The Lampeter Limited - SCP Foundation

Running is the one thing I remember when it happened. Running from my home that was never my home. Running from friends and family who claim I never existed. Running from the life that was mine, but fell through my fingers as it crumbled around me. I became a stranger in my world, and the world became a stranger to me.

Not having an identity. Drifting through life. Never being able to stay in one place for longer than a few weeks before I find myself somewhere else. I don’t even have control over my destinations. I go to sleep in Paris and wake up in Chicago with no idea how I even got there.

But one day, I woke up on a train platform that shouldn’t have existed. I had been spending the last few weeks here in Hokkaido and knew there wasn’t supposed to be a train station here. Least of all one whose tracks were two feet below the waterline. But once the train pulled into the station, settled, and opened its doors, I felt a strange pull. Almost like it was calling to me.

For once, it seemed that I could almost see a path forward in my new existence. So, I grabbed my small pack of clothing and essentials and boarded the train.

My first trip on the Lampeter Network, ‘though I had no idea where it might take me.

A Nobody on a train to nowhere.

‘Hello there, Agent Benetti. A pleasure, as always.’

I hadn’t even taken stock of my dining partner as I found an empty seat in one of the Lampeter Train’s dining cars, but I recognized them immediately. The stranger I keep meeting in liminal spaces–transitory areas such as trains, airports, and the like. The Lampeter Network appears to be a favorite of theirs.

‘I suppose I should extend the same courtesies. A pleasure…’my friend’? I realize you’ve never shared your name with me.’

‘Ahhh, yes, I haven’t. I suppose it’s because I respect you too much to lie to you.’

‘Lie to me?’

‘I don’t have a name. I certainly lie and use some to blend in. Blake, Rory, Quinn, and so on. It helps if I should find myself running into someone multiple times. Pretend we’ve never met, give a new name, learn new things about them.’

A member of the waitstaff arrived to take my order, and I regarded my companion’s meal for a few moments.

‘Is that a pulled pork sandwich?’

‘Oh, yes. But it’s made from a kind of boar in universe Lambda-36. It’s from their version of Brazil and feeds on a native pepper that is quite spicy. That spice gets built up in their muscle, and that’s why they call it ‘javali picante’. It’s not waffles, but still quite delicious.’

I ordered the pulled ‘javali picante’ sandwich.

‘So…what are you doing here this time?’

‘Should I have a reason to want to enjoy the sights and interdimensional food that the Lampeter Network offers? Just look at that view, Agent.’

I had to admit, they had a point. As the train rolled through universe Gamma-842, we were treated to the rolling landscape of the Great Northern Savannah. A herd of gazellodon could be seen lazily wandering across the grasslands and grazing on choice patches of grass. Just over a nearby ridge, the head of a leopardsaurus could be seen poking out to study the prey animals.

‘It does have a certain charm to it, doesn’t it…?’

They just offered me a bemused smile before taking a moment to dig back into their meal while I patiently waited for my own food to arrive. As they ate, I sat, sipped at my gin, and watched the prehistoric landscape drift by. I saw the leopardsaurus sprinting over the ridge and barrelling towards its prey just as my companion spoke up again, taking my attention away from the fate of the prey.

‘Do you ride the Lampeter Network often?’

‘Oh, no, I’m on assignment as a liaison to another Foundation. We’re to collaborate on investigating a strange individual who only shows up in…liminal…spaces…’

The sudden realization slapped me on the cheek as I stared at the stranger across from me. They simply set down their silverware and offered me a cheeky grin.

‘Oh, you’re going to Omega-432? Do give my best to Agent Oliver! She’s been chasing me for quite a while now.’

Rules of civility in this dining cart were almost forgotten as I rounded on them with a stern tone.

‘… Are you fucking with us? You know we will catch you if you are a threat.’

‘Oh, I have no delusions that you all could snatch me up…eventually. That is not why I am not, as you said, ‘fucking with you.’ Nor am I a threat to any form, or iteration, of the Foundation. Like many of the people you Jailers round up, I simply wish to live my life in peace.’

My companion waved their hand around to gesture to the surrounding train to emphasize their words.

