She yearned to scorch the creature with flame, or freeze it to the 
garbage, or bind it in vines. But the metal collar digging into her neck 
taunted her. If she tried any sort of rite, it would respond, sending a 
surge of electricity through her body strong enough to render her 
comatose. 


She felt the garbage above her shift. The creature getting closer. 
The sound of its grunts made the scrap tremble. She could feel the 
weight above her lifting as it stripped her protection away. Tensing, 
she waited. The noise grew higher, like a dog whining in anticipation 
of meal. Not yet. She kept waiting. A beam of light peeked into the 
nest. She could see the shadow of its talons.Her muscles trembled. 


Its claw scraped her back and she struck. Amy roared, leaping up 
from the garbage and hurling herself at the beast with all the force 
she could muster. They collided, fell, tumbled down a mountain of 
trash. Bits of broken metal and wood and wire tore at her skin. She 
ignored the pain, slamming the steel point into the creature’s chest, 
its arms, its eye, grinning at its howls of agony. Before it could attack 
her she pushed off. She struck the bottom of the pile and jumped to 
her feet. A few feet from her was a broken metal beam, a remnant of 
the massive, dilapidated ships that filled the scrapyard. 


She snatched it. Before the creature had time to stand she charged 
it again, beating the beam against it. It fell to its knees. She kept 
attacking, striking again and again, until the pole snapped and the 
creature was barely more than mush. 


Amy let the rod slipped from her fingers. She stepped back, panting. 
Her whole body shook with adrenaline and fatigue. For a moment, 
everything was still. The world was silent but for buzzing flies and 
the far-off whine of compaction engines. 


A moment was all she had. The creature’s body was already 
beginning to knit itself together. She rushed off, taking a random 
path through the piles. If the creature caught up to her again, there 
would be nothing she could do. Just moving made her feel like she 
would collapse. Her run wasn’t much more than a limping jog. Dark 
frames threatened to close off the edges of her vision. 


She barely had time to react before the creature struck. It slammed 
into her from behind, launching her into a mound of trash. Clawed 
fingers wrapped around her throat. Amy stared up at a canine face, 
still half-smashed in, dripping with white blood. The creature smiled. 
And spoke. 


“I’ve been waiting so long for you.” 
Amy gurgled, struggling for breath through its grip. 
“When you return, remember this. You belong to me.” 


And then, between one blink and the next, the world was replaced 
by darkness. The grip around her throat disappeared. The garbage 
and stench vanished. She was no longer trapped by a monster but 
huddled in a featureless cell in total blackness. The only sound was 
her gasps and a constant, far-off scream. 


In this room there was no time. No testing to mark the days or 
weeks. No meals to count off the hours. How long had she been 
here? A week? A month? More? At first she’d tried counting her 
sleep cycles. They’d begun to blur together before she reached five, 
the division between reality and unconscious slipping away. The 
only moments of clarity were when she was yanked away to another 
universe, hunted like an animal. Even if she escaped the creature, 
she always returned here. To the Foundation. She wanted to 
scream. She wanted to slam her head against the wall until she felt 
her skull crack. But it wouldn’t do any good. 


She may have been able to cope if it weren't for the isolation. The 
first time they’d imprisoned her, three years ago, the Witness’ 
absence had relieved her. To finally have the voice gone, after it 
ruined her life- it was a small relief in the horror of the imprisonment. 
This time the Witnesses’ disappearance felt like a missing limb. So 
she lay on the floor, day after imperceivable day, wondering when 
this would end. 


The answer came in a brilliant light that bisected the darkness of the 
cell like a razor. Amy squealed as it flooded the room. She clamped 
her eyes shut, but she could still see the screen of flame-red burning 
through her eyelids. The sound that came from her cracked throat 
was less that of ahuman than a wounded animal. 


Large hands grabbed her shoulders. A pair of handcuffs slid over 
her wrists. The hands yanked her up. Still blinded, she struggled to 
catch her balance and stumbled to one knee. Hands dragged her 
back up. Without waiting for another movement from her, they 
began to pull her forward. Amy struggled, struck at the hand holding 
her, she was still too exhausted from her fight with the creature. 
There was no choice but walk with them or fall 


She risked peeking one eye open. At first, all she saw was a faint 
blur under the brightness. Slowly, that focused into a tile floor. She 
opened the eye the rest of the way and peered around. There were 
three guards with her, all dressed in identical grey uniforms. The one 
dragging her by the shoulder had the kind of bulk typically found 
only in bodybuilding competitions. Moving her barely seemed to be 
taking him less effort than dragging a suitcase. 


