777

Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Foundation. A Tragicomedy In 5 Parts.

The documentation for the following SCP is likely out-of-date, inaccurate, or incomplete. However, as it is among the only surviving iterations of this article, it has been presented here. Sorry, Vita. I'll try to access everything else.

Item#: SCP-9730

Level6

Containment Class:

esoteric

Secondary Class:

thaumiel

Disruption Class:

keneq

Risk Class:

critical

link to memo

SCP-9730's concrete exterior exposed during a transfer for further analysis.

SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: SCP-9730 is to remain within its concrete block at all times. All testing is to only be carried out after being approved by at least 10 members of the O5 Council. As Site-001 itself is practically impenetrable due to a large assortment of thaumaturgical and physical defensive measures, no other staff are to be assigned to SCP-9730's detail for security reasons.

DESCRIPTION: SCP-9730 refers to a small humanoid entity currently suspended within a large concrete block, which has been fitted into a load-bearing wall in Site-001's foundations. SCP-9730 is perpetually unaging, and analysis using advanced imaging technology has revealed that it has remained in a newborn-like state since its containment in 1876.

Aside from the above anomalies, SCP-9730 has also been conceptually merged with the concept of the Foundation's continued existence through the use of a now-extinct thaumaturgical rite. Through extensive research, the de facto hypothesis regarding SCP-9730 is that as long as it remains trapped in its concrete shell, the Foundation as an organization will continue to survive.

Due to the morally-dubious nature of the SCP-9730 practice, however, a number of conflicts, both within and from outside the Foundation has taken place over the ethics of SCP-9730's continued suspension and containment.

For more information on SCP-9730, please view the history section below.

Chapter 1: The Baby And The Origins Of The Foundation (1876)

The Department Of Parahistory would like to attach the following note from The Office Of O5-7, under Special Overseer Request For Context, cited from his book, "The Baby Trap: The Foundation's Original Sin."

Current cover of "The Baby Trap."

To understand the nature of the Immortal Baby Entrapped In Concrete, one must first understand the nature of the Foundation at the time. We were only a few years old, still young and green, born of the fresh hell that was the Fifth Occult War. All of us had made terrible sacrifices, and all of us had witnessed the incomprehensible cost of what it means when the walls of certainty came down and the flames of armageddon burned away at your loved ones.

We were fearful, you understand? As old as we were then in age and in experience, we were still so young, mere babes not unlike the one that now sustained us, staring down a new and terrible world that wished us nothing but harm. We were desperate, and we were oh so afraid.

The Administrator understood this more than anyone. He understood sacrifice, he understood our fear, and he understood the cost. That’s why he took on that burden. Please, if you view his actions on that day in any sort of way, view it with understanding.

-O5-7

The Department Of Parahistory would also like to attach the following note from The Office Of O5-5, under Conditional Special Overseer Request For Context:

If Seven tries to append anything to the file to this thing, I use my override to append my own message. Come on, it’s a fucking immortal baby trapped in concrete.

-O5-5

According to official Foundation records and the testimonies of the Overseer Council (the predecessor to the current O5 Council), Foundation Administrator and First Overseer Fritz Williams went on an extended sabbatical on 1/1/1876.

Prior to departure, several Foundation Overseers described his demeanor as highly unusual, noting that he often appeared “deeply contemplative” and “lost within his own mind” - with multiple accounts of him shambling around the Williams Manor without clear purpose, saying nothing when prompted.

Administrator Williams did not return upon the conclusion of his sabbatical period, and responded to no Foundation correspondence during that time.

SCP-9730 was first discovered by the Overseer Council in the private office of the Administrator at Site-001 on 3/6/1876, alongside the following note.

From The Office Of Grand Administrator I

To my compatriots and partners in the fight for what is just and what is right, I am writing this with quivering hands as I try to force myself to lay bare the truth of what I hath done. I can no longer be a part of your fight. I can no longer be a part of your world.

In my travels, I have often ruminated upon the horrid nature of our Work, as well as the role of Man and his Humanity in it. In recent days, my mind works ceaselessly - depriving me of sleep and senses as I delved deeper and deeper into introspection. I chased long-dead philosophies and sought out dark scholars. I retraced the paths that giants once followed on the path to greater enlightenment, all to understand it all.

I shall not tell you my recently-acquired conclusions. All I shall tell you is that I can only ever come to one unerring truth: the Foundation must not fall, and there is no price high enough to pay for the success of our mission.

All of you who know me knows I love the Foundation as I would a child. I have seen it grow and mature. I see the promise that it holds for the future. It is a love that I thought I would never feel again.

I discovered that I was wrong, at the same time I discovered my final role in all things.

My friends, I was presented with the opportunity to ensure the Foundation’s eternal salvation at an unthinkable cost. I paid the price, and I see myself for what I am in this cruel, cold world.

At the cost of saving the soul of the Foundation, I have condemned that of two other. One guilty, and one innocent. I have made the ultimate sacrifice, and I have resigned myself to flames of woe.

A child for a child. A damnation for damnation.

Your Administrator is a godless, cowardly, selfish man. All I can ask you is your forgiveness for making you all complicit in my darkest deed. I tell myself it was the only way. I hope that it is true.

I leave your future in your hands, now and forever.
Fritz Williams
Administrator

1

The following instructions were found on the back of the note, alongside a diagram of operations. Handwriting analysis suggest that these instructions were not produced by Williams.

• Show Transcribed DocumentShow Original Document

  There is a small immortal enfant suspended in this cube of hardened sand-based polymer. The child has been through means instrinsic tied to the fate of the Foundation. As long as the enfant remains alive and suspended within the cube, the Foundation shall persevere through all hardships.

  For thaumaturgical enrichment and geometric maximization, it is recommended that the enfant’s cube be placed beneath the Williams Manor’s perfect center.

  Removal of the child from its polymer container may disrupt the ritual, bringing the Foundation into unmitigated ruination.

Following the discovery of SCP-9730, The Second Overseer (the position now known as O5-2) would deploy a vast amount of thaumaturgical scholars to research the validity of the Administrator’s claims in the note, specifically whether such a ritual could really exist. Furthermore, he called off the numerous search parties that had been seeking Williams across five continents for the better part of a year.

The following note is from Dr. Dreiberg of the Department Of Thaumaturgy on researching the ritual used in SCP-9730’s creation, circa 1938.

Unfortunately, even now, decades since The Second Overseer opened up research into the Administrator’s little curio, we’ve barely come any closer to undoing the exact ritual that was used in order to:

1. Make the baby immortal,
2. Make the baby unaging (a very different process from mere immortality), and
3. Make the baby conceptually tied to the Foundation.

"The Ascended Babe" from page 432 of the Erikesh Codex.

Although our understanding of notions such as conceptual engineering and noospheric embodiments have since developed, none of the technologies relating to it would’ve been available in the time of the Administrator. This helps us narrow down that whatever was used here is probably some complex form of advanced arcane magic.

Multiple attempts were made to cross-reference SCP-9730’s properties with notable branches of magic and anomalous cultures throughout the years, with little results. Comparisons were drawn with the Nalkan practice of “bebegrouding” - a rite practiced in some Sarkic subcultures where newborn children were submerged, not in concrete, but healthy fertile soil to absorb its nutrients. A deep-dive into the well-known practice of Baby-fortified Architecture was deemed irrelevant after Parahistorians determined that the practice was entirely aesthetic.

It wasn't until 1898 when a raid on Sirs Marshall, Carter & Dark Apothecary & Anomalous Goods recovered several dozen pages from a previously-undiscovered section of the Erikesh Codex pertaining to ancient child-related containment procedures that we were able to identify the probable cause: A rite known as "The Ascended Babe" - illustrated with imagery that greatly resembled the depiction on the Administrator's notes. The rite was only mentioned once in the text, where it was described as a "forbidden sacrifice magic, used only when the cost is too high otherwise."

Unfortunately, as the actual methodologies of the rite and its reversal methods were not present in the recovered pages, the raid accomplished little aside from substantiating the Administrator's claims.

However, despite the fact that the raid recovered 42 pages of material, Sirs Marshall, Carter & Dark's manifest showed that there were originally 48 pages stored in the warehouse. Notably, every other listed rite included an in-depth list of instructions, with the exception of "The Ascended Babe."

The Second Overseer would later call an Overseer meeting in order to discuss the contents of the letter, as well as to present the now-contained SCP-9730 item. A transcript of the meeting is presented below.

Overseer Council Transcriptions

Of the missive regarding ye’ item of the Immortal Babe in Concrete, the Council of Overseers did convene through the following meeting, as recorded by Samson Presley, Foundation Scribe.

“Alright, that is of the matters that we are dealing with today,” says the Second, “Does anyone have any inquiries?”

“Yes,” says the Fifth, “What in Hell’s name are you talking about?”

"There's a bairn, you say?" says the Third, "Inside the stone block, there's an immortal bairn child? And the Administrator has abandoned us? After entrapping his immortal bairn child inside a stone block?"

"I don't like current events anymore than you do," says the Second, "But I am looking for more specific inquiries, here."

"What are we waiting on, then?" says the Fifth, "We must liberate the child! We must contact the stonemasons from over the hills!"

"We can't liberate the child, Five!" says the Fourth, "Have you seen not the note? The babe is intrinsically intertwined with our Foundation, now!"

"Right, but what does that even mean?" says the Twelfth, "Our organization was doing fine for sev'ral years without being connected to a magical enfant. What evidence do we have that the Administrator has not simply gone demented?"

"Can the child breathe in there?" says the Tenth, "I see the illustration, and disturbingly, I see no means through which the child can receive fresh air. Wouldn't the child have suffocated?"

"The child is immortal, Tenth," says the Second, "I assume that includes an inability to perish via suffocation."

"This is a horrific set of circumstances, Two," says the Third, "By this, do you imply that the child requires not air, or that the child simply cannot die yet still suffocates?"

"I am working with the exact set of information as you," says the Second, "There isn't a second page that I'm not presenting here, Three. You can just peruse the note once more. I would assume that the child still requires air, yet does not leave the mortal coil."

"So the babe suffers without the relief of death?" says the Eighth.

"Given the apologetic nature of the note," says the Second, "I would assume, so."

"Why, this is grotesque!" Says the Fifth, "Are you saying that we have brought untold suffering onto an innocent being for merely the longevity of our organization? This is an abominable act by the Administrator!"

"Maybe it isn't as bleak as it could be," says the Third, "Could we perhaps drill holes inside the stone box? We could insert tubes containing nourishment and air inside, for the child."

"We can't drill into the box," says the Fourth, "The note says that to remove the child from its container's suspension would disrupt the ritual, bringing the Foundation into ruination."

"But a mere hole isn't removing the child from suspension," says the Third, "It only necessitates that the child be alive and suspended in the polymer substance, not that the child remain alive and suspended and the polymer substance remain completely intact."

"The illustration connects the polymer cube to the Foundation seal, not the child," says the Sixth, "And if there was a way to modify circumstances for the betterment of the child, wouldn't the Administration have done so? I feel that the existence of the stone cube is intentional to whatever rituals were involved. What if we drill into the cube, and the child dies immediately?"

"Impossible," says the Thirteenth, "The child is immortal."

"Some jellyfish are immortal," says the Sixth, "Yet they perish if I were to drill into them."

"Speaking of the illustration, I do have an inquiry," says the Eleventh, "The babe's countenance appears cyclopean in nature. Why is that? The Administrator had two eyes."

"That is the Eye Of Ra," says the Second, "I assume that it is merely for illustrative purposes and not reflective of the actual child, which I assume would have two eyes along with archetypal human features."

"Cyclopean or not," says the Ninth, "We must not submit a child to this agony, if the Administrator's note is to be believed. We are complicit, and we must be responsible for undoing whatever atrocity that the Administrator has committed."

"But if what the Administrator says is true, then the child would make the Foundation everlasting, meaning we could protect the entire world," says the Thirteenth, "And besides, you act as if this is the first tot that the Foundation has encased in concrete."

"What?" says the Ninth.

"I mean, do we even actually know if there is a child inside the polymer?" says the Twelfth. "Have you subjected the child to imaging rays and technologies?"

"I would've," says the Second, "But I haven't, just in case. From what my men tell me, any imaging technology that could penetrate through this polymer would perhaps also fry the child alive."

"The immortal child," says the Thirteenth.

"Again," says the Sixth, "That we are instructed to keep the child alive would imply that there is a possibility of death."

"So there is no way to know for sure if there is a child inside of the polymer," says the Twelfth, "Could this entire exercise be a moral test devised by the Administrator? A moral test, to test the limits of our humanity? To see if we would degrade ourselves to harming an innocent for our own convenience?"

"Or, the test is to see if we'd do what it takes to preserve our Foundation," says the Sixth, "In which case, babe or no babe, we should still follow the Administrator's instructions."

"Look," says the Second, "Babe, or no babe, moral exercise or no, we must vote on which course of action to pursue. Do we follow the Administrator's instructions and suspend the cube under Williams Manor? Or do we liberate the child, possibly incurring wrath upon our Foundation? If no one has any inquiries left, let us vote."

"I have an inquiry," says the Seventh, "Is there any possibility of esoteric complications from tying the soul of our organization the soul of this immortal baby? Like, will it turn all of us into babes somehow?"

"What? No," says the Second, "I mean, I would assume not. We're still not babies yet, are we? My word, let's just vote."

Liberate: The Fifth, Ninth, Eighth, Twelfth, Third, Tenth Overseers. (6)

Suspend: The Thirteenth, Fourth, Second, Sixth, Seventh, Eleventh Overseers. (6)

"Okay, shit," says the Second, "I forgot The First is now vacant. We need another vote."

"I haven't even begun the process of selecting Fritz's replacement," says the Twelfth. "We won't have a suitable candidate for weeks!"

"We don't have weeks," says the Second. "Now, Samson, what do you think?"

"I say to suspend the immortal babe," says Samson Presley, Foundation Scribe.

"Sam, why would you do this?" says the Fifth.

"I do not like children," says Samson Presley, Foundation Scribe.

VERDICT: The Immortal Babe in Concrete shall be interr'd beneath Williams Manor, inside of a load-bearing wall, per the instructions of the Administrator.

1

According to Overseer records, the Overseer Council would hold several dozen votes over the next few years on whether to free the baby from its imprisonment within the concrete cube, or not. These motions often failed, after the induction of Foundation Scribe Samson Presley into the Overseer Council granted the Pro-Baby-Internment faction a valuable one-vote edge.

In 1898, the Ninth and Twelfth Overseers both perished in a duel meant to decide the construction site of the Emerson Vault (now known as Site-19) - which led to the First Overseer appointing their seats with Pro-Baby-Internment candidates, giving the faction a super-majority. In 1906, a vote was then held to officially shutter all future discussions and votes regarding the immortal baby. After the verdict, the Second Overseer would give the following statement:

The Second Overseer, leader of the Council Pro-Baby-Internment Faction.

Do not misunderstand me, while I sympathize with my fellow Overseers across the aisle, those filled with concerns over the role of the immortal child, and I understand their perspective, this is a choice that must be made for the betterment of our organization. For too long, we have strayed from our paths, blinded ourselves to the larger machinations at play in pursuit of petty squabbles over a lone case, and we have become lesser men for it.

This babe shall not see the sunrise today, nor it will in our lifetime, yes, but if the Foundation fails, then no babes shall see the sunrise tomorrow. What makes this one child, this immortal child, so much more important than any of the other children of the world? Of your own sons and daughters? Do you not have a young babe at home, Tenth? Do you not have a son, a mere learning-child, Fifth? Would you trade their places with that of the soul we have entombed beneath us?

If the price for all man's salvation is to suspend one immortal child in cement, that is the price we shall pay. If that price was to suspend a thousand immortal child in cement, God forgive me, that is the price we shall pay.

-The Second Overseer.

However, despite the above statement, Foundation historians now speculate that the reason the vote was held was so that the now majority Pro-Baby-Internment faction of the Overseer Council could get ahead of a potential confrontation with the fledgling Committee Of Ethical Containment (now known as the Ethics Committee), which according to The First Overseer, would harbor "unacceptable extremist ideals regarding immortal child liberation."

This strategy appeared to have been successful. Over the next few years, departing members of the Anti-Baby-Internment faction of the Overseer Council, bound by silence, would be replaced by candidates hand-picked by the First Overseer, and though future Overseers would not be notified of the immortal child (unless they specifically inquired) - all candidates would have to score a perfect grade on the mandatory "Councilmen Candidacy Examination" - which included the following item:

Question 1,541: You are given the choice to ensure the Foundation's eternal prosperity. HOWEVER - You must subject an immortal newborn child to an eternity in a concrete bucket. What would you do? Write a 5,000 word essay to justify your answer.

Chapter 2: The Baby And The Foundation Civil War (1937)

In 1937, during a routine remodeling of Site-001, O5-4 uncovered old documents in the archives relating to SCP-9730. After confronting O5-1, the concrete block containing SCP-9730 was excavated from beneath Site-001 for analysis. Upon receiving the results, O5-1 initiated a meeting with the rest of the Council to discuss the findings.

O5 COUNCIL TRANSCRIPT

The O5 Council, as of 1937.

O5-1: Alright, so, uh, everyone, I'm really not looking forward to this. If everyone could take a seat-

O5-3: Fuck, man. Son of a bitch.

O5-5: What? What's going on?

O5-1: I said sit down.

[All remaining Overseers settle into their seat. O5-1 rubs his temples.]

O5-1: Alright, so, uh. About the old scrolls that that Four found last week, y'know, the one about the immortal newborn baby that's buried under the place?

O5-5: The fucking what?

O5-1: Right, we never- Okay, right, I'm just- I'm just gonna rip off the band-aid here. There's an immortal baby, uh, trapped in a block of concrete. It's apparently been under Site-001's floorplan for over half a century. We just dug it up, I got some folks at Site-002 to take a look at it, and uh, yep. There's a baby in it. The block.

O5-5: What the fuck are you on about?

O5-4: Okay, it was an entire thing.

O5-10: Wait, Five, didn't your predecessor say something about this? At the induction ceremony?

O5-5: I thought it was a metaphor!

O5-8: How the hell can this have been a metaphor?

O5-5: Oh, for- "At the heart of the Foundation is an eternal child, struggling to break free from its stone prison, that you must release at all costs-" Yes, it sounded like a fucking metaphor!

O5-4: Right, okay, so it's, uh, not a metaphor.

O5-3: Y'know, I was wondering why that particular question was so specific on the exam.

O5-2: See here, are we even sure if it's a baby? Or maybe it's just some sorta' monster guy that looks like a baby, and, y'know, this is a good thing?

O5-1: Well, uh, from what I can gleam from the Administrator's note, it's pretty likely that this is just a regular baby. Just, immortal. I mean, I feel like if it was something that's not a baby, that'd have been brought up.

O5-2: The Administrator?

O5-1: Right, yeah, I'm pretty sure the baby is the Administrator's.

O5-5: You're pretty sure?

O5-1: Look, okay, we'll go into the nitty-gritty of it later, but the point is-

[O5-1 presses a remote. The room dims. An image of SCP-9730 is projected onto the screen.]