‘This right here. This is all I desire. To meet others in these liminal spaces where my identity isn’t that important and I can get to know their stories. I am not some…entity of destruction, agent. I am a traveler. A wanderer. A lover of people and their stories.'

They offered a subdued gesture to turn my attention to a couple a few seats away from us.

'For instance… That couple? She’s from Beta-249. He’s from Omega-019. They met here on the train a few years ago as each fled the Jailers in their own dimensions. They took comfort in each other when they met right here in the dining car and spent that night sharing drinks and stories. And they’ve been together ever since. Quite the beautiful story, no?’

They gave me the chance to study the two for a few moments as my companion took a drink. The couple looked so happy. A small tinge of jealousy sprang up within me.

‘Those two ride this train every year on their anniversary, you know. Just getting a sleeper car and riding the rails. Usually, they find a stop that looks interesting, and safe from you Jailers, and spend a few days in that universe. Other times, they simply ride one way for a while, then ride back to their home universe.’

A sudden look of anger flashed over the stranger’s face as their mood turned, but their wine glass quickly hid the expression as they spoke into it before taking a long drink.

‘Are you going to haul them away now? Report them to their respective Jailers and have them locked up for daring to exist?’

The sudden accusations weren't unusual for me, but something about my companion's reaction… I don't believe I had seen that kind of vitriol from them before.

‘… As long as they do not threaten the Veil, I see no reason to do so. Why are you giving me the third degree here?’

That look of anger didn’t disappear as they roughly set their wine glass down.

‘Oh, perhaps because so many Foundations keep trying to lock up myself and my counterparts across all these possible dimensions?’

I sensed that our meeting was coming to an end as the peculiar person before me lightly wiped their mouth with their napkin, tossed it down, stood, and regarded me with more anger than I’d ever seen from them before.

‘I lied to you earlier, Agent. I have a name. One you might recognize well.

'Nobody.’

With that, the Nobody walked out of the dining cart, leaving me to consider the report I’d now have to write up.

And the mountain of scrutiny I’d soon be under.

This last meeting with Agent Benetti was our… sixth time crossing paths, I believe? Maybe seven, it's hard to keep track sometimes. ‘Though I don’t believe they were aware of the first two chats we had. Still, it was only now that we were both noticing our ‘connection’, if one could call it that. It’s been very rare that I meet the same person more than a couple times. Much less six times!

I’m not sure if there is any meaning to this new pattern in my strange life, but I have to admit that a part of me is looking forward to getting to see him again. The Network has been the only real consistency I’ve known since I became Nobody. Could it be that the Foundation is secretly chasing after me? Was Benetti feigning ignorance with me as he kept tabs on me?

Or is there nothing nefarious about Benetti at all?

Could it be as simple as the fact I now have a friend?

The focus of my work shifted once it was confirmed that the entity our Foundation Agents kept reporting on the Lampeter Network was indeed a Nobody. I’ve been assigned a liaison with the SCP-7005 research team for the time being and have spent much of my time simply traversing the Lampeter Network through the dimensions. Primarily by train, but many times I’ve found myself sleeping on busses stuck in weeks-long traffic, lazily drifting through the skies on hot air balloons, and even spending a week riding horseback to reach the next Lampeter station. The Network truly is…something else.

As much as I am enjoying seeing the wonders of the multiverse, it has been months since my last interaction with Nobody. At this point, I’m almost certain they are purposefully avoiding me. Not that I blame them.

From the reports on the numerous Nobodies the Foundation has kept on file, it is obvious they aren’t, exactly, a coordinated group. Certainly, some work together when they meet each other, but most appear to be independent operatives. Ones whose goals and methods vary wildly. Some are simple observers, trying to find some semblance of the person they lost. Others…are far more active in their attempts to be ‘somebody’ and return to who they once were by pulling strings of the world that ripple out into significant movements. Small actions that become big events as if the Nobody is screaming out 'Here I am! I exist! I'm SOMEBODY!'

This Nobody, though, appears to belong to the observer group. My few conversations with them suggest they simply wish to get to know other people and understand their lives. Almost like a collector of stories.

