Prometheans - SCP Foundation

Senior Researcher L. Byron(aka "Kraito")

SCP Researcher and Telepathy Specialist.

Security Class: 3

Duties: Research of Telepathic anomalies, Objects recovered in the field, SCP containment doctrine development.

Current assignment: Site-19, Prometheus project.

Lee "Kraito" Byron was not having a very good day. Not that he usually had good days, but fate had been particularly cruel to him on this one. He'd missed the tram coming into Site-19, and been forced to wait 2 hours for the next one to come in. At least now, alone in his office, he might have some peace and quiet.

"Hey, Kraito, you busy?"

Cursing his own hopes, he turned to see a familiar young woman standing at the door. Dressed in standard task force attire, and standing at a robust 6', she struck an intimidating figure. Kraito rolled his eyes, then grumbled a reply.

"A bit. Did you need something, or did you come just to waste my time?"

Lt. Masipag walked into this office, taking time to note the mountains of papers and geegaws littering the ground.

"Actually, Fritz sent me here to pick up some papers you had, for the recon."

Kraito snorted. "You agents are always getting all the interesting stuff. I get to sit in an office with papers and broken A/C. Here are your stinkin' papers." He thrust a handful of crumpled documents to Masipag.

Masipag took them, with eyebrows locked in an amused stance. "Someone's in a rare mood this morning. Something on your mind?"

"No…" Kraito grunted. "Sorry. I've had a rough morning, y'know?"

She nodded. "We all have those days. I'll let ya be, for now."

"Thanks…" he looked back to the papers at his desk, and renewed his work. He didn't notice Masipag stroll out of his office, and out of sight.

Field Commander F. Williams(aka "Fritzwillie")

SCP Field Retrieval and Containment Commander.

Security Class: 4

Duties: Field Evaluation and Command, Field Recovery.

Current assignments: Site-19, Prometheus project.

"Sir?"

Masipag poked her head through the heavy office door, and peered inside. It was a bare, drab room, with heavy velvet curtains blocking the windows. A single desk lamp sat heavily on the wooden desk, illuminating a note taped to the desks edge.

Sorry Mas, scheduled for testing on 85 today. apologize for absentness. please deposit papers on desk.

"… goddamnit Fritz." She dumped the papers on the desk, and stalked out of the office.

Administrator K█████ D██████(aka "Director Cyrus")

Site-19 Director, under oversight of O5-12.

Security Class: 4

Duties: Administrative

Current assignments: Site-19.

Director Cyrus wasn't a hard man to please. Just do your reports on time, don't bother him, and you could be on his good side forever. So when a peeved young woman burst into his office, he wasn't exactly pleased. Not looking up from his terminal, he noted her entrance.

"Good evening Lieutenant Masipag, did you need something?"

She frowned at him. "It's Fritz. He's messing with Cassie, and missing our meetings. Again."

"Commander Williams has had a scheduled test with SCP-085 since last week. You had plenty of time to check-"

"He told me to meet him today!"

Cyrus glanced up at her. "Perhaps you should have double-checked the dates. If you're going to be doing more recon missions, it'd be in your best interest to be punctual."

"Are you… seriously… sorry for wasting your time, sir."

"Apology accepted. Now, if you please…"

"Cyrus said you were pretty pissed at me."

Fritz took another bite of his sandwich, doing his best to avoid her icy glare.

"He warned you, huh?

"Yeah… Look, I'm sorry I missed the meeting. We were doing major tests with…"

"Sure, sure, whatever. Listen though, did you look over Kraito's research?"

"… Can you give me the cliffs notes?"

"You're impossible, you know that? We spend all this time researching and… y'know what, nevermind."

Fritz sighed. "Look, I know that I've been-"

"Save it. Kraito's stuff showed the metals imported by Prometheus have been weird. Like… really weird. Weird enough to be an anomaly. So I had proposed we upgrade from reconnaissance to a full-blown raid."