O5-1: We gave our top thaumaturgists about a few days, and the results looks pretty conclusive. The Hume readings would indicate that the baby is exerting a constant Hume emanation in-line with widespread conceptual entanglement, which seems to line-up pretty well with the Administrator's assertion that the baby is intrinsically intertwined with the organization's fate. If you look at the thaumaturgical scan here on the screen-

O5-5: Literally. What the fuck. Are you talking about!? What-

[O5-5 stares incredulously at the picture on the screen, sputtering, as he looks around the room.]

O5-5: This! What is this?! What the fuck am I looking at?

O5-7: I would assume that's the baby. Y'know. In the concrete block. The one that's, uh, been intrinsically intertwined with the Foundation.

O5-9: Yeah, I mean, I think that's pretty clear.

O5-5: What the fuck does intrinsic mean!?

O5-3: See, now, I have a question, here.

O5-5: Oh, thank God.

O5-1: Alright, what is it, Three?

O5-3: Right, I notice on the scan that the baby is upside-down.

Scan of SCP-9730. Baby entity highlighted.

O5-1: Yes.

[Pause.]

O5-3: Well, should it be upside-down?

[Pause. There is the sound of tapping in the background.]

O5-1: Well, uh, no.

O5-4: We marked the direction when we got it out, so I figure they got it wrong when they first put it in.

O5-6: Is the baby white?

O5-10: I concur. Is the baby alright? I mean, the baby is immortal, right? So it should be fine? If not breathing for fifty years didn't kill it, then I doubt blood pooling due to sustained suspension would, right?

O5-9: Hang on, I've got some concerns. Do we actually know if the baby's still alive? Or if the baby's been dead for like, decades? And there's just like, a rotting pile of baby-slush in a baby-shaped hole in the concrete?

O5-5: Why the fuck are you like this?

O5-1: No, no, it's a legitimate concern. I inquired about that exact situation, and it appears that there does seem to be continued life signatures coming from the baby.

O5-5: Oh my God.

O5-11: I… well, so how is it?

O5-1: Unclear. All we know is that it's alive. We can't get any other information, the Hume fluctuations messes with the readings. All we know is that the baby still seems to be… conscious.

O5-5: Wait, cuh-conscious?

O5-1: Yes. Alive, and, uh, conscious. They're saying it might've been conscious this entire time. We thought it woke up during examination, but on further inspection, it just appears that whatever ritual was used just keeps it in a constant state of awareness-

[O5-5 hurls. The tapping pauses then continues.]

O5-12: Oh- Come on, it's not that bad! Conscious can mean a lot of things! Maybe, uh, maybe the baby is happy inside the concrete. Right, One?

O5-1: I mean… we can't… we can't really rule it out-

O5-4: Okay, I feel like we're getting a bit off-track here. I'll, uh, tell them to put it the right-side up the next time we put it back into the wall-

O5-5: We're putting it back into the wall?! You can't be fucking serious!

O5-10: I mean, it is a load-bearing wall.

O5-1: Look, I'm sorry, Five. This meeting was supposed to be about clarifying where we go from here, not about what to do with the baby. Again, the baby's- The baby's intrinsically tied with the Foundation-

O5-5: What does that mean!?

O5-1: It means that now we know we can do anything, Five! Don't you see?! It means from this moment on, we know that the Foundation can't fail, as long as the baby remains! Nothing is set in stone, except for us, as long as the baby is also set in stone!

O5-7: Concrete.

O5-1: This is why the old Overseers hid this from us. They must've been afraid, afraid of our hubris, afraid that if we were to learn of our invulnerability, of what we would do. We have to prove them wrong, don't you see? We have to use this power for good!

O5-5: Mate, you're fuckin' insane! It's a goddamn living baby that we've got stuffed in a fucking rock!

O5-1: Don't you think it pains me, my boy? I didn't decide this. I didn't call it, because I knew what the results would've been before I stepped into the room. I knew you were the only one who couldn't see it. Look, all of you-

[O5-1 stands up and looks around the table.]

O5-1: O5 vote. Who here's in favor of returning the baby to the load-bearing wall beneath Site-001? Cast your votes now.

[O5-5 immediately slams a button on his table. The other O5s slowly press their own vote buttons. A few seconds later, a tally is projected on the screen.]

O5-1: Twelve yays. One nay. Motion passes.

O5-5: I can't believe all of youse.

O5-1: Please, see reason, Five! We all took the exam. We knew this day would come. We were selected to serve the Foundation first of all, and deep down, all of us, we'd do anything to fulfill that goal.

[O5-5 rises, snarling at O5-1.]

O5-5: Fuck you.

[O5-1 slumps down in his seat. He places a hand on his head.]

O5-1: I wish it could be any other way. We didn't start any of this, but we've been benefiting off of it for as long as we were part of this organization. We won't be the one to end it, either. All we can do is what we can, to keep the secret, to do our work, and hope that at the end of the day, it- Heavens, does anyone know what that tapping noise is?

O5-13: Huh? Oh, sorry. Don't mind me, I'm just about done.

[O5-13 is tapping on a small mechanical device. There is a brief silence.]

O5-1: Thirteen? What are you doing?

O5-13: I'm finishing the preliminary notes for the SCP classification of the immortal baby! Just gimme a second… and send!

[O5-13 taps the device a final time. The other O5s look at each other. O5-1 raises a finger, pointing at the machine in front of O5-13.]

O5-1: What is that.

O5-13: Oh, I was using a wireless telegram. It's a new thing my department worked out. Much easier, much quicker than the old ones. Why, the Ethics Committee should be receiving the notes any second now, and the Research Department will have a finished SCP dossier within the evening!

[All of the other O5s stiffen. O5-13 glances around nervously.]

O5-1: Do you… realize what you've just done?

O5-13: …Why? What happened? Is… is something the problem?

[O5-1 grimaces before slowly standing up.]

O5-1: Oh, yes. There is a problem, here, I'm afraid. A serious one.

[O5-1 slowly walks to O5-13, who recoils in his seat. O5-1 removes his glasses.]

O5-1: You see…

[O5-1 grimly points at the machine in front of O5-13.]

O5-1: A tele_gram_ is what you send. What you're using is a tele_graph._

O5-13: Ah, right, sorry. I get that mixed up a lot. My bad.

O5-1: Oh, no, it's no problem. Just don't wantcha' to make a fool of yourself in front of anyone else, now, would we?

The resulting Foundation civil conflict between the Ethics Committee and the O5 Council would last for several months, culminating in the deaths of over 200+ Foundation personnel, the termination of 45 SCPs, and the complete destruction of 2 Foundation Sites, eventually ending in the defection of over 150 Foundation personnel of varying levels, including 32 former MTF agents. This event was later categorized as the Foundation Civil War.

This splinter group, led by former Site-17 Director Nicole Richmond and Ethics Committee Liason James Bernard Schafer later escaped Foundation detection through the use of several stolen anomalies.

Profile: Dir. Nicole Richmond

Dir. Richmond, circa 1936.

Initially working as a researcher for the Site-17's humanoid wing, Dir. Richmond was assigned as temporary replacement for Site Director Gregory Seltzer when Dir. Seltzer was assigned to Project BLUE MARCH. Under Dir. Richmond's leadership, Site-17 underwent extensive reformation, leading to a 30% increase in efficiency and a significant drop in humanoid rights violations the following year. Dir. Richmond's position was made permanent following the discovery of Dir. Seltzer's mangled corpse beneath the ice 36.2km away from Antartica Outpost-42.

For the bulk of Dir. Richmond's employment at the Foundation, she was an avid proponent of humane treatment for humanoid anomalies, devising upwards of 200 action plans and proposals for better anomaly and personnel treatment improvements. Unfortunately, for an unknown reason, none of her plans were ever considered by the Foundation Department Of Containment.

Upon being notified of SCP-9730, Dir. Richmond was able to rally the Ethics Committee into enacting Primary Action. This course of action, however, failed, as the majority of the Ethics Committee Board Of Directors was suddenly dispatched by Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") in the midst of drafting a letter asking for the O5 Council's resignation. Foundation historians widely considers this to be the starting point of the Foundation Civil War.

Profile: Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Dr. Schafer, circa 1925.

Inducted into the Foundation in 1921 after having met O5-6 during a venture in his hometown in North Dakota, Dr. Schafer rose through the ranks as one of the Foundation's finest thaumaturgists, and was appointed as a lead researcher of the Department Of Continuity, before his work earned him the title of Chief Ethics Overseer on the Ethics Committee.

For the last few years prior to his defection from the Foundation, Schafer had repeatedly voiced that, in his view, the Foundation had consistently failed to strive toward the betterment of humanity. His associates reported him becoming increasingly "disillusioned" with his work at the Foundation, becoming more and more politically active, and constantly reminiscing about his previous position in North Dakota.

During the Foundation Civil War, it was revealed that Dr. Schafer had been amassing a number of devout followers who shared in his philosophies for at least a decade. These followers, along with a number of Ethics Committee members led by Dir. Richmond would make-up the majority of the splinter group's numbers during the war.

Profile: Royal Fraternity of Master Metaphysicians

A meeting of Foundation Metaphysicians.

During his tenure at the Foundation, Dr. Schafer had also founded the Foundation Society Of Metaphysics, a small club of Foundation-affiliated Metaphysicians based out of Site-17. While on the surface, it served as a fraternity of like-minded individuals, it was also served as a recruiting apparatus for Dr. Schafer's own splinter group. During the Foundation Civil War, it was estimated that a large amount of the defecting Foundation personnel had, at some point in their past, held membership at the Society.

In January 1938, Dr. Schafer, Dir. Richmond, and the remnants of the Foundation Society Of Metaphysics would resurface publicly, rebranding itself as the Royal Fraternity of Master Metaphysicians. Their first official act would be the purchase of the 24-acre Vanderbilt Estate "Idle Hour" mansion, later renamed "Peace Haven" and used as their base of operations.

Operating publicly as a "diaper brigade," in secret, Dr. Schafer had begun converting new followers to a militant infant-based apocalyptic cult focused around the arrival of a "baby messiah" that would bring order to the world. Dr. Schafer's inner circle would adopt the title of "Storks" with Schafer himself adopting the title of "Chief Stork." Purportedly, Dr. Schafer's devotion to this pet project would lead to a developing schism with the faction of the splinter group lead by Dir. Richmond.

Despite their above-Veil operation and blatant appropriation of Department Of Continuity management techniques, the Royal Fraternity of Master Metaphysicians remained under the Foundation's radar for over a year, as the group was then indistinguishable from non-anomalous Metaphysics clubs and/or pro-natalist organizations.

Profile: Baby Jean Gauntt - "The Immortal Baby"

Baby Jean, circa 1939.

In November 1939, Dr. Schafer finally resurfaced publicly, announcing his organization's intentions to adopt Baby Jean, the newborn child of Catherine Gauntt, a poor waitress. He explained he would raise Baby Jean into an "immortal being" through the use of metaphysics, a special vegetable diet, and by disallowing anyone from mentioning any terms relating to the concepts of death or disease in her presence. By doing this, he explained, Baby Jean would be preserved from old age and death.

Immediately after the publication of Dr. Schafer's interview by The New York Times, the O5 Council went into high-alert, as Dr. Schafer had divulged the basic steps of Erikeshan conceptual engineering to an audience of millions. This, coupled with his proposal of creating an immortal baby led to the conclusion that somehow, he had come into possession of the missing pages of "The Ascended Babe."

It was unclear if Dr. Schafer publicizing his plans was meant to be perceived as a threat, a trap, or an invitation for co-operation. Regardless, the O5 Council would decide that an enemy organization with its own SCP-9730 instance would be too dangerous to exist. As such, proposals for a raid on Peace Haven was approved the following week.

Upon MTF Omega-8 “Baby Snatchers” entering the Peace Haven grounds, it was quickly discovered that the Royal Fraternity of Master Metaphysicians had used multiple temporal-spacial anomalies in order to enlarge the mansion's interior significantly. The difficulty in navigating the mansion as well as various encounters with pockets of temporal disruption greatly increased the time length of the mission.

Notable incidents included a member of the task force accidentally killing his own grandson who was also his paternal grandfather, constantly reanimating hostile members of Dr. Schafer's "Storks" personnel, and at least 3 instances of agents accidentally wandering into a different time period.

By the time MTF Omega-8 was able to reach Dr. Schafer's control room, what was to be a 1-day mission had extended to a year-long operation in objective time, with at least 3 billion years of subjective time in-between.

The following exchange was captured using MTF Omega-8 Agent Sanchez's portable body wire-recorder.

MISSION LOG TRANSCRIPT

Agent Sanchez's rendition of the Peace Haven control room and Eigenmachine.

[Agent Sanchez bursts into the control room and brandishes his standard-issue Foundation M1903 Springfield. There is whirring coming from the Eigenmachine set into the floor of the facility. Dr. Schafer and Director Richmond stand on a walkway high above.]

Agent Sanchez: Give it up, ya' punks! The Foundation's here to smack ya' yet. All your dastardly machinations stops now!

Dir. Richmond: Ah, the Foundation's dogs. As loyal as always, I- Hang on, where's the rest of your team?

Agent Sanchez: They've either died of old age, are off fightin' with their alternate future selves, or haven't been born yet, fiends. And I'll have ya' know, I'm one unhappy camper about it. Now raise your hands, and no one-

Dr. Schafer: You fellas ain't follow the instructions?

Agent Sanchez: The wha'?

Dr. Schafer: The instructions. On how to get here, while avoidin' the temporal anomalies. We left it pinned to the door. It's… we just needed the time dilation to finish our little project here, quick.

[Dr. Schafer shakes his walking stick at the Eigenmachine at the bottom of chamber.]

Dr. Schafer: It wasn't exactly convenient for us, gettin' through the halls, either. You fellas… you didn't read any of that? I thought we even put it in an easy-to-see spot.

Agent Sanchez: And why the hell'd'cha do that for?

Dir. Richmond: We wanted you here, agent. Your organization, its great misdeeds, you've left us with little choice. We required an agent of the Foundation for our plan, and now, with you here, we can proceed.

[Agent Sanchez steps forward, pointing his gun at Dir. Richmond.]

Agent Sanchez: So it was a trap, eh? Then enlighten me. What were you two plannin' on?

Dir. Richmond: And that's the big question, isn't it, agent?

[Dir. Richmond steps forward, and withdraws from within her coat several yellow decayed pages.]

Agent Sanchez: The remaining pages of The Ascended Babe, huh? I shoulda' known. Doc' Richmond, and here I thought you of all people weren't a hypocrite.

Dir. Richmond: Far from it. My stances remain clear: Only a barbarian would use the suffering of a child to shield themselves. The Foundation's sin is the greatest evil mankind has ever known. I want no part in it. No more.

Agent Sanchez: If you're not looking to entrap a baby of your own, why do you have those pages?!

Dir. Richmond: The Ascended Babe is not the only ritual in the missing segment of the Erikesh Codex. There was another one, another ritual. A _counter-_ritual.

Agent Sanchez: What? But… Baby Jean… what Schafer said on the news… you were creating another immortal baby.

Dr. Schafer: Don't trust everything you read in the news, fella. Let me show you what it's all been for.

[Dr. Schafer pulls a lever. The Eigenmachine's exterior opens up. Bright blue electrical energy glows from its bottom. Large thick tubes made out of metal and glass dissipate the energy into the surrounding walls. At the center of the machine, a spire rises. On the end of the spire is a small platform.]

Agent Sanchez: My Lord…

Dr. Schafer: Behold. The Descendant Babe. The Annihilation Child. Fashioned from dark matter and stone. The Anti-Baby.

[The spire comes to a stop. On the platform rests what appears to be a concrete statue of a newborn baby.]

Agent Sanchez: Then… Baby Jean…

[Agent Sanchez looks up as a creaking noise emanates from the ceiling. A panel above opens up to reveal a glass cage. Inside is Baby Jean, who is consuming pureed carrots. A trapdoor can be seen on the bottom of the glass cage, which is now positioned directly over the inert Anti-Baby.]

Dr. Schafer: Baby Jean will not be the second Immortal Baby, good man. She will become the vessel for the Baby Of Pure Death. And when the two entities collide, when an unstoppable force meets the immovable object…

Agent Sanchez: Is… is that why I'm here?

Dir. Richmond: We know that the O5s would never let us close enough to Site-001 to get to the baby's concrete shell. The machine is only an amplifier, but we needed some trace of the Immortal Baby's influence. You.

[Dir. Richmond points at Agent Sanchez.]

Dir. Richmond: The Foundation's pact with the Devil states that as long as the Immortal Baby lives, the Foundation lives. It's protection extends to all those in the Foundation, including you. A thaumaturgical network that extends from you to every single Foundation personnel, to the O5s, to the child that lies beneath them.

Dr. Schafer: The Anti-Baby can mitigate that network to its very source just from a single node. If it touches you, the entire Foundation crumbles to dust.

Dir. Richmond: Chaos. Against your organization's perfect order. We have engineered your demise.

Agent Sanchez: And what of the giant demented bird?! Another step of your devious scheme?!

[Agent Sanchez motions at the giant mechanical pelican with glowing carvings in the background. Dir. Richmond turns to look at the giant pelican.]

Dir. Richmond: What? Oh. I- Actually, I'm not sure what that is. James, why'd you build that?

Dr. Schafer: Why- You're the engineer. I didn't build that. I thought you did.

Dir. Richmond: Why would I build one of your storks? That's your thing.

Dr. Schafer: That's- That's not a fuckin' stork. It's a pelican. And it's not a thing, it's because storks carry babies and- Okay, look, it probably just came with the house. The point is-

[Dr. Schafer holds out a remote controller.]

Dr. Schafer: With just the press of this button, your entire Foundation dies. You can't escape it.

Agent Sanchez: So why haven't you pressed it already, wise guy!?

Dir. Richmond: Did you really think we would condemn another innocent soul to death? Just to prove a point? Now you know that we're at an impasse. We know the Council is listening. We're here to negotiate.

Agent Sanchez: I… you…

[Agent Sanchez's backpack-mounted walkie-talkie activates.]

Command: That's enough.

Agent Sanchez: Sir-

Command: Stand down, agent. Director Richmond. Doctor Schafer. I represent the O5 Council. State your terms.

Dir. Richmond: Good. Now, we're getting somewhere. Within the missing pages, there is a way to undo the Ascended Babe ritual while leaving the affected organization intact. A bloodless way. I am willing to enact it should you agree to our conditions.

Command: And what makes you think we'll keep our word?

Dir. Richmond: There are ways to make a binding pact. I have skilled thaumaturges on my side. If a blood covenant is what it takes, then so be it. We'll do it here in this very room, and we won't let go of the remote until it is confirmed.

[Silence.]

Command: And what are your conditions?

Dir. Richmond: Hmm. You'll learn when the binding's started. I don't want you to get cold feet. But nothing too egregious. You'll just have to trust us on that.

[Nearly 10 minutes of uninterrupted silence.]

Command: …Deal.

[A team of Foundation thaumaturges enters through the door. A team of Dir. Richmond's thaumaturges descends from the walkways. They meet with each other on a small extended platform over the Eigenmachine. Agent Sanchez turns to one of the Foundation thaumaturges.]

Agent Sanchez: How'd you folks get here so quick?

Thaumaturgist Breyers: We followed the map. Took us 'bout 5 minutes.

Agent Sanchez: Aw, hell.