They may be gathering information for some Group of Interest, or even just for their own schemes. But perhaps they simply get a kick out of learning about other people’s lives?

I also have to wonder…are they lonely? Could it be as simple as these fleeting connections in liminal spaces are the deepest ‘connections’ they can make? Does the Network allow them to be considered ‘a somebody’ on some level? Could it simply be that in these liminal spaces, we all become a little more like Nobody, and closer to who they are?

As this particular Nobody keeps coming to see me, I have to ask; what do I mean to this Nobody?

Then another question comes to mind…

What do they mean to me?

Why do I remember being Nobody? Why do others remember 'me' so well when I’m not pretending I’m someone else?

Why does every attempt to be ‘somebody’ always end with everything fading away?

I remember my first day being Nobody. And most days after, as long as I don’t pretend to be ‘somebody’.

I do not remember my first attempt, but I remember when it all fell apart. As soon as I was reminded that I was Nobody, my lack of a sense of self slapped me in the face.

Does that mean that ‘Nobody’ is who I truly am?

Maybe not a lack of a self, but a refusal from the universe to allow me to be 'somebody'. As long as I go along with it, I get to, at the least, be Nobody.

Ugh… I’m tired of trying to philosophize my own existence. I am going to keep pushing myself to try to be ‘somebody’, but I’m beginning to feel as if I am simply screaming into the void.

It was around the stop for Universe Echo-679 that someone lightly roused me from my sleep.

A lightly smiling Nobody greeted me, sitting next to me with a mimosa in each hand. One of which was being offered to me. Perhaps it was risky to trust them, but I took the offered drink, clinked glasses, and toasted.

‘À votre santé.’

‘’To my health’, eh…? Hmmm… How about la santé des anormaux?’

‘To the health of the abnormal…?’

A soft sigh slipped from my lips, much to Nobody’s amusement. Still, I drank to the shared toast.

‘So…you’re purposefully visiting me now instead of us having ‘chance meetings’?’

‘Well, you are the only agent in all the multiverse who’s assigned to follow me right now—since Agent Oliver was reassigned to another Nobody. So I figured I should check up on you every now and then when chance throws us together.’

A curious look crossed my face at that.

‘'When chance throws us together'? You’re telling me you aren’t in control of where you end up…?’

‘Mostly, yes. A part of my condition, I imagine. It seems I can try to force myself to stay in one place for a short while, but one day I’ll wake up somewhere completely new.’

My next question was offered in a cautionary way, but I couldn't hide the slight concern in my tone.

‘And what if this drifting finds you locked up in a containment cell…?’

My drinking partner smiled and gestured wildly with their hands, nearly spilling their drink.

‘Then I’ll find myself with a new group of particular individuals I can learn from. You Jailers certainly have a very peculiar perspective on what life should be for the rest of us. At any rate, I’m sure I wouldn’t be staying too long.’

‘You think you can so easily break containment?’

Nobody laughed lightly and batted away the question as if it was the silliest thing they had heard.

‘No, as I said, I just know that I never stay in one place for too long. Whether or not I want to. Except for…here. On the Network.’

‘Why? What’s so special about this place?’

Nobody fell silent for a few moments, their eyes gazing out the window at the blazing neon lights of universe Iota-006’s Neo Los Angeles. The bustle of the Pacific Mega Harbour that had overtaken the entire borough of Long Beach seemed to have drawn their attention.

‘Where are we right now, Agent?’

‘Ummm…on a train…? On the Lampeter Network…?’

‘Which is always moving. We may stop every now and then, but we keep moving.’

Nobody would take a moment to take a long sip on their mimosa before continuing.

‘Do you know that only 36 people have actually ridden this entire line from Zeta-999 to Alpha-001? Half of them were members of the Lampeter family.

'…'

'I think I’d like to join their ranks one day.’

‘So, wait, are you suggesting that the Network allows you to stay in ‘one place’? You’re always moving, but you can ride the Network as much as you want without…’wandering’, or whatever causes you to just pop up in different places?’

