Fall Witness, Part 1 - SCP Foundation

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by Ethagon

Site-118, 22th September 2021

Highpoint of the Impasse

Site Director Doctor Randall Owings was sitting in a room with what little remained of the Site's leadership. They were in the Beta Wing, the furthest they could be from the Fae Court that had nested in the Delta Wing. The distance would put his Department Heads at ease, even though they were far from the Court's influence. It did not matter to him. He did not fear.

"The Beta Wing reports a loss of ten officially listed anomalies. Among those are four Type Greens." said the Captain. Owings knew her real name, but he respected her wishes. Back when the Fae's schemes had started to spread across the whole Site she had decided to remove her name from circulation entirely. So to not go into bad habits he just thought of her as the Captain.

Owings nodded. "Similar situation to the Gamma Wing. This won't come as a surprise for any of you, given the past few weeks. SCP-2006 has been neutralized by the Impasse."

He could see something approaching grief in his compatriots. Although fraternization with SCP objects was strictly forbidden at 118 without a use case, he never could hinder the attachment his staff had to the Site's 'mascot'.

"Regarding the Delta Wing," Owings started, painfully aware of the missing leader he felt in for. But Dr. Heads Shoulders Knees No Soul was compromised, no two ways about it. "No losses, as always. That concludes the anomalies. Other losses?"

"The technicians informed me about difficulties regarding the Pseudo-Riemannian manifold. They advise against activating the UNION protocol for the next while," said Captain. "It might not align the Wings' individual floors properly upon deactivating it. They deem it very likely we could face a total Site collapse."

"Are the teleporters affected?" That was Dr. Arceo, the Site's expert on the Heart of Rot, one of the artefacts the Foundation intended to use to stop the Impasse.

"They aren't, but they will be before long."

"We need to keep them working. Elevators are not an option as long as Gamma's second floor is untraversable."

"Why don't you use your O5 money?" the Captain snapped. "Maybe you've forgotten it in your special project, but the Site is at its limit. Has been for thirty years."

Owings gave her a sharp look. "That comment goes too far and you know it. We have moral to maintain. In any case, the problem might solve itself. The explosion in floor 2 is slowly receding."

Three decades ago they had traded Dr. Arceo's future away for a Court decision of a then-imminent explosion. It would have taken the entire Gamma Wing with it. Of course, Owings was no fool when it came to Fae deals. After the deal was struck, he had pointed out that Arceo's future would always stay in the future. Any possession they had likely intended was moot. It would be a long time before they got one over him again.

"Oh! If the second level is free can I put a new farm there?" asked Carrot Goldleaf.

Owings weighed the request of his biological department head up. "Are there any bottlenecks in food production?"

"There might be in the future!"

"Just stay on top of it and notify us if it gets worse."

"Got it!"

Owings looked around the table. "If that's it for losses then we'll move to the next point. Containing SCP-6500."

Arceo frowned. "There's not much we could do with the Heart of Rot outside of our current procedures."

"There is one final thing we can do with the Heart."

"You better not be implying what I think you're implying." The Captain's disapproval came as no surprise.

"That's exactly what I'm implying. The Autumn Court handles things that decline. Few things fit as well into their portfolio as SCP-6500."

"If they'd be interested in handling that, they'd done so already."

"That won't be a problem. They just need an incentive."

"You're gonna give them the heart." The Captain shook her head. "Say something, Logan!"

Arceo had his head down, his eyes on a room far far below them. "That heart has made my life a nightmare ever since we carved it out of— ever since we recovered it." He looked up, his eyes empty. "I want it gone."

Owings nodded. "That settles it."

"How can you all be like this? We should use the Impasse to destroy the Fae, not empower them."

"Nobody's underestimating them, Captain." Owings stood up and pulled on his jacket. "So before we start the trial, I'll get my dog."

The Autumn Court was not what it used to be. What once had been a serene autumnal forest was now interrupted by old rusty Foundation hallways here and there. The clarity of all the Fae being under one name, Feallen, and no more than voices in the wind, was gone with it. Countless of the denizens who still had enough awareness had followed in the footsteps of SCP-6401-A. Undergoing deals with the Foundation to flee their trap of a name.

Now all these sidhe were staring at him through the eyes of his former staff. To add insult to injury they had corrupted the stolen names to the point of unpronounceability. Something about making the new name 'rare'. Deep in their trickery these Fae often forgot the high-tech facility they occupied. Every single one of these artificially sparsened names had been recorded; the sound system ready to echo the names throughout the Site.