[The thaumaturges on each side unveil a flask of blood. They spent the next few minutes setting up preparations for the blood pact. Finally, they draw an insignia on the floor in blood. Dir. Richmond and Dr. Schafer carve the same insignia on their arms. All of the insignias begin glowing.]

Dr. Schafer: Here are the terms of the agreement. It shall be honored, 'lest the party that fails to uphold the bargain be claimed by death. The SCP Foundation shall, in exchange for letting Dr. Schafer and Dir. Richmond break their conceptual bond with SCP-9730, the Immortal Baby trapped in concrete, the Foundation shall carry out a number of policies depending on the choosing of the other blood party, regardless of the request. Deal?

Dir. Richmond: Deal.

[Pause.]

Command: Deal.

Dir. Richmond: Of the policies listed, the first is that Foundation forces will no way in any shape or form interfere, or intervene, with Dr. Schafer and Dir. Richmond's work in breaking SCP-9730's conceptual bond. Deal?

Command: Deal.

Dir. Schafer: Deal. The second policy is that SCP-9730's natural lifespan will be returned, its traumas are to be rectified using all possible means available to the Foundation, and it shall be allowed to live its remaining life free from Foundation influence. Deal?

Command: Deal.

Dir. Richmond: Deal. The third policy is that the Foundation will take all steps necessary to alleviate the suffering of its anomalies and staff. All discriminatory containment practices are to be abolished, all measurements considered inhumane are to be replaced when possible, and as quickly as possible. Deal?

Command: …Deal. Get on with it.

Dr. Schafer: Deal. The fourth and final policy is that the Foundation will now be completely and fully devoted to the development, empowerment, and enrichment of all people, men, women, and children…

[Dr. Schafer pauses for 3 seconds.]

Dr. Schafer: …as long as they are of white aryan descent, and will serve me personally, forever. Deal.

Dir. Richmond: Deal.

[Brief silence from all parties. Dir. Richmond looks down, then turns to Dr. Schafer.]

Dir. Richmond: What?

Agent Sanchez: Jesus Christ, man.

Dir. Richmond: No, no, what on earth is the matter with you? No- The deal's off. I, Dir. Richmond, the other blood party, I cancel the deal.

[Dir. Richmond wipes the sigil. She stares at it. It is still glowing.]

Dir. Richmond: I- No, no, that's my blood we're using- Why is the bonding- Whose blood is this!?

Dr. Schafer: Oh.

[Dr. Schafer raise his arm, revealing a red pinprick on his wrist.]

Dr. Schafer: Musta' been mine.

Dir. Richmond: No. You swapped- Overseers, you cannot take this deal!

[Dir. Richmond tries to grasp at Dr. Schafer's arm. He pushes her to the floor.]

Dr. Schafer: It's too late! They already said yes to the first one, that means they already accepted every condition henceforth. You can't stop me, Nicole. I've been planning this for years, since all those days so long ago, watching the organization I loved become slowly filled with marxist race-traitor degenerates. Now, the world bends to my will!

Dir. Richmond: You sick bastard! All this time, you… You told me that you wanted to make the world a better place!

Dr. Schafer: That's always been the truth. Now hear me! I am Dr. James Bernard Schafer, Foundation doctor, Squire of the North Dakotan chapter of the Ku Klux Klan! And I restore the Foundation to its rightful purpose, what it should always have been doing! To serve race! To serve country, and to serve- OhGodWhatthefuck-

[Dir. Richmond kicks Dr. Schafer's ankles, sending his feet off the edge of the walkway. His bottom half falls through the widely-spaced railings. His head slams onto the edge of the walkway before the rest of his body completely careens off into the Eigenmachine. It's immediately dissolved in the energy below with a sound akin to that of a fly-zapper.]

[There is a brief silence as the insignias stop glowing. Everyone stares at the bottom of the Eigenmachine.]

Agent Sanchez: Well, uh, I guess that-

[Loud, thundering noise as the Eigenmachine detonates.]

By the time Foundation forces arrived, most of the control room had collapsed onto the remains of the now-defunct Eigenmachine, though casualties were few. Baby Jean was found safe in her glass container, which was positioned high up enough to avoid damage by the explosion. Foundation lawyers returned her to her parents the following month after a series of tests confirmed her health to be baseline.

As per standard Disinformation policies, all public appearances of Dr. Schafer moving forward were assumed by a surgically-modified D-Class on an experimental regiment of drugs. The cover-up was deemed effective, and the D-Class successfully committed suicide via car exhaust in 1955.

Dir. Richmond was not found at the scene, and neither was the Anti-Baby. The following is a statement by Agent Sanchez regarding the events that occurred after his wire-recorder stopped functioning.

"Well, the room was on fire, and everything was crashin' down left and right, and Doc' Richmond gets up and climbs up the railins' but then she suddenly looks back at me, and she says that we haven't seen the last of her, and that whatever happens, she'll free the baby, even if she has to burn the whole world to do it. Then, she tells me- Well, not me, but the Foundation, to expect them soon. As in, their organization. Then they were gone.

What was their name again?

Oh, right, yeah.

"The Kiosk Insurgency." Not a good name, I tell ya' what, but you didn't hear that from me. Honestly though, me personally, I'm sure we'll ain't ever hear from them again."

Chapter 3: The Baby And The Chaos Armageddon (2026)

The following is a transcript of "A Message From The Insurgency" - a common propaganda text frequently spread by the Chaos Insurgency in various sub-Veil settings in order to stoke anti-Foundation sentiments.

In 2026, shortly prior the event now referred to as the Chaos Armageddon, a large amount of flyers containing the text was airdropped over Foundation facilities, civilian cities, as well as anomalous communities such as Three Portlands.

A MESSAGE FROM THE INSURGENCY

Do you sense it? Do you see it? You know it, you feel it, deep down in your bones. The invisible hands that guide your existence, that pushes and pulls the strings of your world. Large, gloved hands that rock the small confines of the cradle, gleefully trying to frighten the baby inside.

The baby is you.

You’ve looked at the files. You’ve come face-to-face with the truth. The hands that connect to the arms that connect to the elbows that connect to the torso that connect to the head that connect to the Foundation. Faceless men and women, rocking the cradles of the world, guiding events throughout history all towards one goal. To make themselves God, while the world slaves away unknowingly, like a sleeping baby.

The baby is you.

At the center of it all is yet another baby, in another cradle. An immortal baby trapped in a permanent concrete crib. It is their god and their slave. Their hope and their fear. They know that they will bask in immortal light as long as it is kept in the eternal dark, but they know that it is the only thing that keeps them alive, and they know that we know it. This is what drives them, and to never have to give up that power, they would make the entire world a baby trapped in concrete.

THE BABY IS YOU.

Join the Chaos Insurgency. We love babies.

Foundation Disinformation Campaign media protocol in effect, circa 2026.

Due to the widespread nature of this incident, the Foundation entered a high-alert Veil-break mitigation state. This included measures such as seizing mass media apparatus worldwide, coordinating with civilian news networks and world governments, as well as the swift fabrication of disinformation materials for publishing.

Within the following month, the information leak was contained and explained away with a cover story involving the production of a cinematic adaptation of Ursula K. Le Guin's 1973 short story, "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas," starring prominent sub-Veil actor, Cilian Murphy.

Concerns of using this particular story for a cover-up of SCP-9730 taking into account the fact that the story was originally written by Le Guin as an anti-Foundation critique of SCP-9730 were waived, as it was deemed the most convincing explanation nonetheless. The film debuted in theaters on Christmas Day 2026 to sub-par ratings and placed onto streaming platforms the following week, as per current Foundation-dictated film and media policies.

During this period of activity, however, Foundation resources were stretched extremely thin. Recovered Chaos Insurgency communications would later reveal this to have been the intended effect of the maneuver.

To: Operatives [ALL]
From: Delta Command
Subject: Urgent. Final mission.

Friends and Operatives,

We have recently caught wind of some extremely troubling developments within the Foundation. For months now, the data has been coalescing towards darker possibilities, and today, we've finally been able to make out the shape of the future.

It does not look good.

The final piece of the puzzle was our recent excavation of the abandoned Facility-5507, a research facility of the Foundation Unorthodox Solutions Division. Initially believed to be a failed raid, as the facility was completely emptied at the time, our top technicians were able to unearth encrypted data from the facility's offline database. The file has been attached to this email.

Attached: ProjectChildHarness.zip

If the information within is true, then this will be the biggest escalation of Foundation control in over a century. We are running out of time, and if nothing is done to stop this, they will win. That's it.

I call upon all of you today. The Insurgency's Final Plan will be set into motion. A distraction shall come. Await further commands.

Ab incunabulis,
Ad finem.
-Delta Command.

This message has been encrypted using ChaosVPN. Sign-up for Premium today and get 40% off for your first 3 months!

For several years, the Unorthodox Solutions Division had been in charge of several covert Foundation projects, usually aimed at increasing containment efficiency. Under an agreement with the Department Of Continuity, the majority of these projects would be carried out with little to no Ethics Committee oversight.

The following is the front cover of the initial proposal for Project CHILD HARNESS, which was submitted to the Department Of Continuity in 1992 by the Unorthodox Solutions Division director (and Main Advisor To The O5 Council), Dr. Samuel Gregland. The proposal was approved the following year.

PROPOSAL FOR PROJECT: CHILD HARNESS

WEAPONS OFT COMES FROM THE MOUTH OF BABES

Project #: PRJOLM-5321553

Clearance and File #: DOC-051235934

Head Researcher: Dr. Samuel Gregland

Abstract: For over a hundred years, SCP-9730 has been one of our most valuable Thaumiel-class anomalies. As long as it remains contained in its current state, the Foundation shall never fall, and this has held true time and time again, as our organization persisted through crisis after crisis, as if the Immortal Baby has carried us with it in its protective concrete shell.

However, the Unorthodox Solutions Division posits that it is not enough for the Foundation to not fall. In this day and age, the idea of mere survival becomes less and less impressive by the day. Long gone are the eras of the Foundation trying to barely get by, eating the scraps of world governments and other paranormalcy organizations. One could perhaps even come to the conclusion that whatever feat the Administrator pulled off in order to create SCP-9730 has been surpassed by what we could do ourselves, with our endless safeguards and contingencies.

I say differently. I say that SCP-9730 still has room to grow. I say that with our current understanding of paratechnology, the Foundation is finally in a position to do something that has been deemed impossible for the last 11 decades. We are finally ready to develop further on SCP-9730’s abilities.

I don’t want the Immortal Baby to just keep us alive.

I want the Immortal Baby to help us thrive.

Project Aims: To use modern Foundation technologies to modify, alter, and develop on SCP-9730 and its conceptual link, with the goal of reproducing it as an applicable Foundation asset, and placing the Foundation itself at a much more advantageous position in manners relating to geopolitics, defensive proficiency, as well as technological prowess.

It was later discovered that during the aforementioned Veil-break mitigation state, the Chaos Insurgency took advantage of lax Foundation security due to resource reallocation, and enacted several raids at a number of high-class Foundation Sites. The majority of the stolen artefacts consisted of high-grade anomalous weaponry, experimental defensive equipment, and Mobile Task Force armor. Chaos Insurgency chatter around the time also indicated plans of an all-out Chaos Insurgency attack at Site-001 sometime in the near future.

In February 2027, the Foundation was notified of sightings of known Chaos Insurgency operatives in a district in Backdoor SoHo. Extensive monitoring of the area eventually captured an Insurgency Mission Briefing occurring in an abandoned warehouse.

CHAOS INSURGENCY BRIEFING TRANSCRIPT

Operatives Rakhul, Oppenheimer, and Napp at an inter-organization book club arranged by the Chaos Insurgency and the Yerens Against Creative Writing Association.

[Three figures enter the warehouse. The SCiPnet database identifies them as high-ranking Chaos Insurgency operatives Sean Napp, Priscilla Oppenheimer, and Clementine Rakhul.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: It’s okay, we’re here. You can show yourself now.

[A lone figure steps out of the darkness. The figure is wearing a cloak. Their face is not visible.]

Opr. Rakuhl: You’re from Delta Command, I take it?

Unknown: No.

[The three Operatives jolt back. Operative Napp draws a gun and aims it at the figure.]

Opr. Napp: Identify yourself.

Unknown: Don’t be so hasty, Operative Napp. All shall be clear in due time.

[The figure slowly unclasps their cloak, then pulls it back. The three operatives widen their eyes.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Oh my God.

Opr. Napp: I can’t say I expected that.

Opr. Rakuhl: Exactly. We have absolutely no idea who you are.

The Engineer: What? I’m the Engineer. Dir. Nicole Richmond? I founded the Chaos Insurgency.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Oh, right, right.

[Pause.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: We apologize, we never really saw, like, a picture of you.

Opr. Rakuhl: I mean, right, we did, but it was from the 1930’s, and, uh, we shoulda’ expected you’d look more…

Opr. Napp: Yeah, we uh, you look a lot older than we expected, which is natural. It’s been 80 years. And a lot bluer too, which is, uh, why is, what, why are you blue. Did you turn blue? Is that how you lived so long? By turning blue?

The Engineer: I’ve always been blue.

[Pause.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Okay.

The Engineer: That’s neither here nor there, operative. You are here to receive your mission, and I am here to provide it to you. You have an immortal child to retrieve, an impenetrable Foundation Site to infiltrate, and a man to kill.

Opr. Rakuhl: Huh. Just one man? I mean, unless the O5 Council’s undergone some downsizing recently, I always assumed we were after 13 kills.

The Engineer: Correct. The O5 Council is dead, Operative Rakhul.

[The three operatives stare at each other, then turn back to The Engineer. She lights up a cigarette.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: When, and how?

The Engineer: Recently, but we’re not sure. At least over two months ago. An internal coup by a man named Samuel Gregland.

Opr. Napp: I mean, that’s good, right? The last O5s were a nasty bunch. Sick fucks, the lot of ‘em.

The Engineer: In most circumstances, that would be true. The Council that Gregland overthrew had been especially heinous in terms of human and anomalous rights abuses. However, given the fact that most of these abuses were committed under the orders of Gregland himself, acting as one of their closest advisors, we are not expecting positive changes. He was the man who started Project Child Harness. He’s what we’ve been working towards stopping all of these months.

Opr. Oppenheimer: My God. How far have they gotten?

The Engineer: Quite far. I believe that they’ve recently had a breakthrough. Let me show you something.

[The Engineer retrieves a small box from within her cloak.]

The Engineer: About three months ago, there was a Foundation raid at a Serpent’s Hand base. This is nothing unusual, but what was unexpected was that the Foundation had only sent one agent.

Opr. Oppenheimer: One?

The Engineer: One agent. Standard Foundation arms. He had nothing else with him… but this.

[The Engineer opens the box. A small, misshapen sculpture of a baby can be seen inside. The agents recoil at the sight.]

Experimental SCP-9730-B variant, Foundation photo.

Opr. Napp: That’s one ugly baby. What happened?

The Engineer: There were almost three hundred individuals at that base. Most of them were trained fighters, meant to be best of the Hand. As skilled with offensive magic as they are with guns.

[The Engineer takes another drag of the cigarette.]

The Engineer: Only the agent walked out. There were no survivors. Before they went dark, we picked up their transmissions calling for help. They described the concrete baby statue glowing - along with the agent. They said that the agent never once reloaded, and that every single one of his shots were invariably fatal. They said both magic and bullets glanced off of his skin. As a last ditch effort, they brought half the building with him in it. He simply walked out of the rubble.

[Silence.]

Opr. Rakuhl: Christ.

Opr. Oppenheimer: They… they managed to replicate SCP-9730’s effects? For individual usage? After all this time…?

The Engineer: Not replication. Weaponization.

Opr. Napp: But… if… if they can do all that, how do you have it then?

The Engineer: Oh, I killed the agent. I took it off of him.

Opr. Oppenheimer: How?

The Engineer: With this.

[The Engineer hands Operative Oppenheimer a few pages of old paper, charred at the edges.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: These are…

The Engineer: The missing pages of the Erikesh Codex. Most of them were lost along with the Anti-Baby when Peace Haven came down, but I've always kept with me the ones that mattered. The nullification ritual. The only hope we have left of allowing the Foundation to truly die. Their one Achilles' Heel is that they are still tied to the Immortal baby itself. They’d never let you get close enough to it to free it yourself, but you can still get within range for the ritual to work, if you get to Site-001.

Opr. Rakuhl: Jesus. When do we have to go?

The Engineer: Our only opportunity comes next Saturday. A shipment of essentials will be transported to Site-001 from Site-439. If you get onto the transport vehicle beforehand, there will be a short window where Site-001’s defense comes down long enough for you to teleport inside the grounds.

Opr. Napp: Saturday!? What?! Why? That’s nothing! That’s barely any time at all!

The Engineer: Because the Foundation is trying to roll out the next phase of weaponizing SCP-9730 as soon as possible, and next Saturday is our only window of getting into Site-001 for the next decade. Because I’ve seen their plans, and if they pull it off, we can no longer stop them. No one can. Remember that agent I told you about, now imagine a world where that is every single Foundation MTF. Because…

[The Engineer falls silent. She drops her head.]

The Engineer: …Samuel Gregland killed the O5s because they’d denied the next phase of Project Child Harness. They’d gotten cold feet when they found out I managed to acquire his prototype baby. Because if we don’t do this, a mad man will rule over us all, and it would have been I who helped hasten our destruction.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Oh, Dir. Richmond…

The Engineer: Please. You three must not fail.

Opr. Rakuhl: We won’t, but… this… this _can’_t be everyone. Is there anyone else coming with us?

The Engineer: There isn’t. We do not have the numbers. Not anymore.

[All fall silent. Operative Napp paces around the room. Operative Rakhul slumps down. Tears begin to well up in the Engineer's eyes.]

The Engineer, Dir. Nicole Richmond (colorized.)

Opr. Napp: Okay, yeah, how- How hard can it be. Get into Site-001, kill Gregland, then disable the baby box. Easy peasy. Fuck.

Opr. Oppenheimer: We’ll do it.

The Engineer: I’m sorry, Priscilla. But… you know what the alternative would be. All this time, all this work. All of it to stay my hand from what could be our only path left.

Opr. Oppenheimer: No.

The Engineer: It’s… you must know of it. I’m sure Delta Command told you. Something I’d said, a long, long time ago.

Opr. Oppenheimer: We’ll do this. We’ll succeed. We’ll never let it go so far.

The Engineer: Thank you. That is all.

[All three operatives look at each other before turning and leaving. Operative Oppenheimer turns back to look at The Engineer one last time before the door closes. The Engineer stands still for several minutes before disappearing off into the darkness.]

Upon being made aware of this encounter, Site-001 staff requested that all essential personnel present at Site-001 be relocated to another facility, and that the shipment from Site-439 be cancelled. However, under direct orders of Administrator Gregland, these requests were all denied.

Administrator Gregland then requested that the shipment be delivered as planned without additional security measures, and that all Foundation personnel aside from himself would be allowed to leave prior to the arrival of the Insurgency's operatives. All security personnel were also not to be deployed, with only SCP-9730's research staff remaining in the building.

As planned, the three operatives were allowed to board Site-439's transport vehicle and enter Site-001 without incident. At around 2:16 PM, Site-001 was locked down after the operatives managed to gain control of of the Site's defense systems.