Nobody stroked their chin for a few moments as they leaned back in their chair and gazed up at the ceiling in thought.

‘Hmmm…perhaps? I can’t say I really understand who I am, what’s happened to me, why this happened to me, or where it’s taking me. Certainly, some other Nobodies have theories about our predicament, but I feel like ruminating on it won’t really help me.’

I took my turn falling quiet, and gazed out the window just as the line skipped between dimensions. The lights of Iota-006’s Neo Los Angeles gave way to somewhere I was unfamiliar with. It reminded me of the Hokkaido seaside and looked absolutely lovely to me, but Nobody seemed a little disturbed by the sight. Finally, I broke the silence

‘Maybe this is the closest thing to a ‘home’ you have…?’

‘OH! You know, I had never considered that. Perhaps you are right? I do love wandering these corridors more than anything and no other place feels quite so comfortable to me.’

Suddenly, the Nobody next to me became quite animated.

‘I knew you were a kindred soul, Agent Benetti! You would make a fine Nobody!’

The statement had me suddenly choking on my drink, to which Nobody leaned over and slapped me lightly on the back to help me regain my breath.

‘Wai-Wait, are you saying I’m turning into a Nobody?!’

A small chuckle rumbled out of Nobody as they leaned back in the seat.

‘Oh, no. No, no, no. You would know, trust me.’

The mirth drained from Nobody as they slowly swirled their drink and contemplated it.

‘One day…you’d wake up, sure of who you are. Until you try to remember your name. And find you can’t recall. Did you ever have one? Not a single soul appears to remember you, the concept of "you" is falling apart even in your own head. Friends, family, and your favorite bartender; all have forgotten you. And you can only find faint traces that you even existed. Then those traces slowly fall away, tumbling out of your mind until there’s…nothing.

That is when you realize who you are, Agent. You are Nobody. And that is all you can ever be…’

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, contemplating our drinks and Nobody’s words.

Five months in Boreal-Seattle in universe Zeta-391. The longest I’ve stayed in one place outside the Network’s plans, trains, and automobiles. I thought…

FUCK! I thought it all might have finally passed. I had a name, Brynn, I had friends and an apartment. I was becoming known. Becoming somebody.

A wild night with my new friends ended with me returning home and passing out in my bed. When I woke up, I was in a hostel in Brussels, Germany. They kicked me out pretty quickly when I began screaming and crying in frustration. Even if I hadn’t made a scene, they had no record of me staying with them.

I still had my phone, so I tried calling my friends.

They didn’t know who I was.

My landlord had never heard of me.

It happened all over again.

I was becoming somebody! I was cobbling together a life for myself. Bit by bit, finding some semblance of a stable existence.

And it was stolen once more. Not by a person or thing. But by the universe itself. Reality slapping me around and reminding me that these things are not allowed for me.

Reminding me that I am Nobody.

And that is all I will ever be.

‘Agent Benetti…’

The usually chipper Nobody stepped into my car and took the seat opposite me, much clearly on their mind.

‘Hello, Nob-’

‘NO! Brynn. Please, Agent… Please call me Brynn.’

Brynn surprised me by cutting me off, but I quickly recovered and tried to offer a comforting smile.

‘Brynn, it’s good to see you again.’

‘The same to you, Agent. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see a familiar face.’

Despite Brynn’s words, their gaze was cast across the tracks to the coastal waters of a version of Hokkaido I was unfamiliar with. A pair of whaleotters created enormous waves as they splashed around and played together. After a few minutes, Brynn finally broke the silence.

‘Why do you think we keep meeting…?’

‘I’m not sure. At first, I thought you just liked something about me. But you’ve said you aren’t really in control of where you end up. Maybe…’

I let the thought linger for a few moments.

‘Maybe you’re beginning to understand what it is to be ‘somebody’, if only a little. Maybe you’re getting some control-’

Brynn suddenly cut me off.

‘HAHAHAHA!’

The barking laughter surprised me, particularly because it contained no joy. It rang hollow, an amusement with my optimism. I could see tears of frustration building in the corners of Brynn’s eyes.

