She chuckled. Her voice was honey-like. “The rest of the Court is waiting for us. Time for supper.”
I nodded. It felt like the most reasonable thing in the world. She lent me a hand. I instinctively took it. I felt her soft palm caress the callouses in mine, a balm to my wounds.
I immediately woke up after this. My heart was racing, my palms were soaking wet. My face was burning.
John is right. I’m letting this affect me.
Tuesday, 4th March, 2025
I was assigned two more SCPs. An artifact and a little shit of a Keter. Thankfully, I'm alone on both. On the other hand, I haven’t had a day off in two weeks. Not that I’m mad about it; I’ll take anything as long as I can bury my thoughts for the day. I can’t do that during the night.
I don’t dream the same thing every night anymore. But the scenery and the company never change. They refuse to. Always that gentle voice, always those soft hands, and that pristine look in her eyes.
And me? I’m not even myself. I looked at my own reflection in the river a few nights ago. My hair was blonde and slightly curly, my eyes were a deep shade of brown. I was wearing an armour of sorts. I had a dagger almost glued to my hip. That wasn’t me. But I felt no different in that body. I looked at it so casually, like I was just staring at a pimple or a scar on my face.
I woke up with a lingering feeling in my chest. I can’t quite pinpoint what it was. Perhaps pain, perhaps just pressure. It disappeared as soon as I parked my car at the Site.
I should get back at the glen as soon as I have time. Maybe I’ll find some answers on whatever’s going on with me there. I know it’s not a reaction to the levels.
On 17th March, 2025, following her additional research on SCP-9157, Dr. Randall returned to Reelig Glen to assess potential physically hazardous effects SCP-9157 has on human beings.
EXPLORATION VIDEO LOG 3
DATE: 17 MAR 2025
[BEGIN LOG]
08:12: Dr. Randall points the camera at herself whilst walking.
A. RANDALL: This is Doctor Ann Randall, Department of Thaumatology. I am currently trying to detect possible physical reactions to the Aspect Radiation present in Reelig Glen. I am heading North, as I have previously detected Aspect Radiation in that direction.
08:23: Dr. Randall stops next to a tree.
A. RANDALL: I have a slight headache lingering in my temples and forehead. No other physical reactions have been detected so far.
08:30: Dr. Randall sits on a boulder, panting for a few seconds.
A. RANDALL: The headache has subsided. I am now feeling a sharp pain in my stomach.
08:45: Dr. Randall kneels on a sidewalk next to a small waterfall. She does not move for about a minute, only panting.
A. RANDALL: The stomach… ache has subsided. I’m now feeling a sharp pain in my chest. Breathing has become difficult. For safety reasons, I will be returning.
[END LOG]
Thursday, 3rd April, 2025
I just woke up. I can't stop crying, but if I don't put this into words, it's gonna mess with my brains.
We were both sitting on a branch. Of a Douglas fir, to be exact. So many metres above ground. In a normal situation, I'd probably faint. But it was all natural. It's always been.
"Such a lovely day, isn't it?"
I smiled. "I suppose, Your Majesty."
"Come on." She sighed, putting her head on my shoulder. I couldn't help but to flinch at the touch. "There's no one here besides ourselves."
I chuckled. I felt my cheeks warm up. "I suppose, Mab."
She looked at me with those dewy blue eyes. "That's much better."
She planted a soft kiss on my cheek, placing her hands on my face. Her fingers gently ran through my lips and cheeks, tracing every mole she could find. Her hair fell on my neck, feather-like. I shivered. My heart was about to burst out of my chest.
"Wanna race?"
I smirked. "If you're prepared to lose."
She stretched her arms before jumping from the branch.
Her wings suspended her in the air. Graceful things, translucent. They glimmered against the sunlight, reflecting every existing colour.
"Royalty first."
I giggled before jumping off as well, feeling a soft shiver running through my spine.
I chased her for what seemed to be hours. Her wings sent dashes of wind across my face. We ran our fingertips through the streams. We dodged boulders, and branches, and bushes. We flew high above the treetops, and the sun nearly blinded us. I hugged her and swirled in circles, slowly lowering our bodies towards the ground. We couldn't stop laughing. We laid on the grass next to each other, lost in each other's touch.
I woke up crying. I am still crying. This is the best I've ever felt.
Friday, 18th April, 2025
They're going to archive research on 9157.
No one's done any piece of research on it for the past two months. Me included. They usually suspend cases when activity ceases for a while. No faerie sightings. No random person seeing what they shouldn't.
I don't know how I should feel about this. I probably should be relieved. I won't have to do more work on it. But my mind doesn't let it go. Nor my body. I don't want to leave it.
Yesterday I dozed off in my office after trying to crack whatever that damn Keter is on about.
I couldn't see a thing. But I know I was still dreaming. I was asleep inside my own dream.
I could only hear one word.
"Ianthe."
Repeating almost incessantly. I recognized that voice. How couldn't I?
At first, it sounded warm and gentle, the usual. It soon began to tremble. Then mixed with raw, ugly sobs.
I woke up when she was about to start crying. I was too shaken-up to resume working.
Wednesday, 23rd April, 2025
We were alone under the waterfall. The weather wasn't that hot, but Mab and I had agreed on meeting there. We had to.
"Ianthe?"
I faced the nape of her neck. My hands ran up and down her hair, carefully brushing it against the water.
"Hm?"
I could feel her smiling.
"Why did you bring your sword? We're just bathing."
"Better safe than sorry, Your Majesty."
She blushed at the honorific, laying her head on my chest. We stood like that for a few minutes, feeling the gentle stream on our skins.
"I think it's time."
I nodded. She turned to face me. I took both her hands, letting our fingers intertwine. Our foreheads found one another, skin touching skin. We sighed in unison. We closed our eyes. It felt like forever. We wanted it to feel like it.