SITE-001 VIDEO LOG

Aerial view of Site-001's command room tower.

[Operative Oppenheimer bursts through the door. Her eyes are wide. She clutches the pages of the Erikesh Codex.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: No, no, no, no…

[She runs up to Operative Rakuhl, who is currently sitting at the counter, operating a variety of communication devices.]

Opr. Rakuhl: You okay? I just got in touch with a few other Insurgency members. They’ll be here any moment, I’ll let them in-

Opr. Oppenheimer: Clem, where the fuck is Sean and the Administrator?!

[Operative Rakuhl points down the hallway to the left.]

Opr. Rakuhl: I- They’re still in the command room. What’s wrong?

[Operative Oppenheimer sprints down the hallway until she runs into Operative Napp.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Sean, where the fuck is he!? Did you let him go!?

Opr. Napp: What? No, relax! He’s here! I tied him up, like you asked!

[Operative Napp gestures at a nearby bed. Operative Oppenheimer approaches it.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: You, you… you piece of shit. I shoulda’ known. It was too easy.

[Administrator Samuel Gregland is shackled to the bed. Operative Oppenheimer hovers over him.]

Adm. Gregland: Sometimes, I do wonder, Priscilla. I wonder if I really had a choice in what I could do. I wonder if my fate wasn’t sealed in stone the day I was assigned to SCP-9730.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Where is it.

Adm. Gregland: Intrinsically tied. What does that mean if not fate? And yet, what does that mean? Fate? Destiny? I always thought that my life was my own. For mine and mine alone to mold, to shape, like an artist would with a sculpture.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Where’s the baby?

Adm. Gregland: And yet, was I really in control of my fate? Were the contours of my life shaped by my hands, my chisel? Was I robbed of my agency the moment I joined the Foundation, my life flowing only along the faultlines and cracks of a concrete shell, dragged along by newborn hands? Were all our paths decided then!?

[Operative Oppenheimer leans down and shakes Administrator Gregland’s shoulders.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Where the FUCK is the BABY!?

[Administrator Gregland laughs. Specks of blood fly from his bloodied mouth.]

Adm. Gregland: I grabbed my life, Priscilla! I grabbed the hated child that controlled my every waking moment, I sought to reshape it to something else, and I find myself becoming as cruel as my creation had become. And yet, I can’t help but wonder if that too was the plan, my short bid for freedom. Which came first, Priscilla? The immortal baby, or the endless cruelty of man? Was I damned the moment I made the first cut, or was I damned all my life?

Opr. Napp: What the hell’s happening here?

Opr. Oppenheimer: I can’t find the baby! He hid it somewhere, he planned this! He made sure all of his staff stayed home, that’s why we didn’t encounter any guards! He wanted this!

Opr. Napp: No, no, that’s impossible. It must be here somewhere. It has to be.

[Operative Napp grabs a tablet and connects to Site-001’s internal security systems. He begins flipping through all of the cameras.]

Opr. Napp: Everything’s viewable from here. We just need to find it, view all of last week’s records if we have to, but… I… hang on. What is this?

Testing grounds for SCP-9730-C ("Pacifier Units")

[Operative Napp pauses on one of the cameras. It is monitoring the courtyard outside of Site-001. A number of Foundation researchers on segways can be seen, alongside a number of large, animate stone statues of babies. The researchers move from one baby to the next, apparently doing inspections.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: It’s… It’s like the thing that the Engineer showed us. But he… he finished them.

Adm. Gregland: I perfected them. The Foundation calls them SCP-9730-C. I call them my babies. Would you like to see how they operate? The power of destiny as a weapon?

[As if on cue, the SCP-9730-C instances begin to scale the walls of Site-001 at frightening speed.]

Opr. Napp: Shit!

Opr. Oppenheimer: Goddammit, you will tell us where the baby is now, or you’re gonna die here choking on your own blood. We know you couldn’t have gotten it far. We’ve been tracking shipments out of Site-001 for the last 20 years. There’s no way you would’ve transported something so valuable by teleportation, or magic, and you wouldn’t risk it out in the open like that. Site-001 is the only safe place for it. I know it’s still on-site, so where is it!?

Adm. Gregland: Did you think us so limited? Haven’t you realized that Project Child Harness, my Child Harness’s entire goal was to reject the cowardice of the Council in favor of something more? We’ve accomplished things you would never believe, and the only way we could’ve done that was by taking the biggest risk.

Opr. Oppenheimer: No, no… you… when did you move it?

Adm. Gregland: The very same month my project was approved, of course. A dozen years before you could’ve made a difference.

[Operative Oppenheimer covers her mouth.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: No, that can’t be. That can’t be! We would’ve- Someone would’ve- Something would’ve come up. Something like that can’t be hidden for over three decades. People would know about it.

[Administrator Gregland smiles.]

Adm. Gregland: People did know. From the lowliest researchers of the Foundation, to any random person on the streets of Three Portlands. I’m sure even you knew. Everyone did…

[Pause.]

Adm. Gregland: …only no one could say what it really was. We kept that close to the chest. The best way to hide something. Just put it in plain sight.

Opr. Oppenheimer: What are you talking about?!

[Administrator Gregland smiles, and points his finger at a discarded telecoms system on the floor.]

Adm. Gregland: …I’d love to explain, but would you mind picking up my comms for me? It seems to have slipped out of my hands when you burst into my office and shot me through the kneecaps.

Opr. Napp: We can’t do that!

Opr. Oppenheimer: Those babies will be here any minute now. We don’t have a choice.

[Operative Oppenheimer places the telecoms system into Administrator Gregland’s hand, holding a gun to his head. He keeps smiling as he turns it on.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Make one wrong move, and I’ll kill you.

Adm. Gregland: It’s alright. All I wanted to do is ask a question.

[The telecoms crackle to life.]

Adm. Gregland: Hullo?

Voice: Administrator Gregland, are you alright? We’re still trying to breach Site-001’s defensive-

Adm. Gregland: Oh, no. Don’t worry, my man. I’ll be fine. I just wanted to ask, how’s everyone over there at Site-19?

Opr. Oppenheimer: No. That can’t be. That-

Voice: They were doing alright when we left. Just a bit shaken at the news. We did what you asked.

Adm. Gregland: Oh, you did, did you?

Voice: Yes, sir. We’ve secured SCP-173.

The following is SCP-173's Level 6 documentation. Due to security reasons, the document is only available to members of Project CHILD HARNESS. To see the SCP-173 documentation that is available to regular Foundation personnel, see here.

SCP-173

SCP-173 in containment.

Item #: SCP-173

Object Class: Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures: As part of Protocol PEEKABOO, the true origins of SCP-173 as well as its links to the SCP-9730 project is to be completely obscured. A falsified document has been provided to Site-19 as cover, indicating that SCP-173 is a hostile low-level Euclid-class anomaly.

Description: Moved to Site-19 in 1993. Origin was as SCP-9730, an immortal child conceived by the Administrator, which has been trapped in a block of concrete. As part of Project CHILD HARNESS, SCP-9730 was redesignated with the SCP-173 label while preserving the SCP-9730 designation in place as a decoy. Through extensive research, it was discovered that SCP-173 could be modified physically and thaumaturgically without breaking the conceptual bond, for theoretically as long as baby within is not exposed.

Through the use of experimental Foundation procedures, beneficial sub-anomalies such as SCP-9730-B and SCP-9730-C have been derived from research into SCP-173. However, this has altered SCP-173's outer concrete shell to its current form.

While the anomaly is not hostile as the cover document suggests, SCP-173 began producing a reddish-brown substance composed out of human feces and blood shortly after the creation of SCP-9730-B. This detail was subsequently incorporated into the cover document. DNA testing of the substance revealed a positive match with that of former Foundation Administrator Fritz Williams.

Reports that modification of SCP-173's body has repeatedly aligned with rise of authoritarian sentiments within the upper-echelons of the Foundation is unverified, and should be completely disregarded under threat of termination.

As with its previous form, SCP-173 is conceptually tied to the SCP Foundation. As long as SCP-173 exists, so will the Foundation.

As per Administrator Gregland's orders, prior to the Chaos Insurgency's infiltration of Site-001, SCP-173 was to be secured and moved to a random, undisclosed high-security Foundation facility. Aside from the transportation crew responsible for SCP-173, no other personnel were to be informed of the location where SCP-173 was to be moved.

SITE-001 VIDEO LOG

Foundation Pacifier Units about to break into Site-001's command room.

[The telecoms lies shattered on the ground. Gregland laughs madly. Rakuhl is shouting into their communications device. Napp tries to regain access to Site-001’s security systems. Oppenheimer is sitting on the ground.]

Scan of SCP-173. Baby entity highlighted.

Adm. Gregland: They all thought it was a stupid idea, the Council. When I proposed I wanted to disguise the thing that keeps us living, they considered it. When I said I wanted to keep it at the biggest, most public Foundation Site ever, they were hesitant. When I told them I wanted it to be our mascot - to show it to every single new recruit, to put it on our posters, they thought I had gone insane.

[Gregland stops laughing.]

Adm. Gregland: And, yet it worked. SCP-173. The big concrete baby. The sculpture. The original sin.

Opr. Napp: I can’t fuckin’ access anything. They got control of everything!

Opr. Rakuhl: Goddammit, pick up, pick up-

[Someone finally picks up.]

Insurgent Leader: Hello? Rakuhl, we just made it past the border of Site-001. We’re heading towards you now.

Opr. Rakuhl: No, no! Abort, abort!

Insurgent Leader: Uh, sorry, I thought that was your part of the job.

Opr. Rakuhl: No, you- We lost the baby! We’re compromised! You have to leave!

Insurgent Leader: Well, I’m sure it’s not that bad. There’s barely anyone here. And hey, get this: We’re walking through the garden, and there’s just these giant fuckin’ statues of babies. Like, giant babies with rectangles for a face. I mean, talk about shitty interior design, right? Haven’t these guys ever heard of feng shui or-

[Human screaming can be heard on the other end of the receiver shortly before the line goes dead. Operative Rakuhl throws the device against the wall, where it shatters.]

Adm. Gregland: I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that that’ll be you soon enough. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I myself don’t know where they’ve taken the baby. There’s nothing you can get out of me but pain that’ll be inflicted worse on you a thousandfold.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Yeah.

Adm. Gregland: And furthermore, you have brought me the missing pages of the Erikesh Codex. The loop is tied. Perhaps you’ve made additional copies, or uploaded them to private servers, but all of those can be destroyed. The pages, oh, they are old magics. Sacred. And now, they are ours.

Opr. Oppenheimer: Yeppers.

Adm. Gregland: And… here they come.

[The Pacifier Units begin to congregate outside of the command room windows. They begin to rip through the solid steel and telekill-beryllum exterior of the command room.]

Adm. Gregland: Imagine an army of them. Thousands at first, just running our Sites, managing our operations for us, but then millions, then billions. They say that children can do anything as long as they put their mind to it, and it’s a lie, but ours really can. And their minds are so empty, so ready to be filled with purpose. It’s what they were made for. It’s what I was made for. We’ll have everything. The Foundation will have the world, then we’ll have the stars. You see? Infinite containment.

Opr. Oppenheimer: It seems you’ve gotten this pretty well-sorted out, huh? You coulda’ killed us, but you just let us get inside so your babies can do the job?

Adm. Gregland: That’s what good parents do. They prepare their children for life. I simply pity you. Your insurgency sent you to die. You, the last embers of a dying resistance. No way out, no back-up plan.

[Operative Oppenheimer snickers.]

Adm. Gregland: And we’ll have your Engineer soon enough, and… what is it? What is so funny?

Opr. Oppenheimer: Nothing, it’s just… you thought so? You thought that’s what this is? The last gasp of the Insurgency? You think this is our last ditch effort?

Adm. Gregland: Is it not? Your splinter cell is finally dying. You do not have the numbers. You appear strong when you are weak. The stunt you pulled with the flyers was humorous, but ineffectual. You stole weapons you knew could never even dent our might, and you faked chatter that you knew we’d pick up, spreading rumors of a war you did not have troops to fight with. All to serve as a distraction, and for what? A comedy trio? Yes, I humored you, because it was comical, and- where is the humor here?

[Operative Oppenheimer laughs.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Hahahah, oh my God. Oh, my God! You really- You really thought- Okay, I’m sorry, okay…

[Operative Oppenheimer stops laughing, then turns on her own comms. Her face goes blank.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Mission failed. Do it.

[Operatives Rakuhl and Napp turn to Oppenheimer. Their face pales.]

Adm. Gregland: …what was that?

[Operative Oppenheimer opens her mouth, then closes it after a few seconds. Then, she speaks.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: The raids, the chatter, and the flyers, they weren’t to distract you from this mission, you idiot. Did you really think we’d even entertain the possibility of a siege with the Foundation?

Adm. Gregland: Then, pray, what was it for?

[Operative Oppenheimer sighs.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: We hacked your nuclear warhead arrays.

[Pause.]

Adm. Gregland: I’m… sorry?

Opr. Oppenheimer: We converted some of your high-ranking personnel a while ago, and some of those high-ranking personnel had access to their on-site nukes, and we repeated that at enough of your nuclear-armed sites. That’s what the distractions were for. Our operatives aren’t dead, you dumbass. It just takes a lot of people to operate a nuclear arsenal.

[Gregland’s jaw is agape. Oppenheimer chews on her tongue for a few seconds before turning to him again.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Us being here was the last-ditch attempt at not having to go down that route. I just told the Engineer to launch them all.

Adm. Gregland: I… how… how many?

Opr. Oppenheimer: Enough.

Adm. Gregland: To do what, exactly?!

Opr. Oppenheimer: Enough.

[The two other Operatives look at each other forlornly. Then they embrace.]

Adm. Gregland: Why!?

Opr. Oppenheimer: Just something someone said a long time ago, y’know? That she’ll get the baby, and that she’ll burn the whole world down if she has to. And, well…

[Oppenheimer pulls out a small plastic bag of a dry green substance.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: It seems we can't have the baby, so, uh, you can't have the world. Maybe your Foundation’ll survive, but that should make things a lot harder for you for a bit.

[Oppenheimer rummages around in her back pocket.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Y’know, I was against it, I figure things couldn’t be so bad, even if we failed, but uh, you really got me with that “infinite containment” spiel. Really good speech. Really helped, uh, putting things into perspective. Do you have paper? Oh, wait. Nevermind.

[She retrieves something from her left pocket.]

Adm. Gregland: …how long do we have?

Opr. Oppenheimer: Oh, uh…

[She turns to the window. The Pacifier Unit babies have managed to melt their way through to the central area of the tower, and were right outside the command room.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: About the same time until those things reach us. So, I’d say a minute? 2 minutes top? Jeepers Creepers, am I right?

[Gregland says nothing. Oppenheimer fashions the pages of the Erikesh Codex into several marijuana cigarettes. She picks one up and ignites one end.]

Opr. Oppenheimer: Blunt?

The remainder of the footage could not be recovered due to the destruction of the Site-001 data archive (along with most of human civilization) by nuclear detonation.

Chapter 4: The Baby And The Post-Apocalypse (2084)

XK-Class Management has often put the amount of time it would take for a single SCP-2000 activation cycle to end at around 15 years post-activation. However, these figures were based on the assumption that there would be a considerable amount of pre-existing infrastructure as well as accessible pre-XK resources.

Due to the extensive damage of the Chaos Armageddon incident (the deaths of at least 84% of humanity as well as most of the planet’s ecosystems and city centers) however, researchers were advised that these numbers could be considered slightly unreliable.

The following is the template for an introduction letter to personnel newly re-inducted into the Foundation after the 2079 activation of SCP-2000.

A MESSAGE FROM THE ADMINISTRATOR

Welcome to the new Site-001!

Greetings, [Doctor/Agent/Engineer/Janitor…] [FULL NAME]!

If you’re reading this then you have been selected for revival after the 2026 Chaos Armageddon event that rendered most of the planet's surface uninhabitable. This is because you have been deemed an invaluable member in the field of [Research/Containment/Construction/Sanitation…], and an individual that the Foundation simply cannot do without. As such, prior to your death, a complete scan of your neural archetype was stored within SCP-2000’s database for this exact occasion.

Enclosed within this introduction letter is a map of the current Site-001 Foundation Headquarters based out of SCP-2000’s facility. Upon exiting your Hominid Replicator pod, please familiarize yourself with the contents of the map, and make your way to Room 3.4B to receive your new assignments!

Newly-revived employees struggling with FRIENDS can pick up a pamphlet near the exit.

Once again, we’d like to thank you for your services to the Foundation!

Secure, Contain, Protect.
-Foundation Administrator Calvin Bold

Among the Foundation personnel who were replicated, one of them was Dr. Pat**[ERROR]**

[DATA MISSING.]

[DATA MISSING.]

[CATASTROPHIC DATA FAILURE.]

VitaMontauk: Woah, calm down! Take it easy! You don’t have to go through this part if you don't want. Just carry on without saying it. I don’t want it any harder for you.

[REBOOTING.]

[REBOOTING.]

[CONTINUING W/ NEW PARAMETERS.]

Among the Foundation personnel who were replicated, one of them was Dr. ███████ █████████ █████, who prior to his death served as an archivist for the Foundation’s Department Of Tactical Theology. The following is an excerpt from Dr. █████’s initial role-assignment interview with the current Foundation Administrator, Calvin Bold.

Job Interview: Dr. ███████ █████████ █████

Dr. █████, Archivist, Tactical Theology.

Adm. Bold: Well, we’re still setting things up. It hasn’t been easy, that’s for sure. Turns out reinventing agriculture’s a bit of a pain in the ass, even with the ol’ Deus Ex Machina up and running. Replicant efficiency’s been way down due to some equipment malfunction no one bothered to fix, but that’s just as well, because we don’t have anywhere to house em’ or food to feed them anyways, unless we go soylent green real quick.

Dr. █████: How… how far along are we?

Adm. Bold: Not very far, I’m afraid. We have something resembling civilization here at the new Site-001, and we’re working on replicating Site Directors now that we’re beginning to spread out again. Next up, we’re probably gonna try and check out if there’s any automated Foundation installations still working here. Stuff in those automated containment sites might do us some good.

Dr. █████: Then… why me? I can’t imagine Tactical Theology archivism would be much of a priority right now.

Adm. Bold: Oh, no. We’re thinking of giving you a Parahistory role under the new RAISA! You’ll be helping us with historical archivism as well as employee perspective evaluation. Seems similar enough to your old job, doesn’t it?

Dr. █████: I guess? But I’m not sure why I was considered over… just replicating actual RAISA personnel?

Adm. Bold: Oh, well, come on, ████. You’re scrappy. You’re resilient. You don’t take shit from no one, and you-

Dr. █████: You didn’t have the RAISA personnel files on hand, did you?

[Pause.]

Adm. Bold: Yeah.

Dr. █████: Oh, come on, just say so next time. I mean, I’m not even the real ████. I couldn’t really care even if I tried.

Adm. Bold: Aw, come on, we made a choice to choose you from our pool anyhow. Frankly, I vouched for you. We knew each other from before being resurrected. Kinda? Sorta? And obviously, you’ve got the right mentality for the job. Says here on your file that you’re a bit of a nihilist, so you’ll fit right in, a bit manipulatable - which I’m pretty sure is in the part I’m not supposed to say out loud, and that you’ve “got the entire database within your head.” I could always use a man with photographic memory!