‘I spent the last five months being somebody. I lived in Zeta-391’s Boreal-Seattle. I had friends, a home, a… a life. This is the first time I’ve been back on the Network since we last spoke. Agent, I…I had a name. I had a life. I could use the bits of ‘somebody’ that I had cobbled together after all this time on the Network.’

Anger flashed over their face as they slammed their hand into the wall of the car hard enough to leave an indentation.

‘It all fell apart again, dammit! Just like fucking always!’

The anger quickly melted away as Brynn nursed their injured hand and pulled their feet up to their chest. I had never seen them so…vulnerable. I didn’t want to press them, so I simply sat and offered my presence.

Soon, the train rumbled to a stop at a station somewhere around a station I had seen similar versions of in other universes, one that was nestled in the seaside of Hokkaido, and it stirred something within Brynn. They spoke in a soft whisper, as if speaking too loudly would make it all too real.

‘Universe Lambda-495. Hokkaido… This is where it all first happened, Agent. This is where I first found the Network and stepped onto the train.'

The next five words were spoken with so much pain and anguish in Nobody's voice that it shocked me.

'This is my original universe…’

I took a few moments to admire the landscape and watch as the whale-otters noticed a pod of tiger-dolphins. The two sped off through the water, leaving another large wake as they playfully chased their new friends.

‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah… This is the first time I’ve seen it since I woke up on the platform.’

‘You’ve never been back?’

A harsh, pained laughed curled out of Brynn's throat at the question.

‘What does it hold for me? The only memories I have of this world are flashes of me stumbling around in terror as I was denied the chance to have my own life.’

A light ‘ding’ rang out through the train to signal the doors were closing and we were soon rumbling off to the next stop.

Brynn leaned their head against the window and watched the harbor slip away.

‘All this world does is remind me of who I am. And who I’ll never be.’

I found a photograph today. It was buried deep in my bag, crumpled and forgotten.

It was of me and a group of people. We had our arms around each other and were laughing.

I don’t… know any of them, or that version of myself, but it looks like we had been friends. I rarely ever catch myself smiling that much.

On the back was scribbled a small note:

‘Brynn, I know you are reserved and nervous around others. But, we all love spending time with you! Come around more often, please!’

With a sigh, I crumpled the photo and tossed it away.

I don’t know them. I don’t know that place. I don’t know ‘Brynn’.

Despite the fact I had forgotten ‘Brynn’ and those people, something inside me stirred.

I retrieved the photo, uncrumpled it, and stared as tears fell that I did not understand.

In a mad rush, I threw out all the contents of my bag and sifted through them. And found four more photos.

Just how many times have I done this?

The Network is made up of more than a series of trains and platforms. A highway that never ends, a series of carriage rides through The Forest of Fox-Eared Assholes, a lazy balloon ride.

Here? I found myself with a pair of skis strapped to my feet, waiting for the lift to take me up to the transfer station. I was too lost in my concern over my poor ability to navigate on skis that I was barely ready when the lift hit my butt and pulled me back into the seat. It was only then that I finally took note of who had been standing next to me as the lift caught both our butts.

They kicked their feet lightly as we lifted off, a delighted grin spread over their face while they took in the scenery. Finally, they noticed me and that grin spread even wider.

‘AGENT BENETTI! So good to see you, and at one of my favorite transfer stations! Have you been to the Chi-008 Everest station before?!’

‘Oh, He-Hello there, Brynn.’

Nobody gave me a quizzical look.

‘Who…?’

It was my turn to be taken aback. They had been so adamant that they were Brynn in our last meeting. I suppose I figured they had found a way to become ‘somebody’, if only a little.

‘Oh, my apologies, Nobody. I was thinking about someone else and accidentally said their name.’

‘Haha! No worries at all! I might have said that was my name at some point, but we both know names don’t stick around for long with me.’

A twinge of sadness ran through me as I watched Nobody happily return to admiring the landscape of Everest. They seemed blissfully unaware of how close they had come to being ‘somebody’.

‘You haven’t told me, is this your first time here?’

‘Yes… I didn’t quite realize how high up the lift would be taking us…’

Despite my reservations, Nobody gestured wildly around at the landscape, causing our lift to bounce a little more than I'd like.