The hallway they walked through was so similar to that of the last 
Site she had been kept at— sterile white walls, featureless tiling, 
silver doors— that if it weren’t for the signs labeling it otherwise, she 
would have thought they were the same. The guards guided her 
through the maze of corridors, taking seemingly random lefts and 
rights, occasionally doubling back, at one point walking in a large 
loop for five cycles. She imagined it was meant to confuse her. But 
after finding her way through the shelves of the Library, memorizing 
the route was instinctive. She doubted it would do much good. If she 
was trying to escape, the last place thing she wanted was a route 
back to her cell. 


The halls shifted slightly as her group travelled. The difference was 
only in atmosphere. She felt her captors tense as they turned to 
enter one hall, relax as they departed. She saw how the flow of 
people swelled and shrank from one corridor to the next, how traffic 
could go from pushing against the walls to nonexistent after 
rounding a single corner. She heard variations in ambient noise, the 
far off sounds of lab work, testing, occasional training. Amy 
committed each detail to memory, building her mental map one line 
at a time. 


They stopped in front of a metal door identical to every other in the 
facility. As it swung open, Amy glanced at the placard on the wall. 
Procedure Room G-10. Beneath it was a block of smaller text, which 
she didn’t have time to read before the guard shoved her through 
the entrance. 


The room reminded her of her high school science lab, if it had been 
redesigned by a dominatrix. The only surfaces were polished black 
and chrome. Shelves running along the walls held equipment that 
could have been scientific tools or instruments of torture. In the 
center of the area sat several beds that looked disturbingly like 
platforms for dissection. 


Another set of guards was already in the room. Between them stood 
a boy who couldn't have been older than 14. His dark skin was 
covered in pale scars, and his black hair had been shaved to 
stubble. The pale blue jumpsuit he wore was identical to Amy’s in 
everything but size and the number printed on its breast. He looked 
away as Amy entered the room. 


Rows of lights flickered to life along the ceiling as the door slammed 
shut behind her. The guard released her shoulder and yawned. 
Across the room, one of the Warden’s guardians leaned in to 
whisper something to his partner. They both chuckled. 


With as little movement as possible, Amy tested her handcuffs. The 
chain linking them wasn’t longer than her pinky finger, but she could 
tell it was strong. Two thin wires snaked between the links. They 
probably functioned under the same principle as the collar. She saw 
identical shackles on the neck and wrists of the boy. 


There was an opportunity here, but it would be like trying to throw a 
bullseye while swinging upside down. If she didn’t time everything 
exactly right, if the guards were a bit too quick on the uptake, if her 
calculations were just a bit off... well, she’d just end up back in the 
cell. Or dead, she supposed, but that wasn’t the way these people 
operated. She doubted they would kill her until she forced their 
hand. 


Behind her, she heard the door open, and a pair of footsteps enter 
the room. A man stepped into her vision, a tall, dark-haired doctor 
she’d never seen before. He posted himself between the two sets of 
guards. He stared at the wall in front of him, as if thinking, but Amy 
couldn’t shake the feeling that he was perfectly focused on her. 


“There’s been a lot of discussion about what to do with you,” he 
said. He paused, as if waiting for a response. When the room stayed 
silent he continued, “Especially you, 4521.” He pointed at Amy 
without looking at her. “Several people thought the project should be 
scrapped. That trying to utilize two humanoid objects, especially 
ones who had been so... damaging to our organization was 
foolhardy. | disagreed.” 


Amy glanced at the guards. They only seemed to be half-paying 
attention to the speech. The one who'd dragged her through the 
halls was standing with his arms crossed, eyes seemingly 
unfocused. She tried shifting in place slightly. He had his arm in his 
grip before she was even aware he had moved, his brown eyes 
staring into her. He glared at her for a moment, then dropped his 
grip and resumed his stance. 


The doctor’s eyes glittered above his smile. “We've had... 
unfortunate results from utilizing the anomalous in the past. It’s 
understandable that so few are willing to entertain the idea. They 
don’t realize the nature of this war is changing. To leave you locked 
in a cell would be a waste.” 


He walked forward until he was inches away from her. Amy fought 
the instinct to step back. She hadn't realized it when he was on the 
other side of the room, but he towered over everyone else. The 
labcoat he wore looked so tight it might burst. His arms, hanging by 
his side, almost touched his knees. “So. Will you help save the 


Foundation?” 