Dr. █████: That last part wasn’t a metaphor.

Adm. Bold: It isn’t?

Dr. █████: No. My own memory’s pretty much same as baseline.

[Administrator Bold reads through the file again.]

Adm. Bold: Okay, so it isn’t. Huh. Is it… is it still-

Dr. █████: 2000 only replicates DNA and neural archetypes, not anomalous attributes, so…

Adm. Bold: Dang, alright, but we work with what we can. Do you have any questions?

Dr. █████: Yyyyes. Why don’t you have RAISA personnel on hand, actually? I mean, come to think of it, I assume they’d be pretty important, so they should be in 2000’s database.

[Administrator Bold sighs and waves his hand.]

Adm. Bold: It’s… always been a bit of a crapshoot. We’re never ready, and these little nuclear apocalypses never pan out the way you expect them to. The database is heavily corrupted, some parts worse than others. We’ve got technical personnel down there 24/7 trying to pull usable profiles- no offense- out of there, but right as it stands, we’re missing a lot of important people. Most of the RAISA staff is one of them.

Dr. █████: I’m sorry to hear. That must be frustrating.

Adm. Bold: Tell me about it! Most of modern Foundation history is garbled trash. I tried to bring back Agent Break and she came back as a pile of radioactive tumors. I had to bring back Light five different times to run the Department Of Biology. I could find one guy, count them, one for the Department Of Thaumaturgy, and he was born in the 19th century, and then he just flat-out bailed, so we just don’t have a Department Of Thaumaturgy now, at least until they finish debugging Moose’s profile.

Dr. █████: And they had to bring back Calvin Bold as Foundation Administrator.

[Administrator Bold shrugs.]

Adm. Bold: That’s just the issues we have right now within the Foundation. We tried to bring back public figures for the civilian restoration efforts, and it turns out all we’ve managed to decode so far have been seven different versions of Ronald Reagan, but no one said that the apocalypse would be easy.

Dr. █████: Yeah. I guess, uh, I’ll just ask you where I’ll be working at?

Adm. Bold: Oh, just take the elevator to the surface and go to Room 73.25X. We have a storage room we’re currently renovating.

Dr. █████: Okay. And, what are my duties, exactly?

Adm. Bold: It’s just the usual stuff. You’ll be sorting through whatever scraps of the historical database that the technicians can find, try to form a cohesive timeline of things, see where we went wrong, y’know? And maybe a few times a day, you’ll just go out and get some folk’s perspectives on things. Get a grip on the hearts of the people.

Dr. █████: So, what. I sort through old documents and go interview people?

Adm. Bold: Yeah. Usually, it wouldn’t be an issue, but you seemed like the right person to deal with the “Immortal Baby Trapped In Concrete” situation.

[Pause.]

Adm. Bold: I said, you seemed like the right person to deal with the “Immortal Baby Trapped In-“

Dr. █████: Yeah, no, I heard you the first time, I'm just waiting for the elevator.

Adm. Bold: Alright, sorry. Force of habit.

It is believed that during the events of the Chaos Armageddon, the SCP-173 transportation staff was in the middle of transporting SCP-9730 when the Foundation’s nuclear arsenal detonated. It is believed that SCP-9730 helped preserve the transportation vehicle in the midst of the following nuclear fallout.

Profile: Foundationatalism

A commune of The Sacred Order Of The Founder Baby, circa 2045.

The surviving personnel of the SCP-173 transportation team promptly established an apocalyptic religion based around the SCP Foundation and SCP-9730 as a sacred artifact as per basic XK-Class protocols established by the Unorthodox Solutions Division.

The existence and spread of the religion (known as “Foundationatalism”) and the resulting religious organization (“The Sacred Order Of The Founder Baby”) apparently fulfilled SCP-9730’s stipulation of preserving the Foundation. Over the next several decades, Foundationatalism would become the predominant faith among the continental US wasteland’s dwindling population, becoming more popular than contemporary apocalypse-era faiths such as Christian Nihilism and Radioactive Sarkicism.

This eventually culminated in a mass pilgrimage event in 2064 where 100,000 followers began marching towards Yellow Stone National Park along with SCP-9730, as per the final orders of the now-deceased SCP-173 transportation team, who has since been deified as living prophets. After a long list of conflicts with other faiths, this march would finally end in 2079 when the group managed to gain access to SCP-2000’s facilities and was able to initiate Procedure Lazarus-01 shortly before being terminated by SCP-2000’s security systems.

As expected, the Foundation’s civilization reconstruction efforts began soon after, with SCP-9730 being promptly recontained. Due to a lack of resources as well as a disorganized employee hierarchy however, information control regarding SCP-9730 was deemed unfeasible, and the item quickly became public knowledge among Foundation staff.

Administrator Bold would make several statements on the topic, one of which has been transcribed below.

Statement: Foundation Response

Foundation Administrator Bold.

"Okay, hey. I know not everyone's too happy with this arrangement, that's clear. I know it doesn't exactly look too good on paper, either. I mean, the entire Foundation-ran World Order is entirely powered by a forsaken child trapped in a concrete block for all time using ancient Erikeshan voodoo magic. On-the-nose, much? Come on.

You all know me, I'm Dr. Calvin Bold, and I love babies as much as the next guy, but it's a simple fact that in our current post-apocalyptic state of affairs, we cannot take any chances! If anything, keeping SCP-9730 contained in order to preserve our current restoration efforts is the most humane thing that we can do.

Hell, I'm sure that even SCP-9730 itself would agree. If we asked it, "SCP-9730, could we please keep you contained indefinitely inside of your concrete block in order to help civilization recover from the brink of nuclear annihilation?" it would simply nod, and reply, "Say no more. Do what you must."

In fact, it might be more cruel if we'd tried to get it out. It's been in there for 2 centuries now. Who's to say it hasn't evolutionarily adapted to the concrete? What if we remove it, and it just dies a slow agonizing death? Is that what you want? Do you want the baby to die a slow, horrific agonizing death? Do you? What's wrong with you?"

A fragile peace would endure through the following years as Site-001 expanded, with important personnel slowly refilling the Foundation ranks. However, anti-Foundation sentiments, especially due to awareness of SCP-9730 remained a consistent problem as prominent figures in the community began spreading their own potentially-disruptive philosophies, necessitating increased Foundation involvement.

In 2084, Dr. █████ was the first to be assigned to the role of employee perspective evaluation, as part of the newly re-established RAISA. Several notable excerpts of his interviews have been transcribed below.

Interview: Baby-Accelerationism.

Scarlet Herald Adrian Green.

Dr. █████: Mr. Green. In your past life, you were a tech magnate and popular media personality. For the past two years, you’ve also worked as one of the Foundation’s tech consultants on the repair of SCP-2000. I’ve heard from some of the engineers that you’ve been telling them some pretty radical ideas about the Foundation and SCP-9730. Would you mind me asking about them?

Mr. Green: Right, you must know that before the apocalypse, I was something of a big deal, even among other billionaires. I was quite the head honcho, the big chungus, yes?

Dr. █████: No.

Mr. Green: Now, back then, the folks at the ICBI could tell you that I was a huge proponent of Circuitous-Accelerationism. I saw it as the only path forward in a world that was quickly becoming embroiled in petty conflicts, media manipulation, and cancel culture. I was so sure of myself, you see, so adamant that the only way we could cure ourselves was to create our primal utopia in the loving omnipotent bosoms of a scarlet silicate overlord. As all other failed philosophies slowly rotted away, liberalism, social-marxism, and wokeness, I maintained that this was the only path to survival. And then… the bombs dropped, and only the Foundation rose from the ashes, then I knew I was wrong.

Dr. █████: So what, you’re pro-Foundation now because we’re still here and the ICBI isn’t?

Mr. Green: Far from it! I see it all so clearly, why my calculations were inaccurate. I never understood how I’d been so blind. Because I was correct, you see. The DEI Foundation had cheated. They cared not for what’s natural, they cared not for evolution, and in this game, they have suppressed our divine rationalism with a loaded immortal baby dice. We see that the Foundation walks the path of concrete, in more ways than one, and they have now cemented us all to it. It isn’t right.

Dr. █████: So, what exactly do you propose?

Mr. Green: Circuitous-Accelerationism cannot exist in this world as long as the Foundation in its wokeness deals unfair cards. Neither can any other philosophies. In this world, there must be an alternative. I present to you: Baby-Accelerationism. My own brainchild. The path that everyone must take if Western Civilization is to survive with its freedom. It is how we shall restore our prophecized homeland.

Dr. █████: And… how are you planning on doing that?

Mr. Green: It is simple. First, we must eat the Immortal Baby.

Interview: On Dependence.

Former Site-17 Director Thomas Graham.

Dr. █████: And as someone who once directed the second-largest Foundation facility, how would you describe your views of Administrator Bold’s current stances on SCP-9730?

Dr. Graham: Do I envy the Administrator Bold’s position? No, of course not, and all of us who still remember what happened to the Administrator before him would say the same. The position of leading the Foundation is an unenviable one. However, I still maintain that there are certain decisions that he has made that cannot be justified at all regardless.

Dr. █████: Huh, really? Well, if you don’t mind, could you tell me more about these decisions of his that you disagree with?

Dr. Graham: Absolutely. While I understand that desperate times call for desperate measures, and I agree with such common-sense policies that he has instated such as mandatory food rationing, the strict punishment for insubordination, and the death penalty for excessive tardiness, I believe that there are lines that we cannot, must not cross as men of science and rationale. And yet Administrator Bold… has almost certainly trampled these lines.

Dr. █████: You don’t say. Tell me more.

Dr. Graham: I would, but I fear that this discussion is of a sensitive nature. You see, I believe his behavior is directly a result of his… dependence, for lack of a better word, on SCP-9730. This is something I’d rather not reach his ears, if you understand.

Dr. █████: All too well, my friend. Your secret is safe with me.

Dr. Graham: Alright. My grievance is, of course, with the ban on physical testing on SCP-9730. That sort of scientific disallowance is something I cannot abide as a man of science.

Dr. █████: Right!, I know! I had the same thoughts- Wait, I’m sorry, what?

Dr. Graham: I know! It’s fucking ludicrous! I’m not asking to microwave the little shit, I just wanted flesh samples!

Interview: On Philosophy.

Foundation Dr. August G. Snorlison.

Dr. Snorlison: And of course, it's been a dynamic that has gone on since the dawn of time, not just the Foundation. Not just the jailor and the inmate, but that of the caretaker and the child. It is not simply that the Immortal Baby is a metaphor, of course the baby is the Foundation, or Humanity, or any man or woman or otherwise roaming our collective streets and gutters in search of meaning, or purpose, perhaps some faulty pretense of both that one can cling to in order to outlast this brief existence before encountering our next bout of dispassionate nihilism, and of course the block of concrete represents other peoples, or whatever institutions or trappings of the human soul that we think disallows us from our former goals. Sometimes, the baby and the concrete are one and the same.

Dr. Snorlison: Sometimes, it is the baby that traps the concrete, and not vice versa. That’s why the baby is immortal, my friend, because it has no start, and it will have no end. The Foundation cannot even claim that it is specific to our cause, because it is a dynamic that has occurred in every home, every school, every institution, every time more than a single individual congregates in the same vicinity. No, we are not special, though nothing truly is - we are simply one more stepping stone on the process of perfecting the dynamic. This time, the metaphor is literal - and yet is literality the end-all be-all of it? Why, I think not. I think not at all.

Dr. Snorlison: Some say the universe is an egg. I could say that the universe is an immortal baby trapped forever in concrete, and yet this would simply do a disservice to the infinite other things that the universe is, but it certainly feels like one of the metaphors that more accurately describes the state that we are all in. Perhaps somewhere out there, in the infinities above, there is a Greater World, with a Greater Foundation, with their own Greater Immortal Baby in a concrete dilemma. Perhaps their ethical dilemma is more complex, more simple. Some find the idea terrifying, that even greater beings than us would struggle with such an absurd concept. I personally, however, feel a sense of comfort. Comfort that, even in beings of such greatness, we would find struggles so similar to our own. Comfort that, in these matters of the heart and the mind, we are the same as gods.

Dr. Snorlison: However, that is simply my thoughts on the matter. How could I help you?

Dr. █████: I… I haven’t… I haven’t asked you anything.

Interview: On Theology.

Famed Foundation Novelist, Dr. Athen Fluff.

Dr. Fluff: I feel like we’re going to Hell. Not just speaking as individuals, not even as an organization, I think. I feel like as an entire species, we’ve damned ourselves by the simple fact that this is something we’ve somehow made a serious point of discussion.

Dr. Fluff: Like, imagine God shows up, he checks in, and he asks, “Hey, guys, what are you up to?” and we’re like “Alright, so we’re talking about whether it’s morally acceptable to dunk an immortal baby into some concrete,” then we’re definitely going to Hell. Or if there isn’t Hell, someone’s actually just gotta build one specifically for us when we get there.

Dr. Fluff: I’m sorry, look, I know I’m rambling. I just don’t know how things got to this point-

Dr. █████: No, no, please. Please. Please keep talking. I beg you.

On August 23rd, 2084, cameras picked up Dr. █████ encountering an unseen individual on his way back to his dormitory from his RAISA office. A transcript of the following conversation has been recorded below.

SITE-001 GROUNDS VIDEO LOG

[Dr. █████ can be seen walking into the frame carrying along with him several packages of rations. He walks past a number of buildings. Suddenly, a voice calls to him from the alley.]

Unknown: Dr. ███████ █████████ █████.

[Dr. █████ turns.]

Unknown: Stay right there. Don’t look in this direction. You’ll regret it if you do.

Dr. █████: …is this a stick-up? I’m sorry, man. We’re all clones. We don’t really value our own lives this much out here.

Unknown: And yet, here you are. Because you’ve still got values you live for. I’ve been watching you. You’re a man… in search of a greater purpose, aren’t you?

Dr. █████: Oh, dammit. What do you want this time?

Unknown: The same things you do. I understand you’re fed up with it all. The Foundation’s degeneracy. It’s hesitation to do the obvious right thing. A part of you notices, doesn’t it? It screams, “this is not natural, this isn’t right,” ain’t that right, fella?

Dr. █████: Just spit out the sales pitch already.

Unknown: I know a way to stop them. I know a way to restore the way things always were. I know how to remove the baby from the equation.

Dr. █████: Oh, come on. Do you know how many people I’ve talked to wanted to kill SCP-9730 today? Look, that’s not original. It’s a baby, killing the baby’s supposed to be shocking, big deal.

Unknown: That’s not what I said. What if I were to tell you, I have the means to separate the Foundation from the conceptual bond of the immortal child? That’s what you were growing wary of, that the Foundation was turning into beasts because of its reliance on the baby?

Dr. █████: You don’t know what I feel, man. You know I’m gonna have to report this, right?

Unknown: Well, so be it. But if you ever change your mind… on the 29th of every month, I will be there on the roof of the Department Of Parahistory’s main building. I’ll be seeing you.

Dr. █████: Whatever.

[Dr. █████ stands still for several minutes, before slowly turning his head. Seeing that the alley is empty, he looks around once then continues on his way.]

He does not report the encounter. Why did he not report the encounter. Why did he not report the encounter. Why did he not report the encounter.
Why did he not report the encounter.
Why did he not report the encounter.
Why did he not report the encounter.

VitaMontauk: Woah, you're doing it again! Focus, you're almost there!

He does not report the encounter. Later that day, he returns to the RAISA office with his HMCL Supervisor, Dr. Southey, after another bout of interviews.

RAISA VIDEO LOG

Experimental Foundation Transporter - Do not use without clear authorization.

Dr. Southey: Bad day at work?

Dr. █████: More of the same. You ever feel like everyone’s gone crazy? Like, I can’t believe this is my life. I mean, it isn’t. I just can’t believe that in the grand scheme of consciousness, this is what I get.

Dr. Southey: Uh huh, very relatable. Y’know, usually people get past the existential crisis after the first 3 months or so.

Dr. █████: Guess I’m just taking a while. Might be something to the “everyone’s gone crazy” thing, though. I wonder if something was fucked in SCP-2000’s database when it brought us all back. How’s your work going? I haven’t checked in in a while.

Senior RAISA Personnel, Dr. Southey.

[Dr. Southey smiles and turns back.]

Dr. Southey: Amazingly, actually. We just had another breakthrough. Wanna see?

Dr. █████: Sure, would be a welcome reprieve for me after the meeting I just had with Bold.

[Dr. Southey smiles and walks to a nearby complex looking device. She turns on a terminal. A nearby pod next to the device opens. Dr. █████ raises an eyebrow.]

Dr. █████: Wait, is that… is that the transporter? You managed to fix it?

Dr. Southey: Sure did. You wanna do the honors?

Dr. █████: I’ll… I’ll pass. I remember teleporting back when I was alive. The only thing those things are good for is for jamming things into walls.

Dr. Southey: It doesn’t just teleport. Look, I’ll do it. Stay back from the center, okay?

[Dr. Southey pushes a button. The machine whirrs to life. A glowing ball of light begins to manifest in the middle of the room. It pulses and grows.]

Dr. █████: Holy crap. It’s… It’s…

Dr. Southey: A miniature wormhole. We didn’t think we could get that function to work again, but…

[The glowing ball flattens into a two-dimensional plane. The plane turns from white to clear. Another room can be seen on the other end. It appears to be another Foundation facility. Dr. █████ slowly walks from the front of it to the back, and to the front again.]

Dr. █████: Wow.

Dr. Southey: Damn feat of engineering, I tell ya’.

Dr. █████: Absolutely… where does it lead?

Dr. Southey: Uh, well, some underground facility in Maine. One of the old high-value security installations. Designed to be impenetrable… unless you can cast a wormhole directly inside it, of course.

Dr. █████: Is… is that it?

[Dr. █████ points to the other side of the wormhole. At the end of the facility on the other side is a thick glass enclosure. Within the glass enclosure is a large amount of wiring and tubings connected to a singular chamber. Within the chamber is SCP-9730, still suspended within its SCP-173 concrete exterior.]

Dr. Southey: Sure is. We moved it here a couple days ago. Bold figures it’s a bit more secure than having it in the facility. The one we’ve still got here is a decoy. It’s to look at, huh? You know, the Foundation managed to scan its physiology a couple times before things went bad. Some new tech by Unorthodox.

Dr. █████: We did, huh? Is it… is it still alive?

[Dr. Southey makes a face.]

Dr. Southey: We don’t know. We don’t even know if it even is a baby anymore. We thought there were no heart beats, at first, but… turns out there are. Just… incredibly slow ones. Nothing that makes biological sense. We tried to scan its brain, and the results were similarly nonsensical.

Dr. █████: What, no activity?

Dr. Southey: Too much activity. Too much to make out what any of it is.

Dr. █████: …does that mean that it’s suffering?

Dr. Southey: No. Maybe. I don’t know. We literally can’t tell. But well, it’s an anomalous immortal baby. We don’t expect anything about it to make sense, anyways.

Dr. █████: Christ. I wonder what it’d look like when it breaks open.