They were all here, except for the Captain. Hiding her fear under the excuse of "cautiousness," she had instead elected a soldier to act as a permanent connection to her seat in the Beta Wing. Whatever good that would bring her.

Just as promised Owings had brought his 'dog'. Already some of the Fae were hiding their tension, his hound revelling in the fear.

SCP-6401-A was standing on a podium of wood and rust in midst the clearing of the forest. As usual, he wore a dress in autumnal colours accompanied by a spider silk wig and a look of indignation on his pale face. He opened one arm vaguely in their direction.

"I see the Witnesses of the Foundation, yet there is no trial?"

"We come to you today not as Witnesses, but as accusers." Stepping into the clearing, Owings repeated the words like reading them from paper. His opposite acted the words out with invested disinterest.

"It is customary for one to have no more than one role in the Court. You may not be both Witness and accuser." — "I will not be a Witness for this trial." — "Then will you return your invitation?" — "No. I will stay as Witness for all intends and purposes outside of where my role as accuser in the coming trial is required." — "Well."

With that, SCP-6401-A lowered his arm. A different Fae stepped forward. "What do you accuse?"

"The continued increase of anomalous-targeting entropy, otherwise known as SCP-6500 or the Impasse, goes against the reality-ecosystem established by the Cycle of Seasons. Particularly its universality and targeting of concepts like entropy itself leaves no room for safe harbour anywhere and in the long-term leads to a premature death of the universe."

SCP-6401-A turned his head slightly to look at the other Fae. "Shall we proceed to the verdict?"

Owings had not left the clearing. This had, as always, been the right decision. "Won't you hold the whole trial? Is it no longer 'customary' to do so?"

"It is a different matter when the Court has already deliberated on the subject, which is naturally the case with something as grave as this. This Court is very busy, with over five thousand cases on hold." There was no smirk visible to human eyes on SCP-6401-A's practised face, yet Owings would have bet his personnel on it being there.

"May I still present evidence to this Court that might be of… greater import to Autumn?"

SCP-6401-A laughed the musical scale up and down. "You have nothing in your possession that would alter the outcome of this trial."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. We—"

"He's right." Arceo stepped forward, his eyes darkened. In his hand, he held the Heart of Rot.

The rest of Owings's entourage stepped back, uselessly, after seeing the breached artifact. The Director let his face turn red. Intimidation was the best measure here. "I hope for you, there's an explanation for this."

"They took my future, Randall. Every thought of mine that's just a moment after the present is theirs. And they have shown me things. There is no good way out of this. The heart won't help; your Site will falter, and there is no stopping the Impasse. If the world is doomed either way, then I will choose the doom that is most palpable for us. This they have promised me."

Owings spat on the ground before the old man. "You already talk like them. Go to your new friends. See how well they keep their promises." He took less than a moment to calm down and reorient himself. "There are other things than the Heart—"

"Owings, let me give you the last kindness you'll ever receive." This time SCP-6401-A actually smiled. "You could give the world to us and this trial would end the same way. The Impasse is a force far beyond this world alone. Only if two-thirds of all possible Autumn Courts agreed to stop it, could your SCP-6500 be halted."

None of the Autumn Fae were able to lie, which made them apt in the art of weaving sentences together that meant different things entirely. So Owings went over the last statement in his head for a short time. He had to concede that this time, the Fae had told the absolute truth.

"May we proceed with the trial now."

Owings bowed stiffly and left the main clearing. Only moments after did the wind of Feallen come together and spoke the verdict.

You made your choice, you pay the price

For you, there won't be paradise

The Impasse must remain

Here, in Autumns own Domain

You will fade.

"I offer you to stay for a moment longer. The next steps undoubtedly require your Witness."

Owings bowed again. Not that he had any intention of leaving without the heart.

SCP-6401-A left the podium. He ventured into the clearing with wide steps. "We are all of us Feallen. A name unsuitable for more than one. Certainly not a title that this Court's entourage should yield. Today will be the first break in this. I have volunteered myself to be the first to test this method. Others may follow safely or learn from my mistake. Step forward, child." He gestured to Arceo. The old man trudged in his direction. He still held the Heart in his outstretched arm, with some effort.

"We don't have all day." SCP-6401-A looked down on Arceo. "Your future has shown you what to do. Make it present."

Arceo pressed into the Heart.

Someone next to Owings audibly sucked in air, but that wasn't important right now. He could feel it. It was here. In just a moment the presence of the Impasse, formerly completely absent from the Delta Wing, surged forward. With pinpoint precision, a path of anomalous oblivion reached SCP-6401-A.