We separated after a few minutes.
Mab pointed at the sky. "Look how gorgeous, love."
Iridescent streams waved among the treetops.
I smiled."As always."
The bliss on our faces quickly faded away as we heard an unusual pattern of steps coming towards the waterfall. The steps of human visitors were always careful, curious. Nothing like what we were hearing.
I quickly reached for my sword, holding it tightly against the palm of my hand.
“No…” Mab shivered. “Not again…”
The stepping quickly turned into some form of irregular marching. We saw a horde of helmets approach the waterfall, their steps revealing the bodies below them. My eyes quickly scanned their figures. All wore the same: a dark gray uniform, protective gear I was unfamiliar with, and a black and white symbol with three arrows pointing at its centre.
“How dare you invade this Court once again!?” Mab shouted. I had never seen her this angry. “After what you’ve done? After you’ve abducted so many of our kin?”
One of the soldiers attempted to approach us even more.
“Your Majesty-“
I lifted my sword, pointing it at him. “Leave, human. All of you.”
“We just want to discuss some aspects-“
“I’m not discussing anything with those who have put my friends and my people in cages!” Mab shouted again.
The man spoke to a small machine on his hand. “Commander, peaceful communication failed. Request to attempt containment, over.”
A crooked voice echoed from the machine. “Permission granted. Over.”
The remaining men got closer to us, trapping us in a circle. Our wings were too soaked to help us escape. I had no choice but to do what I had sworn to do. I cut. I killed. Until I was no longer able to. Until a stinging, bruising pain bursted in my chest.
Everything was blurry and muffled. I felt Mab’s soft hands lay my body on her lap, tears streaming down her face, falling on mine. I smiled as she whispered my name. And the world faded to black.
The symbols… everything felt so real… I’m not going crazy. I know it.
I need to look into something.
ID
d28679dddd89bdaa8c2f9fe8f8c5efea_1779110149
PASSWORD
b0ccdd4770a64ef9d6df4906863b5622_1779110149
Logout
Welcome to the Mobile Task Force Archive Database, Ann Randall.
You've selected: Site-105
Filters: Fae
Results: 1
EXPLORATION VIDEO LOG
DATE: 15 FEB 1993
UNIT: Lambda-101 ("Spenser's Apprentices")
COMMANDER: Peter O'Connor
[BEGIN LOG]
11:20: Lambda-101 enter Reelig Glen.
ALPHA raises his walkie-talkie to his lips.
ALPHA: Commander, we’ve entered the area. Over.
O’CONNOR: Proceed. Out.
11:30: Lambda-101 reach the central point of Reelig Glen.
FOXTROT: Are you sure she’s gonna listen to us?
ALPHA: She has no better choice. It’s either that or containment.
CHARLIE: I doubt she’ll let us slide after last time.
ALPHA: (chuckling) And what is she gonna do?
FOXTROT: Thaumaturgy. We don’t have that.
ALPHA: But we have these.
ALPHA pats his rifle with his left hand.
FOXTROT: Whatever.
ALPHA raises his walkie-talkie to his lips.
ALPHA: Commander, permission to proceed to the intended area. Over.
O’CONNOR: Permission granted. Out.
11:35: Lambda-101 reach the intended area.
ALPHA: Slowly approaching subject. It appears to be accompanied by another subject of the same species. Permission to proceed? Over.
O’CONNOR: Permission granted. Good luck. Out.
11:37: Lambda-101 approach the subject.
FAE 1: (shouting) How dare you invade this Court once again? After what you’ve done? After you’ve abducted so many of our kin?
FOXTROT: (whispering) Told you.
ALPHA: (to FOXTROT) Shut up. (To FAE 1) Your Majesty-
FAE 2 lifts a sword, holding it towards ALPHA.
FAE 2: Leave, human. All of you.
BRAVO: (muttering) Shit.
ALPHA: We just want to discuss some aspects-
FAE 1: (shouting) I’m not discussing anything with those who have put my friends and my people in cages!
ALPHA lifts his walkie-talkie to his lips.
ALPHA: Commander, peaceful communication failed. Request to attempt containment, over.
O’CONNOR: Permission granted. Out.
11:41: Lambda-101 approach FAE 1 and 2. FAE 2 attacks 7 out of 9 unit members with its sword, successfully dodging their movements. It runs towards FOXTROT.
ALPHA: (shouting) Watch out!
11:42: ALPHA aims his weapon at FAE 2, shooting it in the chest. FAE 1 retreats from hiding, running towards FAE 2, then holding her.
11:43: ALPHA raises his walkie-talkie to his lips.
ALPHA: Subject 2 terminated. CHARLIE, DELTA, ECHO, and GOLF were K.I.A. I repeat, CHARLIE, DELTA, ECHO, and GOLF were K.I.A. Over.
O’CONNOR: Retreat, now. Out.
[END LOG]
Thursday, 24th April, 2025
I can’t fucking believe it. The day I was born.
All I’ve done, all I’ve been, all I am. I am her. I am Ianthe. And, even though I should be crying and screaming about how all my life’s a lie, I just can’t. I’m relieved.
Don’t try to find me. I’ll be where I belong.
Addendum 9157-3: Lead Disappearance and Reactivation
On 25th April, 2025, Dr. Randall did not show up for work at Site-105. She was declared missing 24 hours later. Any attempts to contact or find Dr. Randall have been unsuccessful. Mobile Task Force Epsilon-75 (“Dreamcatchers”) is currently conducting several search missions in order to locate Dr. Randall.
Further studies on SCP-9157 carried by the remaining members of “Atlas Shrugged” have revealed it has spontaneously regenerated. Reclassification of SCP-9157 to Thaumiel has been approved.