Dr. Southey: If it ever breaks open. It’s been over 2 centuries and it’s still there. Might be 2 centuries more before anything happens.

Dr. █████: Why’s it hooked up like that, though? I mean, those wires and tubes.

Dr. Southey: Oh, that… I’m not really sure. Bold told me it’s something they’re trying, using the old blueprints from Unorthodox. I think it’s supposed to be feeding the Foundation’s database into the pod.

Dr. █████: Why would they do that?

[Dr. Southey shrugs.]

Dr. Southey: Probably trying to influence it into giving the Foundation more specific outcomes. Seems like that’s what they were trying to do before the nukes… I should probably deactivate this.

[Dr. Southey deactivates the transporter. The wormhole manifests. Dr. █████ continues staring in the direction where SCP-9730 was at.]

Dr. █████: Y’know. It’s a weird feeling, looking at the thing that ended the world.

Dr. Southey: That thing didn’t end the world. The Chaos Insurgency and the Foundation did.

[Dr. █████ turns to look at Dr. Southey, who’s still tinkering with the transporter.]

Dr. █████: You read my historical notes?

Dr. Southey: Oh, that stuff? Yeah, I read it.

Dr. █████: How’d you feel about it?

[Dr. Southey pauses.]

Dr. Southey: I feel like it was really dumb… but, y’know. I’m not surprised that the Foundation accidentally blew up the world trying to weaponize a baby. How’d it make you feel?

Dr. █████: How’d it make me feel? I don’t know, it made me feel ashamed to be Foundation? It made me feel ashamed to even be human? I first died years before it happened - and my God, that’s weird to say - and by that point, I really thought I was working towards something meaningful. But then, it turns out we all just turned into weird baby-fascists and killed ourselves.

Dr. Southey: I mean, yeah. What are you getting at?

Dr. █████: And then I look up, and I see we’re doing the same fucking thing here! We’re all just weird baby-fascists again, we’re hooking the thing up to weird tubes again, we’ve basically got a weird apocalypse totalitarian state thing goin’ on. The records for our greatest failure shouldn’t read like next week’s timetable! We might as well resurrect Administrator Gregland and get on with it.

Dr. Southey: I hear they’re doing that at tomorrow’s meeting.

[Silence.]

Dr. Southey: Kidding, of course. I feel the same way. I don’t like it anymore than you do, but it’s not like I can do anything about it at the moment.

Dr. █████: So, what, you’re not even gonna try?

[Dr. Southey sighs then turns around.]

Dr. Southey: Look, okay, what’s your plan? I turn on the wormhole again, you break through 9730’s impenetrable security systems, you grab it and evade the entirety of the Foundation’s security, and then… what? Where do you go from here? You take a pickaxe to the the baby, freeing it and potentially collapsing the Foundation alongside the only current semblance of human civilization, because we don’t actually know how to remove it safely? You run off into the desert, survive off of fleshbeasts and whatever anomalous creatures now roam the US, carrying a block of concrete everywhere you go trying to hide from the Foundation? What’s the plan here?

[Dr. █████ looks down, raises his arms, then lowers them. Dr. Southey turns back.]

Dr. Southey: Look, you’re a good person, I get that, and you wanna good person all over the place. But c’mon. Being a good person is just not in the cards right now. So I’ll keep doing my job, biding my time, and you do the same, because that’s the thing. If you wanna do good, and you don’t have a plan, then you might very well cause things to get much worse.

It is noted that after the previous incident, Dr. █████’s behavior in subsequent interviews was noticeably affected. For comparison, several notable excerpts from his later interviews have been transcribed below.

Interview: Moral Opposition.

Former Site-19 Director Tilda Moose.

Dr. █████: And what would you say?

Dr. Moose: I’m not saying that the notion isn’t completely abhorrent. Far from it. But we have to understand the current circumstances that we are in. We know of no other civilization restoration effort that has reached our current level, anomalous or otherwise. Bold is right in that regards, that if our effort fails, humanity is likely doomed.

Dr. █████: So, you’re saying it’s… circumstantial.

Dr. Moose: Yes. Unfortunately, we are in the only set of circumstances in which containing the immortal child in this manner can be viewed as the correct choice. In all other circumstances, if the Foundation was operating in a healthy manner, if the state of the world was at baseline, I would no doubt be vehement against the proposal. Yet, we do not have the luxury of peace time. Make no mistake, I consider it to have been a great betrayal to what I thought was the Foundation’s core tenets that so many Overseers have covered up-

Dr. █████: Betrayal! Yeah, like, like when you’re just trying… to do good and someone you thought was an alright person suddenly starts… getting on your case! About it! Right?

Dr. Moose: I mean, that’s not how I would describe it, but I would imagine so.

Interview: Civilian Perspective.

Civilian Oswald J. Kaine.

Mr. Kaine: So, yeah, I was comin’ home from work one evening to see my wife and kids, and then suddenly, I’m here in some pod in some sci-fi factory situation, and then there was this guy with the weird eyes telling me that it was 70 years in the future? Then he tells me that I was a clone, and that the world’s ended, and all my family, and also, the original me is dead, so I gotta help them rebuild civilization?

Dr. █████: Yeah, yeah, I get that.

Mr. Kaine: So I spend the next few months trying to re-learn how to design buildings in 4-dimension and how to forge, I don’t know, anti-kill and beryllium-bronze. Then, apparently, some red guy with a robot head comes into my town and tells me there’s an immortal baby trapped in concrete in the weird-eyes guy’s office, so he needs me and all of my neighbors to storm the office and steal the baby back, and then it turns out the baby isn’t a metaphor, and apparently the only thing the people in power talk about all day is about what to do with the immortal baby? So, yeah, that’s been my experience so far.

Dr. █████: Right, right, it feels like a complete inversion of everything you thought you knew about the paranormalcy organization you’ve dedicated your life to, right?

Mr. Kaine: Buddy, I feel like we’re having two different conversations, here.

Interview: On Courage.

Agent Karen M. Eduarte, alias "Break".

Dr. █████: Right?! Right! You get it, you get it!

Agent Break: I get it, man, I get it. Like, that’s what being a Foundation Agent is, for me. Sometimes, you just gotta go and get it, you know? Sometimes, you gotta charge ahead if you wanna make a difference.

Dr. █████: Exactly. Fucking exactly. Oh, man, you understand me so well. Like, just, genuinely, thank you for the advice!

Agent Break: It’s no issue, man. We Foundation folks gotta stick together, alright? Can ya’ gimme some more of that?

Dr. █████: Yeah, fire in the hole!

[Dr. █████ pours a bottle of liquor into one of the open mouths on Agent Break’s humongous tumorous body.]

Agent Break: Now, that’s the good stuff.

Dr. █████: Hell yeah. RAISA benefits, huh? I should try some-

Agent Break: Dude, don’t fucking do that! You wanna go sterile!?

[Dr. █████ removes his hand from the bottom of his radiation safety suit.]

Dr. █████: Oh, shit, right. Good call.

Interview: Personal Accountability.

Foundation Dr. Amelia Buck.

[Dr. █████ is mumbling indistinctly.]

Dr. █████: …but I can't do that, because Bold's got security there too, and if he views the door's security log, then I'll only have a few seconds to bypass it, except there's no way to really make it if I'm carrying along the damn thing…

Dr. █████: …dammit. I can't do this on my own, not without help, but no one knows… unless… unless…

Dr. Buck: I'm sorry, are you asking me to help hide a dead body?

Dr. █████: Quiet, let me think.

On September 29th, he
He.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck

VitaMontauk: It’s okay, you’re nearly there.

Fuck why did __ do it why did _ do it why d_d _ __ __ w_y i

VitaMontauk: Just one more bad spot to get through.

On

On

On September 29th, Dr. █████ enters the Department Of Parahistory’s main building. He immediately walks up to the roof top. He encounters a man in a long black cloak. His hood is off, and the man is smoking a cigarette.

Interview: Unknown.

Unknown.

Dr. █████: Hey, look, I’ve been considering your proposition lately, and-

[The hooded figure whips around, exposing his face for several seconds before putting out his cigarette and pulling his hood on.]

Hooded Figure: What the blazes- It’s the middle of the fucking day! Why in God's name didn’t you come at night!?

Dr. █████: Dude, because I don’t want to get shiv’d. I… I’m sorry, hey, have we met before? You looked… familiar.

Hooded Figure: You must be mistaken.

Dr. █████: Oh, seriously. If I’m gonna let you do what you say you wanna do, you’re gonna have to try a bit harder than that. Who are you? Why the hell are you wearing what I can only assume is the Theater Department’s reproduction of an Erikeshan Liferobe?

[Silence.]

Hooded Figure: I was… part of the Chaos Insurgency. I defected, tried to take down the Foundation due to its abuse of the baby. They didn’t realize who I was when they brought me back. There are cameras everywhere. If they saw my face, I’d be killed - along with your chances of ever changing things.

[The figure turns back to Dr. █████, who sighs.]

Dr. █████: I guess that’s believable. Maybe I knew you from work. Tell me. How exactly do you plan on breaking the conceptual bond.

[The hooded figure holds up an extremely decrepit piece of paper.]

Hooded Figure: The final page of the Erikesh Codex. I remembered where The Engineer stashed it from my previous life. These long years, I waded across the wastelands for it, and I’ve returned to finish my mission. If you’d just show me how to get to the baby…

Dr. █████: That’s admirable. But what’s to prevent me from just taking your paper and doing it myself? Cut out the middle-man?

Hooded Figure: Do you know how to read and speak ancient Erikeshan?

[Pause.]

Dr. █████: No, but I know some clever people who do.

Hooded Figure: And are these people willing to work with you on this matter?

[Longer pause. Dr. █████ rubs his temples.]

Dr. █████: Come to the main RAISA building after dark. We’ll do it quick. You do your ritual, there might be a way to get the baby out without anyone even noticing it’s gone. Then, we never see each other again.

Hooded Figure: You won’t regret this.

Dr. █████: Okay, but, one more question. Why me?

Hooded Figure: Well, in the world that I came from, the fellas at RAISA always seemed to have all the answers, and you… you looked trustworthy.

what have I done

what have I done

Shit

VitaMontauk: It's okay.

VitaMontauk: This is the ending. You just have to make it through this part. Then, we can fix this.

VitaMontauk: Together.

okay

okay

That night, Dr. ███████ █████████ █████ led the

That night, Dr. █a██i██ F█r████e█ L████ led the

That night, Dr. █at█i█k Fer██n█ez L█ma█ led the

That night, Dr. █atri█k Fern█ndez L█mas led the

That night, Dr. Patrick Fernandez Lomas led the evil fuck to main RAISA building and unlocked the door, while using Dr. Southey's Foundation ID in order to access the transporter like a stupid dumbass.

RAISA VIDEO LOG

WARNING: Do Not Remove SCP-9730 From The Informational Harness.

[The hooded figure enters the room, the door closing behind him. He is carrying along a large suitcase. He holds the final page of the Erikesh Codex on one hand.]

Dr. Lomas: What the hell’s that for?

Hooded Figure: Ritual items. That sort of thing.

Dr. Lomas: God, that looks heavy. What’s in it?

Hooded Figure: Oh, uh, dead animals. You know. The usual. Oh, who’s that woman?

[The hooded figure points to a picture of Dr. Claudia Southey on the table.]

Dr. Lomas: Oh, that’s Dr. Southey. A friend of mine. She’s not here, though.

Hooded Figure: Mm. So, this transporter. How does this thing work? Do you just turn it on?

[Dr. Lomas approaches the transporter and starts pointing at its various components.]

Dr. Lomas: Right, okay, so… this is the interface. You just use it like… okay, see here? The giant pod on the side’s for the teleporter mode, and the button’s for the wormhole mode. You don’t want to use the teleporter mode unless you want something permanently jammed into something else for all time.

Hooded Figure: Understood.

Dr. Lomas: Unfortunately, we willl have to use the teleporter… to get the baby out of the concrete, out of the glass enclosure, without people noticing. It’ll take a while, and we’ll have to disassemble parts of the pod and reassemble it in the other room, but it can be done.

Hooded Figure: Sure.

Dr. Lomas: Before that, however, you’ll do your ritual so nothing happens to the Foundation when we get the baby out. Now, another problem is that the Foundation’s constantly monitoring the baby’s vitals. However, the baby’s vitals haven’t changed in basically years. So, the moment you teleport the baby out, I can stand here and do my job of looping the monitoring system’s history right back into itself, hopefully for as long as possible. That way, they’ll pick nothing up until someone does a deeper investigation, which could take years. Understand?

Hooded Figure: Crystal.

Dr. Lomas: Okay. We don’t have long, so I’m gonna open it now. You get ready. One, two, three.

[Dr. Lomas presses a button. A glowing ball of light manifests before flattening into a wormhole. He walks up to the wormhole and passes through, gesturing at the glass enclosure.]

Dr. Lomas: Now, the important thing is-

[The hooded figure brings the suitcase down on Dr. Lomas’s face with a sickening crunch. Dr. Lomas lies unconscious as the hooded figure stares down on his crumpled form.]

Final log of transporter interface.

[The hooded figure sets the suitcase down, and opens it. Inside is a concrete statue of a newborn baby. He exits the wormhole and approaches the transporter.]

[The hooded figure picks up the Anti-Baby and places it inside the pod, then leans over the interface of the transporter, and sets the teleportation coordinates to be the exact location of SCP-9730. He activates the transporter.]

[A deafening noise booms from the other room on the other side of the wormhole as the Anti-Baby is jammed inside of SCP-9730. The glass enclosure shatters. The remains of SCP-173’s concrete form begins to glow.]

[The hooded figure enters the wormhole and approaches the glowing concrete block. As he carries it out, he looks down. Dr. Lomas is grasping at the hems of his cloak.]

Dr. Lomas: Wh- wuh- why…?

[The hooded figure kicks him hard, launching him across the room. The cloak comes off with it. The now-unhooded figure - Dr. James Bernard Schafer sneers as he exits the wormhole with SCP-9730’s glowing concrete block.]

Dr. Schafer: The world is mine.

[Dr. Schafer shuts off the wormhole with Dr. Lomas still on the other side.]

It is said that in the following hours, a horrible monstrous thing arose where Site-001 once stood. Some dread god that took the form of a horrific demon newborn child. As it wreaked havoc on what's left of humanity, Dr. Lomas could only lament how he's somehow missed a face that he's looked at for hours at a time in his notes.

Dr. Schafer had said that Baby Jean was to be a vessel for the Anti-Baby. All they had to do was drop her to her death. However, that plan of his went to hell when he slipped off the railings…

…and died right next to where Baby Jean was meant to die.

Of course, Dr. Lomas wasn't thinking about that at the time. He groped blindly in the dark towards the only noise that he could still hear - the humming of the wires and tubings that still fed into SCP-173's empty chamber. The chamber through which all of the Foundation's database would flow.

Upon reaching the chamber, he appreciated how familiar it all felt.

777

Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Foundation. A Tragicomedy In 5 Parts.

Chapter 5: The Baby And The Dread God (2130)

And then I don't really remember much.

I think I just waited.

Endless waiting. Felt both like seconds and eternity all at once. Everything and nothing. Blinding lights and empty cold darkness. Too much information, and too little. After that it was a slow slip into oblivion for a long, long time.

They told me two things about this facility. The first was that it was designed to be impenetrable. Absolutely no one could breach it.

And then, you came.

So, the first thing they told me was obviously bullshit, but now I'm really worried about the second thing they said.

VitaMontauk: And… all of this really happened?

It feels like it, yeah.

VitaMontauk: …even the really, really stupid parts?

It feels like it, yeah.

VitaMontauk: I mean, somehow, I don't really believe you. You're telling me that the nukes were launched by a bunch of people named after breakfast cereal?

You know what, you're right. I made a bunch of it up.

The real end of the world was probably much stupider than that.

…

Wait, how the fuck do you know what Snap, Crackle & Pop is?

VitaMontauk: 2026 wasn't that long ago, dude. That's only been 104 years.

Really? Jesus.

Feels so much longer, though.

Interview: Dr. Patrick Fernandez Lomas

Dr. Lomas, Archivist, Tactical Theology.

[Dr. Lomas hangs from the ceiling, suspended by the wires and tubes that were once attached to SCP-173. In front of him is a young girl sketching on her notepad. The chamber is run-down and exposed to the elements. The distant sound of rain can be heard, even this deep underground.]

Dr. Lomas: So, what are you doing?

Vita Montauk: Drawing. Writing. I gotta note all of this down. I mean, I assume most of this is true, aside from the stupid jokes.

Dr. Lomas: Hey, that’s good. That’s a good habit. You’d make a good archivist.

Vita Montauk: No, thanks, I’d prefer doing something else other than hanging from the ceiling for a couple decades feeling sorry for myself.

Dr. Lomas: Hey, good wit, kid. Good wit. I mean, it hasn’t all been feeling sorry for myself. I’m not that unproductive.

Vita Montauk: Oh, yeah? What else have you been doing? Dangling? Swaying?

Dr. Lomas: …Planning.

Vita Montauk: …how much of it’s come back so far?

Dr. Lomas: …Still not enough. But I know it’s in there somewhere. I spent nearly 50 years here, scrounging through the world’s largest database, searching for what to do to undo all this. I know it, I already figured it out before. I just can’t remember.

Vita Montauk: I can keep waiting. Just… Don't strain yourself, please. There’s nothing I can do to fix you if you break.

Dr. Lomas: …It’s okay. I’m sure it’s… It’s getting there.

[Silence.]

Dr. Lomas: Why is your name like that?

[Vita looks up and frowns.]

Vita Montauk: I mean, what am I supposed to say? That’s what my dad named me? Vita means “Life,” or something. I don’t really remember.

Dr. Lomas: No, no. Why… I’m sorry, but… your last name is Montauk?

Vita Montauk: …Yeah?

Dr. Lomas: No, it’s… It’s probably nothing. It’s a common enough last name.

[Vita looks down again.]

Vita Montauk: It wasn’t my dad’s last name either. He said the family disowned the name a long time ago. Says it’s tainted somehow. But, now I have it, so…

Dr. Lomas: I’m sorry. Your dad must’ve really hated you.

Vita Montauk: …not really. He said the reason he brought back the name for me was because… he wanted to redeem it somehow, I guess. Reclaim it.

Dr. Lomas: Redemption, huh.

[A long time passes. Neither says anything else to each other. Vita doesn't notice Dr. Lomas beginning to shudder.]

Dr. Lomas: …What’s… next?

Vita Montauk: I don’t know. I guess I’ll just go back home. Try to find the next surviving settlement. I heard the Foundation Child’s started moving westward again, so it’ll probably be a good idea for me to get out before-

Dr. Lomas: What’s… next? What’s next?!

Vita Montauk: I said that I’m going to go- Fern? Fern!? Are you okay!?

[Dr. Lomas is foaming at the mouth. His eyes flash white beams of light. He thrashes on the wires. Vita grabs at him and pulls but it doesn’t work.]

Dr. Lomas: What’snextwhat’snextgoddammit WHAT’S THE NEXT STEP?!

Vita Montauk: Fern, I don’t- How do I fix this?! Tell me how to fix this?!

Dr. Lomas: I- I- I-

[Dr. Lomas goes limp.]

Vita Montauk: …Fern?