‘Ooh, but look at that view! And it’s so much fun tubin’ down from the lift drop-off to the station.’

‘Well, I’m afraid I opted for skis..’

Nobody laughed brightly at my choice and motioned to the innertube around their arm.

‘Oh, no, no. Not for me. I couldn’t ever get past pizza, french fries, all that. I’d much rather feel the rush of my butt being mere inches from the snow as I fly down at unsafe speeds!’

‘Well, you will certainly arrive before me. My abilities on skis aren’t much further than where yours are.’

With a grin, Nobody turned and showed me their inner tube again, pointing to the handles on the side.

‘No worries, it has brakes! I can slow down and keep you company.’

Nobody’s excitement was infectious as it brought a warm smile to my lips.

‘I’d like that.’

As Nobody’s attention shifted away from me and returned to the landscape, the smile drained from my face. And I quietly mourned the loss of Brynn.

I have seven photographs now. Each holds myself with a different group and my smiling face. On the back, they all have a note to whoever I had been.

Rori, Sage, Quinn, Alex, Brynn, Kai, and Remi.

None of those names mean anything to me. Other than reminders of sad attempts for me to claw back a life.

Just like my original life, they all fell apart and slipped away from my memories. And everyone else's.

Even the photos seemed to be rapidly aging over time, the earliest one already appears faded nearly a century. But it couldn’t have been more than a couple of years old. Guess reality doesn't even want me to be able to remember that I've tried to be something other than a Nobody.

But… why was I holding onto them? To remind myself of my curse? To try and fight it? Or are they just sad attempts to prove I exist as something more than a Nobody?

Who am I trying to prove it to? Myself? Why would I need to do that? I exist right now, so why do I need to prove I existed in the past?

Why should it matter so much to me to know who I had attempted to be?

The only answer that comes to me now is ‘it doesn’t matter’.

After all these years of being Nobody, I think I’m finally coming to accept that.

All these photos, these attempts to be ‘somebody’… They're just lies. Attempts to deny who I truly am.

So, with a light sigh, I released the photos from my hand. The wind coming through the open-air car of the train quickly picked them up. For a few moments, they danced around in front of me, as if tempting me to grab at them and vainly try to enforce my desires on reality.

But I don’t move. So they were simply swept outside, the physical reminders of my past attempts to be 'somebody' disappearing just as the mental ones did long ago.

And a small smile lit up my face as I leaned back in my chair to watches the aqua farms of Rho-894’s version of Atlantis drift by.

I’ve finally accepted it.

I am Nobody.

And that is all I want to be.

After our last meeting, Nobody appeared to have gone underground–or at least their anomalous powers kept us from seeing each other again. Three years had gone by with not even another agent, in my universe or the others we liaison with, catching a hint of them. Soon, the case got put onto the back burner, and I was reassigned.

So it was I found myself sitting at a bar in O’Hare airport of my home universe, Mu-842, simply waiting for a plane to take me to Dublin to hunt down some little bastard with a penchant for gutting its victims and coating its hat with their blood.

Sitting in a liminal space like this, I can’t help but let my mind drift back to Nobody and our time together. Despite the drive of my supervisors to contain them, I'd been mulling over a thought that could have harsh consequences for me.

To be a Nobody is to have a life of isolation. Cut off from even a stable conception of who one is. Many Nobodies work in the shadows, carrying out agendas only they seem to understand.

But everything I learned about this one suggests they have no desire to act like that. They do not want to make a large impact on the worlds in an attempt to prove they exist. They simply wish to find some form of human connection–even if it is incredibly fleeting. Just something to make them feel alive, real, and noticed.

So it was that I found myself flagging down the bartender as the seat next to me was taken. I ordered two mimosas. One for me and one for my drinking partner. We didn’t even say a word at first, simply waiting for our drinks before taking a moment to smile and clink our glasses lightly.

‘La santé des anormaux’, they said with a cheeky grin.

With my own cheeky grin, I offered a toast I had been preparing, should I ever meet them again.

‘À votre sante ne Personne.’