Fritz scratched his neck. "Nah, I don't think that'll work, we don't really have enough data to go in gung-ho like that. You gotta remember, Cass-"

"Masipag." She stood, taking her tray with her.

"… Ah, jeez."

Agent Saul Kulzn(aka "HK-016")

Special Retrieval Operations

Security Class: 2

Duties: Field Agent

Current assignments: Site-19, Prometheus Project

Status: Injured during testing of SCP-313. On paid leave until further notice. Returned to active duty.

"… And then he totally gets my name wrong! Like, I know that he was doing all those tests with eighty-five, but he could at least get my name right!"

Saul nodded. "Commander Willie could make do to get his priorities straight. He's been spending more time in the test chamber than his team. I mean. I can understand oh-eight-five being cool to study, but…"

"Study, nuthin'." Masipag harumphed. "He's just trying to spend every second he can with Cassie."

"… That's a fairly serious accusation, Lieutenant. What makes you think Commander Willie would break his professional duty like that?"

"I-"

"And don't say 'it's a hunch', because we both know that means nothing."

"…"

"That's what I thought. Now come, you're going to need to get out of that agents uniform if you're headed to the dorms."

As Masipag stuffed the last of her uniform into the locker, an alarm crackled to life above her head.

« ALL FIELD AGENTS OF THE PROMETHEUS PROJECT, PLEASE REPORT TO YOUR ACTIVE HCML SUPERVISOR. AN IMMEDIATE MEETING HAS BEEN CALLED FOR »

She looked down at the now full locker, sighed, and began pulling out the uniform.

Helicopters flew low over the orange-tinged horizon, and circling the ruins below. Their spotlights showed the scope of disaster. Wrecked cars, obliterated research laboratories, and dead men littered the earth. Masipag squinted from the passenger window, trying to catch a glimpse of anything familiar. Before she could, Fritz's booming voice emanated from the cockpit.

"Masipag! Kulzn! Are you ready to drop?"

Masipag turned her attention from the window, squinting to the brightly lit cockpit. "Fritz, where are we being dropped?"

"Well, we believe the initial detonations happened in the eastern wing, so Kulzn and I will be dropping there. You're going to the western wing, see if you can recover any of the documents."

"What? Shouldn't I go with you?"

"Negative. Kulzn's the better man for the job."

"Unbelievable…" Masipag muttered angrily to herself, slowly moving through the ruined facility. It didn't look at all like she'd imagined. For one, the corridors weren't some glowing, white marble, but plain concrete, scuffed from explosive damage and the collapsed rooftop. Most of the labs looked barren.

As she turned around the corner, she was faced not by another endless row of laboratory doors and broken concrete, but an opened steel vault. Dropping to a crouch, she slowly made her way to the door, keeping her ears and eyes peeled for any kind of sudden movement. As she got closer to the vault door, it became more and more apparent that this vault was hanging on by a thread.

One moment later, it wasn't hanging on at all. It fell to the ground with a tremendous CLANG shaking dust from the ceiling and shuttering the doors. Masipag scrambled backwards, stumbling back around the corner and out of sight. As the dust settled, she peeked her head around a corner, looking towards where the vault door had once stood.

There was a shimmering block of steel, visible through the doorway. It stood taller and wider then the doors confines would allow, limiting her view to one of the corners. This was something big. This was huge.

«Fritz, can you hear me?»

«Yes, you're coming in clear. What is it?»

«You're gonna want to see this for yourself Fritz. It's something else.»

As she drew nearer, something crunched under her foot. It was a piece of charred paper, which was soon in her hand being read.

Research has been drawing to a close on the project. Although we've made some great progress, we haven't been able to solve the diminish/replenish issue that dofs the research and study. Putting in a notice that the budget for next quarter should be reduced unless we get more commercial results.

She flipped it over to the back. There were two simple words printed on it.

TELEKILL ALLOY

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