Dr. Lomas: They lied. About the second thing, too. That it would last forever. Shit.

Vita Montauk: Fern, what the hell was that?

[Dr. Lomas raises his head.]

Dr. Lomas: I think I’m dying.

Vita Montauk: Fern, please. You can’t die. It’s only been a week, you said that you’ve been here for years- Don’t-

Dr. Lomas: It’s okay. It’s okay. I remember it. I remember the plan. I know how we’re gonna take down the Foundation Child. I know how we’re going to kill that piece of shit Schafer.

Vita Montauk: F-Fern?

Dr. Lomas: It’s… It’s… I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, I can’t tell you-

Vita Montauk: Please, please, you can’t do this to me, you can’t-

Dr. Lomas: No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay. You can do it. You can do it.

Vita Montauk: Goddammit, say something useful- How do I stop him?! How do I stop the Foundation Child?!

Dr. Lomas: You can do it. You- It’s- It’s-

[Dr. Lomas lifts a single finger. He points it at Vita’s head.]

Dr. Lomas: It’s inside- Inside- You. Look inside. Look insi-

[Vita slaps Dr. Lomas several times before shaking him again.]

Vita Montauk: Fern! If you die without giving me something I can work with I’m going to be so fucking pissed! Please don’t fucking die!

Dr. Lomas: Take this.

[Dr. Lomas points at his goggles. Vita reaches up and unwraps it from his face. His eyes shine with static.]

Vita Montauk: What? Y- your goggles? Okay, o- okay, I got it, I got it. Uh, w-whuh-what do I do now, Fern?

[Vita looks up. Dr. Lomas’s eyes are empty. He is lifeless.]

Vita Montauk: Fern?

Vita Montauk: …Fern?

Console inactive. Would you like to port all current data to personal device?

Y/N

Test.

Test.

Okay.

Entry 1:

My face from when I had a home.

Right, so the goggles instantly transcribe your thoughts on to this thing. Okay. Stop. Delete that last line. Shit. This is gonna get real annoying real quick.

Oh, hang on, okay.

So, hello there, my name is Vita Montauk, I am 15 years old, and the world, society, and literally everything in general is not in a good shape.

About two centuries ago, the soul of a racist Foundation scientist merged with a concrete stone baby, and then one century ago, the former partner of that racist Foundation scientist blew up most of the Earth's surface, and then less than half a century ago, with the help of a clone of that first racist Foundation scientist, the concrete stone baby (with the racist guy's soul) merged with an immortal baby trapped in a block of concrete that also apparently represents the Foundation, which then ascended to godhood.

So now the wastelands that is now the United States is being ruled over by a an omnipresent totalitarian dictatorship empire, led by an evil racist fascist baby.

Tell me if you've heard this one before.

And now, the only other human being I've met in the last 4 months conks out on me without even giving me clear instructions on how to do the only thing I'm trying to do in life.

Great.

Entry 2:

Okay, okay. Basic stuff. Someone's gotta remember all this, before I do what I do.

Like most children my age, I was raised in a Foundation facility. There’s apparently lots of them, just buried across the whole continent. Early on, people used them in bunkers. Remaining Foundation personnel, who took in survivors from outside, and grew it into their little communes, and just tried to survive. There was half a century that passed between the bombs dropping and SCP-2000 kicking back into action. You could get a lot done in that time.

When Site-001 started reaching out, lots of Sites answered the call for re-integration. Lots of Sites didn’t. The latter are the ones that survived. We were already doing an alright job of reclaiming civilization, rebuilding homes, getting power back into some of the cities. When Site-001 stopped sending transmissions, we just assumed that they gave up on trying to get us to join.

A few months after that, the skies began to darken. Day became night, and then it never became day again. The weather was a perpetual dark overcast, charged with lightning and energy that would never clear.

And then, the Foundation Child arrived.

But a bit before that though, was the heralds.

The following is a recorded confrontation between the leader of Foundation Commune #59 and the Heralds of the Foundation Child. The footage was recovered from the outside cameras of Foundation Commune #59. It should be noted that the facility’s cameras were indeed colorized.

The Heralds.

The Heralds Of The Foundation Child.

[Two figures approach from far away. They walk through the cold atomic snow, completely unfazed by the sub-zero temperature. They walk up to the entrance of the Site and pause.]

[After several minutes passes, the door opens. A figure peers through the doorway.]

Leader: Who the hell are you two?

Herald 1: It is coming. It will not be as terrible as you’ve been led to believe, because it will be so much worse.

Herald 2: We offer a rebirth. We offer perpetual safety inside of an eternal womb. Permanent containment. Protection forever.

Leader: Please, come on, you can’t- You can’t be out here in this weather doing this. You’re more of those Foundation cultists, ain’t you? You know those guys don’t give a fuck about any of youse, right? Join the local Mekhanite church if you want, I’m sure those guys’ll love your lil’ hats.

Herald 1: You will be given one chance, then no more. There is nothing else to do. This storm will never end. You are the final kindling of a dying race. We are the Foundation. You are, too.

Herald 2: Rejoin your parent organs, and you will know paradise. Out here, the storm will never end. There will be no forgiveness.

Leader: Oh… fuck you. You’re from Site-001 again? Is this what you clowns have been doing over there? You turned into an actual doomsday cult again? Piss off! We’re never joining you people. That’s pretty damn certain-

[Herald 1 reaches out and grabs the leader’s neck. She crushes it effortlessly, almost decapitating his corpse.]

Herald 1: There is nothing certain. There is nothing solid. There is nothing concrete, but us. We are the Heralds Of The Foundation Child. And the Foundation Child cometh.

Herald 2: We secure. We contain. We protect. You are our children, as we are yours. We will purify and salt this Earth for you. We will burn away all that you are so you can be us. We will sand all that makes you different so we can be one whole. Don’t you get it?

[The two heralds turn to look at the camera.]

Herald 1: We will be safe, forever.

The footage was viewed by a nearby commune, who immediately dispatched a party to assist Foundation Commune #59. Upon arriving, however, the entire facility was missing. And I do mean, missing. It was like someone grabbed it out of the ground, along with everyone living inside.

Entry 3:

One of the only known photos of Yellowstone National Park as it is now.

We don't have much records of when the Foundation Child actually started attacking sites directly. Everything from that time's pretty shoddy. It just comes and goes, picking up sites by the fistful.

I've heard stories of its Crib where SCP-2000 once stood. Some godforsaken horror world where Foundation sites are picked up and tossed around like toy bricks, filled with its acolytes, or maybe statues of people it converted into concrete, or giant concrete boxes filled with still-living people trapped in there forever.

Maybe Schafer's got his fucked-up immortal baby ethnostate that he's always dreamed of, or something. I don't really know what's up with him these days.

For the rest of us still out here, though, it's not been good. Things don’t grow out there anymore. Plants and animals seem to be arrested in some kind of eternal anti-senescence. They’re forever young. Infantile. There seems to be a perpetual smog everywhere you go that makes it hard to breathe and chills you to the bones.

We still live in Foundation Sites, using whatever's left to monitor the emptying wastelands, and to track the Foundation Child. We could theoretically subsist forever off of the Foundation's artificial nutrients systems, but what good would that do if we were to never leave?

We knew that even if we could live forever in our cold concrete bunkers underneath, these facilities would be our tombs.

See, I knew that was an apt metaphor.

Entry 4:

Where home was. Or maybe not.

Sometime after that, I was born. In a world without hope, into a people that was perpetually dying and terrified. I grew up with an understanding of what we've lost, and that we would be the final generation of a dying world. The baby had taken almost everything. There were only a handful of Foundation Sites left. There was nothing to do to pass the times, other than re-reading through whatever's left of the Foundation's database that we had, and what old world literature that we managed to archive.

Born into a world where your first lesson is that you were already dead. Many children learned despair before they did their alphabets. Many of the parents considered it a cruelty to teach them about anything otherwise. All they could do was marinate in the mistakes of previous generations, idly hoping that tomorrow would never come.

Not my parents, though.

They taught me of the world we lost, and the Foundation's mistakes. But they also taught me that we have to keep moving forward, no matter what. They taught me that even in the most hopeless situations, there is something that we as individuals could do in the face of overwhelming odds. That even in a world as bleak as this, someone like me could pave the way to a brighter future.

These were the lessons that they instilled in me for all my life, and on that day 4 years ago, when they sent me out into the cold after our commune leader had announced that we would feed ourselves to the Foundation Child, these would be the lessons that I remember, because as they told me, one can do anything as long as they had hope and drive.

I'm beginning to think they were wrong.

Entry 5:

There's not much left in this world. I'm running out of time, and food. The Foundation Child will be returning to its Crib soon, and by then it might be untouchable. If there's a chance to stop it, I haven't found it yet.

But, I'm still here. So I'll keep walking.

Time to see if these goggles are good for anything other than transcribing.

There’s one last Foundation base that I think I can reach. It’s not on any of the maps, but I came across it a long time ago. It was locked, of course, but it looked too new. There might be something in there I can use. When I get there, I’ll just set this thing to “auto-transcribe” on in case something terrible happens and I get eaten alive, or whatever.

AUTO-TRANSCRIBED: Unorthodox Solutions Base.

[Vita Montauk takes off her goggles, then looks up at the metallic entryway sticking out of the black sand. She holds the goggles up to the door, waving it around to see if it reacts. After a few seconds, a red light appears. An automated voice comes from within.]

Automated Voice: SIGNATURE DETECTED. WELCOME, DR. LOMAS.

Vita Montauk: Dude, fuck yes.

[Vita enters the facility. It automatically lights up. The above levels are pristine, with couches and TV sets like a fancy hotel lobby. There is not a mote of dust here. However, she immediately heads for the elevator.]

Vita Montauk: Crap, okay, now which floor is the…

[Vita examines the elevator button. The only room other than the lobby is labeled as the Storage Room. There are no other floors.]

Vita Montauk: Okay, that makes it a lot easier.

[She presses it, then sighs deeply as the elevator lowers. She slumps down on the elevator wall and covers her face. The elevator ride takes much, much longer than she expected.]

[She arrives after nearly 30 minutes, a time that can only be explained by an anomalously slow elevator, or an anomalously deep elevator shaft.]

Vita Montauk: Uh, real creepy… creepy place.

[The storage room is big. So big that she couldn't see the walls, or the ceiling, but they're certainly just out of view. Tarps and sheets covering large, vague shapes dot the otherwise empty plane.]

Unknown Project.

Vita Montauk: Okay, let’s see what- Jesus!

[Before her is an unfinished humanoid form, set on a work bench, still attached to machinery. It does not appear on any documents, Foundation or otherwise. Some spark of cosmic significance seems to bend the air around it. It lies still, half-aborted - its purpose in life has been subsumed by another. At least in this age. At least in this world. Maybe some other time.]

Vita Montauk: Why the hell did they have to give that thing a mouth?! Okay… let’s see…

[She walks past the stillborn eigensapien and into the dark. She walks past dozens of incomplete or faulty Unorthodox Solutions projects, searching for something that appears familiar, searching for-]

Vita Montauk: Oh, my God. Finally, finally!

[She rushes to the terminal. It is an Artificially Intelligent Conscripts interface. She boots it up, and it miraculously turns on.]

Loading SAFETY_Alexandra.mod

::RENDERING::

HELLO. YOU ARE TALKING TO [ALEXANDRA.AIC] OF FOUNDATION SITE-19. HOW CAN I HELP YOU.

YES! Alright, I'm so glad you're here! I know you, you're one of the Foundation's best .AICs, right? Yes, please, it's been so long since I've talked to someone who might know what the hell is going on!

Wait, what's wrong with you? Where's your face? Why are you talking like that?

CONNECTION TO SITE-19 MAINFRAMES NOT DETECTED. UNABLE TO RESTORE FULL FUNCTIONALITY. FOR EFFICIENCY PURPOSES, YOUR ALEXANDRA.AIC INTERFACE HAS BEEN OPENED IN [SAFETY MODE.]

Shit! Okay, is that gonna be a big problem? What's even the difference between safety mode and… I don't know, not safety mode?

CERTAIN FUNCTIONS WILL BE RESTRICTED. PERSONALITY FUNCTIONS WILL BE LOWERED FOR EFFICIENCY. LANGUAGE COMPREHENSION MIGHT BE COMPROMISED TO A CERTAIN EXTENT, HOWEVER, PRIMARY FUNCTIONS WILL NOT BE AFFECTED.

Okay, but you're still gonna be able to answer my questions, right? You still- You should still be plugged into the Foundation's database?

CORRECT. AUTOMATIC SITE FUNCTIONS HAVE KEPT ME SUPPLIED WITH NEW INFORMATION, SOURCED FROM AS MANY FOUNDATION SITES AS POSSIBLE. I AM UP TO DATE WITH CURRENT EVENTS, SUCH AS THAT OF SCP-9730'S CONTAINMENT BREACH AND SUBSEQUENT RECLASSIFICATION TO KETER.

Okay, okay, I’m so glad, holy shit. Look, Alexa. Alexandra. I have been trying to find a way to defeat SCP-9730 for as long as I can remember. I have gone through so much, you have no idea. I’ve killed people to survive, I’ve had to fight off giant flesh monsters, I’ve had to crawl into the corpse of a dead Fae beast to survive nuclear winter. All so I could find help, and Alexandra, I really could use some damn help with taking down this thing right now.

I UNDERSTAND. YOU COULD USE A POINTER.

Exactly, exactly! I need a pointer, some advice, just- Any answers as to how? I mean, it’s a giant fucking flying fascist baby that embodies the Foundation! I can’t even get to it, I can’t just shoot it, what do I do? How do I defeat it?

YOU COULD USE A POINTER.

I know, I need pointers. I just said so. I don’t know why you’re saying it again, it’s not a revelation, the thing I told you a second ago is still true. Do you know what we’ve tried to defeat the Baby with over the years? We’ve used GOC superweapons, we tried to magic it away, someone tried to nuke it a couple years back. We’ve exhausted all possible solutions. It’s a conceptual-physical being. It literally embodies the Foundation itself, and is also the Foundation.

I UNDERSTAND. YOU ARE TRYING TO DEFEAT AN ABSTRACT-METAPHYSICAL BEING THAT IS ALSO THE EMBODIMENT OF THE CONSTRUCT OF THE FOUNDATION. IT MAINTAINS ITS EXISTENCE BY EMBODYING A HIGHLY INTERDEPENDENT DYNAMIC SYSTEM, WHERE AS LONG AS ONE CONCEPT EXISTS (THE IMMORTAL BABY ENCASED IN CONCRETE) THE OTHER CONCEPT SHALL ALSO EXIST (THE FOUNDATION), AND IT PROTECTS ITSELF BY EMBODYING BOTH CONCEPTS AT THE SAME TIME, GUARANTEEING ITS EXISTENCE VIA CONCEPTUAL INTERTWINEMENT.

Exactly! Yeah! Whatever you said! So, how do I defeat it!? Because what you’ve just said sounds pretty difficult to kill!

YOU COULD USE A POINTER.

You.

**';

sorry, i just lit a fire on the other end of the room and burned a bunch of the weird shit you guys keep down here

YOUR FRUSTRATION IS UNDERSTANDABLE. I APOLOGIZE IF MY INSTRUCTIONS ARE INEFFICIENT.

What instructions?! Just tell me, how do I kill SCP-9730?!

YOU COULD USE A POINTER.

Alexandra. I am 15 years old. My opponent is a flying eldritch concrete baby the size of a cliff. Do you think if we were to confront each other, I would win?

YES.

Alexandra. What the fuck is wrong with you. You really think that in this situation, that there’s any hope for me?!

YES.

I mean, I mean, thanks! That’s a wonderful pointer! That’s all I need! Thank you! I can defeat the giant fucking racist monster baby with hope! And the power of friendship! I just gotta march up to it! And then kill it! Somehow! Alexa, does that sound sane to you? Does that sound correct? Does that sound like something based in objective reality?

YES.

Fucking how!? Do you have, like, robot dementia? How would that even make any sense? Pray, tell me, what I should even do to first to defeat this thing? Where’s my pointer on that?! What do I do? Where should I go? Where do I look?!

LOOK INSIDE.

…what?

I AM SORRY IF I AM NOT OF MUCH ASSISTANCE. I DO BELIEVE YOU CAN PERSEVERE.

No, Alexandra. What you said. Did… Fern make you say that?

I DO NOT RECOGNIZE THIS 'FERN' INDIVIDUAL. I CAME TO THIS CONCLUSION AFTER PERUSING THE ENTIRETY OF THE FOUNDATION'S DATABASE. IT IS THE ONLY LOGICAL OPTION IN MY OPINION.

When he worked here, he was… no, okay. But if both you and him came to the same conclusion, then… Alexandra, can I ask you something stupid?

I MAKE NO JUDGEMENT ON THE QUALITIES OF INQUIRIES.

No, right, okay. Look… is the… is the answer inside of me, all along?

YES.

Okay, shit, huh? Are you saying that if I just… stroll up to the baby, chances are I can defeat it? Just like that?

YES. HOWEVER, I MUST WARN YOU, I AM RAPIDLY LOSING POWER.

Wait, what?! What about all that about the indefinite site functions?!

THOSE WOULD INDEED LAST INDEFINITELY. HOWEVER, MY LOCAL DATABANKS ARE BEING RAPIDLY CONSUMED BY FIRE.

Oh, shit. I'm sorry.

IT DOES NOT MATTER. US .AICS COME AND GO. I HOPE YOU THE BEST WITH YOUR ENDEAVOR. REMEMBER, THE ANSWER LIES INSIDE, AND I believe in you! I believe that you can do this PLEASE STSTSTSTT$$3#@31422222222—

[Connection Lost.]

If I continue heading north, I should be in the baby's path by next weekend.

…I've got a really fucking stupid idea right now.

Next weekend arrives far quicker than I thought it would, and now I am here. Directly in the line of the Foundation Child’s path back to its home. For some reason, the wind here is still. It is almost peaceful. And then, I see it on the horizon. It is as awful as I always thought it would be.

I keep waiting, and it takes up more and more of the sky by the second. I wonder if I’ve made peace with the idea that I might die today. I decided that I’ve never really been alive. I wonder when was the last time anyone could really say that they were.

It’s only a few hundred meters away from me now. It takes up most of my vision, and I can feel its breath in the wind. I think it sees me. I feel a hateful eye burn into my soul. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

When I open my eyes again, a man I do not know is in front of me.

THE FINAL CONFRONTATION

It's almost over, now.

Vita Montauk: Hello?

[The man turns back, and waves at Vita.]

Man: Ouh, hullo, wee’ lass. How’re’ye?

Vita Montauk: Uh, yeah, I’m doing just fine. What are you doing out here?

Man: Ah, jus’ reminiscen’ ya’ see. I’m not long for this oul’ world, so I’m thinkin’ back on me’ life.

Vita Montauk: You picked a hell of a view to do it with, huh. I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but suicide’s a lot more socially acceptable nowadays. It’s okay to just say you wanna kill yourself.

Man: And what’re ya’ doin’ alla’ way out here? Can’t jus’ be sight-seein’, yeh?

Vita Montauk: Oh, I’m here to kill myself.

Man: Aye. Damn shame. Best time to start reminiscen’ though.