Something fundamental snapped.

Arceo gasped for air. The destruction had stopped. The Impasse was seemingly back to its snail-paced destruction of the Delta Wing. The lightning arc of oblivion, through which he could see the Wing as it was before the Court, remained.

"As Fae of no royal standing in this Court," the dressed individual in the clearing stood as straight as ever. "I have the privilege of naming myself. If any law or rite ought to deny me this right it shall now strike true." A pause. Another featureless smirk. "Then from now on I will be known as Aevrendhíl."

Then the Fae exchanged pleasantries with each other, congratulating Aevrendhíl presumably, all while their called-on Witness stood and waited.

To Owings's great displeasure, one of these exchanges happened with his company, Carrot Goldleaf.

How had he not suspected Goldleaf? Thinking just a little about it revealed quite a bit of incriminating evidence. It was irrelevant now. He had to focus on the task at hand.

Goldleaf left his side without another word.

After his long victory lap, Aevrendhíl saw it in him to release his guests. "That will be all."

Owings bowed in return.

"Before we leave, there is another potential trial I want to bring to this Court's attention." As on command, his 'dog' started to growl. "It concerns the future mutilation of large portions of this Court's residents."

The Fae stood still, their kind far from immune to fear.

"You think I let you into my Site without contingencies? Let you steal my people without consequence? I have given you a long olive branch, but I believe it is time for the stick."

Aevrendhíl slandered back to the podium. "Your behaviour is as unseemly as it is pointless. Your pet cannot hurt us."

"Don't think this anomaly is the only thing in my arsenal, but it should do just fine for now. So." He clapped his hands. In response, his hound jumped forward. "I would really prefer to stop these mutilations, but a few things need to be negotiated for that."

"I've entertained this for long enough. Do I need to remind you that this 'dog' never received an invitation to this Court?" As soon as the words left Aevrendhíl's mouth, Owings's weapon began to age. The hound tried to deny its fate by diving headlong towards its perceived tormentor. The 'dog' didn't make it even half the way to Aevrendhíl.

It made a valiant effort. Its last steps were drawn out, each one more painful and slower than the last, until it finally sacked into itself. The punishment didn't stop there. Even its corpse was subjected to fastened decay, until not even dust remained of Owings anomaly.

"Furthermore," Aevrendhíl had reached the podium. "You, Randall Owings, have given access to one of the uninvited. A crime befitting of similar punishment to your pet." He paused.

Owings let the damn Fae have his dramatic pause.

"However," Aevrendhíl continued. "There is precedent for a different treatment. Am I correct in assuming that you did not expect a being such as your pet to be subject to the rules of invitation?"

"You may assume so." Again that featureless smirk.

"Precedent suggests mercy, in such an unfortunate situation as yours."

"And in turn?"

"Oh, nothing really. But we are talking about your life here. It is customary that you would have to be eternally grateful towards the one that provided such mercy."

Oh no. The Court practically had the Site in its hand, there wasn't much they could want out of the Director position. The only reason they would want him was his authority that kept their O5 contact from getting an invitation to the Autumn Court. A position that was currently held by the O4 Council, an executive organ comprised of directors and other level 4 personnel that occasionally served as a tiebreaker in O5 votes.

"Mercy does not have much patience. Do we have a deal?"

Owings took a deep breath and spoke: "I resign from my post; yes, we have a deal."

Aevrendhíl did not move a muscle in his face. Still, he was grinning from ear to ear.

"Did I hear that correctly?" The Captain, or rather the Director, spoke through her intermediary for the first time.

"Yes, you have to activate Project Shatterbi-" — "No. I don't take orders from someone compromised." — "We can still control them, but you have to act now!" — "Oh, I'm acting. Doing what I should have done ages ago."

"Ah, the Captain." Aevrendhíl was stepping closer to properly hear the conversation. "The most aloof of your staff. If you allow me-" — "No. Here's how this is going to go. You try anything, you try talking to me outside of what I'll allow you and this Site goes down."

Owings tried to speak up, but Aevrendhíl disapproved. He owed him too much to speak up. Now and evermore.

"Captain, I must apologize, but I doubt you have the capabilities to follow up on that claim."

"Call me by the same name one more time and the Site goes as well. And I can back it up. I have a button in front of me that will deactivate the Riemannian Manifold. As the Director I have the authority to execute this command. Do we have an understanding? Answer with yes or no."

"Naturally, if I may just ask one question-" — "No."

And with that Site-118 imploded.

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Cycle of Seasons

Fall Witness, Part 2