Just like that, all resistance left her. It was like being slapped in her 
face. Amy blinked. Once. Twice. Played the words back in her head. 
Looked for the hidden meaning. There had to be something, right? 
Because just taking the question at face value... it was ludicrous. 
They’d held her captive for years. Chased her through entire 
universes. Threatened her family. And now they were offering her a 
job? She struggled to think of a reply, but could only come up with 
“Are you fucking serious?” 


“Entirely.” He gestured behind him, to where the boy stood. “The 
Warden has already accepted our offer.” 


Amy looked over at the boy. He looked away, expression 
unreadable. 


“What happens if | don’t?” she said. “You throw me back in the cell?” 


“Yes,” said the doctor. “But if you do accept, we'll give you new 
quarters. Not a cell. You'll be free to roam the site as you please, 
with most of the privileges of a normal human agent. Full use of site 
facilities. Training with a Mobile Task Force. Just to start.” His voice 
rose with excitement as he spoke. “Prove yourself sufficiently, and 
we may even allow you off-site privileges. Do enough for us and you 
may see your family.” 


Amy jolted back. Her expression must have changed when he said 
that, because he almost seemed to pounce forward. 


“They'll be rewarded for your work, of course. Enough to live 
comfortably for the rest of their lives. Provide for your brother's 
schooling. Ensure your parents never have to work again, if they 
don’t wish to. All you need to do is say yes.” 


Amy swallowed. It felt like someone had shoved sand down her 
throat. “What if | don’t believe you?” 


The doctor shrugged. “Your only other choice is the cell. And the 
next time we put you in, you don’t come out. We'll keep you alive, 
don’t worry about that. We'll lock you in the dark and extract every 


scrap of data that we can. And when that’s finished, we'll forget 
about you. Keep you in the dark so long you'll forget what it is to see 
light. Believe that.” 


“Oh,” said Amy. A feeling of revulsion rose in her. The thought of 
working with these people, helping them in any way... She thought 
back to the testing they’d done on her for years, the slaughter of the 
Warden’s village, the fear those in the Library spoke of them with. 
Being a part of that? In any way? It would be selling her soul. 


And then she thought of the cell. Of going back into the dark. 
“What do | have to do?” 


« ... And When They Catch You They Will Kill You... | Hub | » 


Old Man in the Sea Hub 


Far away from the light and sound of the city, a lone man 
on an island of steel and glass stands and looks through 
a great telescope. He wonders, wonders about the great 
many things that reside in the night sky, of the stars and 
space in between. He wonders about the great many 
things about which he used to wonder, about the falling 
stars and the sometimes-stars and the stars that were 
always moving. He wonders, watching as a small little 
speck of light shifts slightly, flickering out and 
reappearing in the blink of an eye. He had wondered 
once, as a child, why some of the great bright stars 
twinkled in the night sky. And now, he wonders again. 


Deep below the island of hard metal that floats heavily on the 
waves, a fallen star stirs in its slumber. 


Within the star, a people rises. 


And from without the star, a new life bursts forth. 


Genesis 


Shadow in the Wake 
Interlude - Drift 
Eden 
Antediluvian 
Parting 
Interlude - Put to the Beach 
Rising Tide 
Under the Sea 
As Time Draws Near 
Strange Things Happen At Sea 


The Canon 


SCP-169, the Leviathan, is a member of a species of 
gargantuan, space-dwelling arthropods. These creatures 
possess within them massive, empty chambers, 
brimming with the seeds of life: strange stones and 
vegetation, breathable air, and bio-luminescent lighting. 
The amount of chambers each creature has, and exactly 
how each looks, varies from member to member. 
However, once they reach the end of their life cycle, 
these creatures will beach themselves on planets, where 
life will slowly start to form within them and be released 
once the creature expires. 


Our particular series, Genesis, covers the life of 
SCP-169 from the beginning of its life to its coming days. 
However, anybody is allowed to make their own series of 
tales within the Old Man in the Sea canon. Should you 
wish to add something to Genesis, please contact 
Roget about doing so. 


Elements of the Canon 


There are many different aspects to the canon, each of 
which you can use and add to once your tale sticks. 
These elements include: 


SCP-169 - "Levi" 


SCP-169 is a wise, calm observer of the world around it. 
It doesn't know much about the world outside of the 
ocean, but it has seen many things within the depths, 
natural and otherwise. It likes to think of itself as one 
observing art move - as such, it thinks of life on Earth 
less as equal, intelligent creatures, but as living portraits. 
It does fear its death, and still has apprehensions about 
the requirements for giving ‘birth’ to its brood, although it 
ultimately tries to fool itself into being happy for them.