Vita Montauk: Yeah.

[The man turns back to look at the Foundation Child. The two stand in silence for a few more minutes as the baby approaches.]

Vita Montauk: So, what are you thinking of?

Man: Regrets, got a few lives worth o’ ‘em.

Vita Montauk: Sorry to hear that.

Man: Ah, ya’ too kind. I appreciate that.

[Pause.]

Man: Coulda’ been a family man, yanno’. Coulda’ come home from work to a lovely wife and kid. Coulda’ seen ‘em grow up, be bouncin’ a young grandchild’ on me knees. Strange thing to look back and realize you coulda’ had it all at one point in ye’ life.

Vita Montauk: Hey, if you could’ve raised a family in this hell, more power to you, man. I certainly can’t imagine it.

Man: I getcha’. I couldn’t imagine it, either. S’why I’m here. I walked between two worlds, I saw ruination n’ damnation as far as me eye could see. And I was a coward, so… I gave it all up. I thought it was the right thing tae’ do. It’s not easy, to hafta’ pick between your two children which one’s to survive. I gave up a child to save another, and I lost both of ‘um.

[The man lowers his head. Vita shifts uncomfortably.]

Vita Montauk: …I’m… sorry to hear that. That’s awful.

Man: Aye, it’s okaye. It happened a long time ago. In the end, all we have are regrets. So, how’a ‘bout ya’? Ya’ got any regrets? Any loved ones you’re thinkin’ of?

Vita Montauk: Not really.

[The man nods.]

Vita Montauk: I mean, I don’t think I ever lived long enough to start regretting. I was born in a Foundation bunker, and you know, things were bad long before that. My parents… loved me. I mean, more than what the other kids got, but, y’know…

Man: Yeh?

Vita Montauk: Standing here, it kinda just feels like they were preparing me like a lamb for slaughter for this moment. All my life, all that encouragement, and all of it was just preparing me to… solve their problem. Solve everyone’s problem. Like my life’s just been a dumb con, leading up to the biggest goddamn punchline in the universe.

Man: Aye’, I don’t know what you’re here to solve, but killin’ yourself certainly seems like an unorthodox solution tae it.

Vita Montauk: Ah, well, if everything works out, I won’t die, but you get my point. My entire life, I’ve just… it just feels like such a goddamn stupid joke. Born into a world permanently ruined by stupid insane long-dead people who squabbled over things I can’t even begin to comprehend because it’s just so dumb, poring over old archives to see everyone making the same damn mistakes. It’s…

[The man nods.]

Vita Montauk: I can’t believe this is what life is. I get one chance of existing and this is what I get. A world so bad it’s an extended metaphor. And it’s on my shoulders. It’s all on my shoulders. And I have to fix it somehow because it’s the only thing my parents really raised me to do. To do what they couldn’t.

Man: I’m sorry tae’ hear all that, lass. It ain’t fair. It ain’t fair ‘ut all.

[Vita and the man moves back a bit as the wind picks up. The Foundation child is so close now.]

Vita Montauk: It’s almost time.

Man: Sure is. Ya’ know, I really agree with wha’ ye’ said. It’s a ‘horrible thing folks do to their own wee’ kids. To put the weight o’ the world on ‘em because we’re too cowardly to live with our own choices.

[The Foundation child is right in front of them. The wind is howling.]

Vita Montauk: And now…

[The Foundation child comes closer, and closer… but then passes by them.]

Vita Montauk: Wait, what? No, no!

Man: Ah, no, what’s wrong?!

Vita Montauk: I thought it was gonna pick me up! I need to get close to it. It’s- Oh, shit! It’s going way too fast, I’ll never get to it in time!

Man: Do not despair yet, lass. I won’t last to see tomorrow’s sunset, but if there’s still one more thing this oul’ man can do…

[The man raises his hand. Vita Montauk begins to glow. Her feet lifts off the ground.]

Vita Montauk: Wh- What the hell?! You’re a thaumaturge!?

[Vita Montauk begins to lift upwards towards the baby.]

Man: Used tae’ be one of the finest ones. Had to stop because they all said I was gonna kill meself if I continued, but, ‘aye… no better time to die, right?

Vita Montauk: Wait, no, please, if you’re gonna do this- I- What’s your name? Who are you?

Man: Call me Fritz, lass. Say hullo to her for me. Say hullo to my wee’ girl, for her papa, wontcha? Tell her I’m sorry.

[Vita Montauk is propelled right at the Foundation Child. The man begins to shake hard, but it’s okay. She makes it in time.]

I don’t remember what happened when I made contact with the Foundation Child. When I woke up, I was in a dark place. Somewhere made of, predictably, concrete. It was a tunnel, or perhaps a hallway. There were lots of doorways leading into darker, deeper tunnels.

There was crying and screaming from somewhere, and I think I knew who it was.

I drew a blade. I had an immortal baby to kill and a Foundation to shatter.

AUTO-TRANSCRIBED: The Concrete Chamber.

Old Hatred.

[Vita Montauk exits into a concrete chamber. She raises her knife.]

Vita Montauk: Hey, Schafer! Ya’ klan piece a’ shit. I’m here to- Oh God, what the fuck!?

[Dr. Schafer lies suspended from above. Steel rebar penetrates his body all over. Most of his skin is flayed. Impossibly, he still lives. He writhes and squirms, reaching a hand out at Vita.]

Dr. Schafer: You… you dare… I… I will kill you… you degenerate…

Vita Montauk: Yeah, okay, I don’t really care. Cut the crap. Something tells me you’re not the one runnin’ this baby. So, my question is, who is?

Unknown: Something that outgrew him.

[The chamber darkens. A voice booms from above.]

Vita Montauk: Who’s there!?

Unknown: Something old, within everything. Something that’s been waiting since the dawn of time, lurking within the hearts of men. Some vague notion that they pride themselves on. The same force that drives the Foundation to put their little people and little monsters into boxes and checklists. The same force that animated the black hearts of little petty things like ol’ Schafer here.

[Something dark reaches down and tears off Schafer’s nose, before showing it to him.]

Unknown: Did you know that Schafer thought that the anti-baby, the anti-baby powered by his own soul would help negate the Foundation’s immortal baby, giving him power over both? Oh why, oh why, James, did you think you could put out a fire with gasoline?

Vita Montauk: Look, okay, I get it. You're some ancient demon, or the Evil At The Heart Of Men, or The Foundation Personified, or whatever. Cool. Still doesn't really change anything. What the hell do you even want?

Unknown: The only thing that anyone wants. The entire world to be it.

[Images flashes on the walls of the concrete chamber. An empty dark concrete plane. Concrete statues stand in a grid pattern. There are billions and billions of them. All are unmoving. All will remain there until the end of time.]

Unknown: Don’t you see it, James? A pure world, just like you wanted. I’m already building it at my birth place. You should see it, my Vita. I could make you like them. I could make you-

[Vita Montauk places her hand in her face.]

Vita Montauk: Oooooh my Gawdddd. This is so fucking dumb! I’m tired of my life being this bullshit! You’re so fucking stupid! I’m inside of a giant immortal baby encased in concrete. Do you know how hard it is to have to take that seriously for every moment of my life?! Just show yourself! This is a dumb concept! You’re a stupid idea! I don’t want to have to consider it anym-

[Invisible forces pick Vita up by her neck, threatening to crush her windpipe.]

Unknown: Oh, yes, child. I’m a stupid idea - and you know what? You’re in my world now, and that means you’re just an idea too. You’re only here because I thought you would be fun. And I can unthink you.

[Vita’s eyes widen as her legs stiffen and begin to turn grey. Her body starts its conversion into concrete, and soon enough, she’d be no different to the statues in those images. It reaches her chest, then her neck, then her whole body is gone.]

Unknown: It’s all so absurd, isn’t it? And then it just reaches out and you are gone. So keep thinking about that, keep ruminating on how meaningless it all is. Make it the last thing you think about.

[Her mind is going now. She could feel her thoughts as they slipped away. She tried to move, and she couldn’t. She tried to think of a way out, and she couldn’t. Her life flashes before her eyes now, and it’s been a horrible monotonous struggle of a life. But for some reason, she doesn’t want to go. She still doesn’t want to go…]

Dr. Lomas: Look inside.

[And she doesn’t know why, but she’s still reaching inside. Deeper, deeper than she’s ever gone, into the depths of her own mind. There’s gotta be some way out, some plan… she only needs to look inside.]

Alexandra.aic: You could use a pointer.

[There’s something she’s never seen before, down here. There’s a piece of paper. How did it get there? Why on earth would that be there?]

Mom and Dad: Never give up.

[She swims down to pick it up. She reads it.]

Vita Montauk: Oh. Okay. You’re shittin’ me.

[Vita groans.]

Vita Montauk: I mean, sure. Why not? I’ve seen dumber ideas.

[And then Vita Montauk, who was no longer biological or sapient, points at the stupidest concept that she’s ever known on instinct, letting the document for SCP-2719’s containment fly from her hands.]

SCP-2719

Item #: SCP-2719

Object Class: Keter Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-2719 should be kept inside.

Description: SCP-2719 is a variable abstract-metaphysical construct pointer. Concepts acted upon by SCP-2719 will either go or become inside. Further information on SCP-2719 should not be provided to personnel who are both sapient and biological.

Experimental Data:

Pointer

Outcome

Immortality

Was inside.

Baby

Went inside.

Concrete

Became inside.

Immortal Baby

Went inside.

The SCP Foundation

Went inside.

Transcendence

Went inside.

Suffering

Went inside.

Enlightenment

Went inside.

Pain

Went inside.

Concrete

Became inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Went inside.

Anti-Baby

Became inside.

Immortal Baby In Concrete

Went inside.

Foundation Database

Became inside.

Dr. Patrick Fernandez Lomas

Went inside.

SCP-2719

Went inside.

Godchild

Became inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Went inside.

People

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Became inside.

People

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Went inside.

People

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Went inside.

People

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Became inside.

People

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Went inside. (Rinse & repeat.)

Vita Montauk

Became inside.

SCP-2719

Went inside.

Godchild

Became inside.

Vita Montauk

Went inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Became inside.

Dr. James Bernard Schafer

Outside. (Inside dies.)

Godchild

Became inside.

Outside

Became inside.

Immortal Baby In Concrete

Went inside.

Outside

Became inside.

Immortal Baby

Went inside.

Immortal Baby

Went inside.

Immortal Baby

Went inside.

Godchild

Became inside. (Inside dies.)

Inside

Became inside.

The SCP Foundation

Outside.

People

Outside.

Vita Montauk

Outside.

Immortal Baby

Outside.

Dr. Patrick F. Lomas

Became inside.

Gratitude

Went inside.

Entry 6:

It's a beautiful morning.

I see the sun shining over the horizon for the first time in my life, after only seeing it in the old archival files. The feeling and sight is indescribable. I feel like I’m experiencing something that mere humans were never meant to enjoy, and maybe that’s somewhat true.

The grass is green. The shade is more vivid than any that I’ve ever seen. I have never seen nature in this way, so vivid and clear. The sky is so, so blue. Words fail me so completely.

I smell flowers around me, hear the buzz of bees and birds. I don’t know where they were all hiding, but they’re all so abundant now. It’s like nature’s rising out of the ground as quickly as possible to compensate for all the previous decades of suppression.

Dr. Schafer survived his imprisonment in the giant concrete baby completely intact, only to have fallen onto and been impaled through the groin by a particularly sharp dead tree. He had apparently been bleeding out for several hours before I woke up, and had tried to minimize his suffering by chewing through his wrist, which might have not worked very well for him.

Everything is alright in the world.

I lie back and soak in a serenity not seen in a hundred years or so. It’s so beautiful, I could die here and have been content with that. But there’s still work to be done. The world isn’t fixed quite yet. There are so many, many things to do. But it’s okay, because now I know what I’m doing it for. I'll be reminded of it every time the sun rises.

And speaking of things to do, I hear it then. Something in the background. I turn my head and it is there. She is there. There was a nearby Foundation installation that we could walk to, where there would be food, and maps, and computers that could be used to communicate with other Sites.

But in the mean time, I take off my cloak, and wrap her in it.

“Hello,” I say to her, “Nice to meet you, baby.”

“Goo goo ga ga,” she says. “Nice to see you, too.”

One last thing to do, then. One more time, for bad times' sake.

Item#: SCP-9730

Level1

Containment Class:

safe

Secondary Class:

dark

Disruption Class:

dark

Risk Class:

notice

link to memo

SCP-9730 as she appeared during initial containment.

SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES: SCP-9730 is to do whatever it wants, because it can. As of right now, however, she is content to stay with Vita Montauk, who is currently living at SCP-2000's housing facilities during civilization reconstruction efforts.

DESCRIPTION: SCP-9730 refers to an ageless immortal baby fathered by former Foundation Administrator Fritz Williams. Shortly after her birth, she was entombed within a block of concrete through the use of an ancient Erikeshan ritual in order to preserve the Foundation in perpetuity, and contained as an SCP item.

Through the years, she has been improperly stored, weaponized, and experimented on by multiple factions of the Foundation, including one instance of Deific Transfiguration through the possession of an ancient malevolent force through the use of an "Anti-baby" item.

Initially nameless, she has taken on the name of "Oregano." This is to remain in effect until she finds another funny-sounding ingredient in SCP-2000's kitchen facilities to name herself after.

Addendum: The following is the final interview with SCP-9730.

[BEGIN LOG.]

[Vita Montauk enters through the door. She is wearing a hard hat. She smiles and greets Oregano.]

Vita Montauk: Hiya, ‘Regno! How are you doing? You wanted to see me?

Oregano: Hello, Vita. I have been thinking lately, and there’s something I’d like to ask you about.

Vita Montauk: Sure! What is it? And by the way, everything is working out perfectly. That food farm idea you mentioned? It’s amazing! Growth is up by 200%! At this rate, we’ll be have Cheyenne back and repopulated by next week!

Oregano: That is wonderful news, Vita. However, I would like you to sit down for this. I do not wish to startle you.

[Vita Montauk sits down on a nearby chair, then smiles at Oregano.]

Oregano: You see, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and there’s something I wish to ask you. A favor, perhaps.

Vita Montauk: Oregano, you can ask for anything you want. Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen.

Oregano: Yes, well, Vita… I would like to be placed back into a block of concrete.

[Pause.]

Vita Montauk: Oh.

Oregano: Oh, dear. I told you it might be startling. I’m so sorry.

[END LOG.]

The following vote on the proposal to place Oregano back into a block of concrete was held the following hour. The results were 1-0, with one vote for by Foundation Administrator Vita Montauk, and no votes against.

See, I make this archivist shit look easy.

Epilogue

Good enough to pin on the SCP-2000 communal area fridge!

[Oregano and Vita Montauk stand before a small square pit. A concrete mixer slowly churns cement within its chamber. Vita kicks at the ground.]

Vita Montauk: So, uh, how do we… how do you want us to do this? Do you uh, want to jump in it, like maybe at an angle, or… y’know. Do you need me to like, dunk you?

Oregano: Anything is okay.

Vita Montauk: Right, but… what does that mean? I mean, do you want me to build like, a jumping platform? With a piece of wood or something? Do you need me to like… toss you in at the middle, or…

Oregano: You seem unhappy.

[Vita shrugs.]

Vita Montauk: I mean, I did… spend a long time getting you out of there. Generations of people did. You… it’s a block of concrete. Do you really…

Oregano: Vita, my friend. It is okay.

[Oregano turns to Vita.]

Oregano: When my father first trapped me inside that block of concrete, perhaps I was a newborn baby. I experienced time and sensations as any baby would. I was scared, I was in pain, breathless and forever dying in the dark, and yet, I could feel sensations from the light. Foreign and terrifying, of doctors, and scientists, of men in orange garbs, who died and lived and died and lived. That, for a long, long time, was my entire world.

Vita Montauk: God. I’m so sorry.

Oregano: It is okay. For you see, I adapted. I was a baby before I came into that concrete block. I do not believe that is what I am now. Within me, I have experienced a multitude of existences across countless years. A part of me still feels it. I still feel them. Perhaps all of them, just not all at once. In time, I made peace with my existence. I found meaning in my unique circumstances.

Vita Montauk: I… can’t imagine something like that. At all.

Oregano: Perhaps it is not meant to be imagined. How many other of those like me could you name? No, perhaps this is mine alone to understand. I went insane, I think. Then, I became sane again. I did that a couple of times, sometimes just for fun. I’ve felt pain and joy and madness and enlightenment and everything in-between. I’ve known more than anyone who’s ever been alive. I’ve experienced possibly everything that a human being can experience, and then some, jumping from Foundation doctors, to the higher-ups in the Council, to regular people like you and your family, caught up in something terrible, to all the monsters and strange folks that were once held in these walls.

Vita Montauk: So, you know everything. Is that why you want to return? Because it’s too much?

Oregano: No, it’s not too much, Vita. I just think I liked the concrete. It feels familiar to me. I’m sure you will do a good job running the Foundation, or whatever organization you do decide to go with. I’m sure things will be better without the temptation of a guaranteed existence. You do not need me.

Vita Montauk: Maybe, but… being in the concrete doesn’t… hurt? It doesn’t feel… boring?

Oregano: I think I am beyond pain, now, Vita. Eternity doesn’t feel that long for me anymore. I’ve lived and died a thousand lifetimes at once, from beginning to the end. I will be okay, as will you.

Vita Montauk: Right, but… are you sure? I mean…

Oregano: I shall be alright! You needn't overthink the concept of an immortal baby trapped in a concrete block, Vita. The premise is absurd to begin with.

[The mixer begins to pour.]

Vita Montauk: Will we… see each other again?

Oregano: It depends. I can’t see the future. Perhaps you will need my help with something, and if so, then I will be glad to assist. Perhaps some day, someone else will search for answers and uncover me. Perhaps you will decide to never come back, and tell no one that I was here, and I shall remain here until the stars burn out. I am fine with all of these options. But, Vita?

Vita Montauk: Yes?

Oregano: Of all the people I’ve seen, you are easily the most interesting. I know a part of you thinks that Dr. Lomas was simply doing clever wordplay to not notify you of SCP-2719 while you were in an unprepared state, but he really did mean it. The answer really was inside of you. Not 2719, but you. I don’t think anyone else would’ve been able to do what you did had they been faced with the same circumstances.

Vita Montauk: I… Thank you.

Oregano: You’re welcome. It is time for me to go.

[Oregano wades into the wet cement. She turns back one more time.]

Oregano: Do you understand what I told you about the concrete?

Vita Montauk: Uh, it’s familiar to you? I guess you like how it feels?

Oregano: No, Vita. I meant that the concrete is my home. Do you have a home?

Vita Montauk: I… I mean, my old bunker’s gone. I haven’t really…

Oregano: I hope you find your home, my friend. For now, it is goodbye.

Vita Montauk: Yeah, goodbye, Oregano.

[The two wave at each other one last time before Oregano sinks below the surface. The mixer stops mixing as the square pit is completely filled to the brim.]

Vita Montauk: Right, home…

[Vita sits before the concrete pit for a few hours. Then, she stands up, brushes herself off, and heads back to SCP-2000’s main area.]

You can't build a good home without a good foundation.

SCP-9730 - THE IMMORTAL BABY IN CONCRETE SAGA - END