Phase 3 is characterized by attempts to live a "normal" 
life. The subject will continue in normal routines, and 
aside from necessary precautions to prevent losing 
control, will utilize their abilities only in private, and only 
in a manner that will not harm others. These Type 
Greens may be classified as Threat Level 1 (monitor, do 
not engage), but should be monitored closely, due to the 
risk of proceeding to Phase 4. 


"I'm going to just ask you one last question." 

"Sure." 

"How did you feel when you raped Angela Flaherty?" 
"What? | never raped her!" 

"Yes, you did." 

"| didn't! She said yes!" 


"She had no choice BUT to say yes! And you abused it, you forced 
her to..." 


"SHUT UP! SHE LOVES ME!" 


"She doesn't love you. How could anyone love you? You're a fucked 
up emo kid who abused his fucked up emo powers to make a bunch 
of women spread their legs for you against their will. You murdered 
a thousand people because you couldn't deal with your whore of a 
mom dying. You're a lousy, murdering, raping..." 


"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I'LL KILL YOU!" 


<sound of breaking glass> 
"What the hell... butterflies?" 
"Sorry, kiddo. Game over." 


<Explosive Decompression> 


From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


PHASE 4: The Child-God Sadly, the majority of Type 
Greens will end at Phase 4. During this phase, the reality 
bender becomes obsessed with the power it possesses 
and will attempt to utilize it for personal gain at the cost 
of others. This phase is marked by reduced empathy for 
other humans, inability to accept personal faults, and 
increased megalomania. 


Although warning signs are numerous, the key aspect of 
a Phase 4 is the use of their abilities to manipulate other 
humans. Teenage and young adult Type Greens will 
typically use their abilities for sexual purposes, while 
children will attempt to make strangers their "friends." 
Older adults may attempt to manipulate others for love or 
financial gain. Although a few cases have resulted where 
the Type Green then reverts to Phase 3, 99% of them 
will remain at Phase 4 until eliminated. For this reason, 
Phase 4 Type Greens should be considered Threat 
Level 5 (Immediate Threat) and eliminated immediately. 


Operation: Spoil the Rod 


Proposal: SCP-120 is to be dialed to Location 9. The Entry Zone is 
to be converted to a temporary holding facility, made of thin glass. 
The structure will be air-tight, but designed to shatter and expose all 
contents to vacuum in the event of any violence. All personnel are to 
be evacuated to a radius of 2 miles from the Entry Zone for their 
own safety in the event that SCP-—531 becomes violent. 


Dr. Clef will engage SCP-531 and make an initial assessment under 
cover from SCP-408, while two members of Task Force Sigma 6 
("Puddlejumpers") relocate the calibrated SCP-120 to a location 
within SCP-531's quarters. Once in place, Dr. Clef will begin the 
operation by changing the music to Elvis Presley's "You Ain't Nothin 
But a Hound Dog." The CD will have been previously altered with 
two subliminal tracks: the first, a recording of SCP-061 to render the 
subject susceptible to suggestion. The second, a command to fall 
asleep immediately, allowing personnel to transport SCP-531 and 
Dr. Clef to Location 9, through SCP-120. 


Upon arriving at Location 9, Dr. Kondraki will continue, through 
SCP-408, to maintain the illusion that the subject is still in his 
quarters, while Dr. Clef continues his assessment. If Dr. Clef should 
determine that the subject must be terminated, he will indicate this 
by standing up and talking about the subject's XBox. This is 
SCP-408's cue to take over emulating Dr. Clef while said Dr. Clef 
proceeds out of the kill zone and to a safe distance. Once all 
personnel are outside the 2 mile kill zone, explosive charges will be 
detonated in the glass structure and expose SCP-531 to space, 
killing it. Should explosive decompression prove ineffective, snipers 
will be in position from a 2 mile distance to terminate SCP-531 by 
headshot. 


Note that a successful termination of SCP-531 will result in the loss 
of a significant portion of the 408 swarm: 300 gallons of sugar water 
will be provided to the surviving members to encourage regrowth 
and as payment for its cooperation. In addition, it is recommended 
that Dr. Clef utilize some means of distraction in order to keep 
SCP-531 off-balance while the kill zone is being established. 


APPROVED by O5-7 on - - 


From the Global Occult Coalition's Pamphlet, "Special 
Circumstances: Reality Benders." 


Any attempt to eliminate a Type Green must take into 
consideration the three factors for Dynamic Entry in 
close quarter battle. 


escapes utilizing a bug found in the dungeon room that allows the 
player to walk through walls, the player has no monsters to use. Ina 
non-affected cartridge, the game simply crashes after exiting the 
area. However, in an affected cartridge, the next battle encounter 
will introduce an instance of SCP-951 in the players party. 


SCP-951 (nicknamed "LUCAS" in game) does not have a defined 
figure, instead displaying as a block of randomized pixels. Despite 
this, SCP-951 functions like a regular monster, utilizing special skills 
from the movesets of other monsters in the game during battles. At 
specific scripted points of the game wherein the character "Hirago" 
is meant to have dialogue, SCP-951 replaces the character's 
dialogue with mostly garbled text, though recognizable words such 
as "friend" and "play" have been observed. Repeated tests of these 
scripted events have shown that dialogue displayed changes with 
each play through. 


Continued use of SCP-951 will cause other bugs to occur within the 
game, including: 


¢ Player item count fluctuating during battles, often providing 
4-6 extra items at any given moment. 
¢ Enemy characters randomly being defeated without ever 
being interacted with. This is limited specifically to random 
encounters; scripted boss monsters are not affected. 
Graphical and interactivity errors of nonessential sections of 
the game (e.g. houses that do nothing to further the story of 
the game becoming inaccessible). 
Average experience bonus from defeating monsters 
significantly increased, often giving 2 to 3 times more 
experience than normal. 


Outside of scripted dialogue encounters, SCP-951 has displayed the 
ability to communicate with personnel through the use of dialog 
boxes that appear onscreen outside of battles, understanding 
vocalizations of researchers. Text displayed within these boxes is 
much clearer, and SCP-951 appears to be very friendly when 
communicating, often suggesting methods of working through the 
game quickly and effectively. 


As the game progresses, SCP-951 continues to increase in power 


Speed: Type Greens are able to quickly react to any 
threat. In order to ensure a successful kill, the operation 
must take no longer than one second from initiation of 
hostilities to termination of subject. 


Surprise: Type Greens are able to quickly adapt to 
known threats. It is recommended that a bluff play be 
carried out: an overt threat is to be presented to the 
subject for them to fixate upon, while the actual kill is 
carried out from an unexpected direction. 


Violence of Action: Any means of eliminating a Type 
Green must ensure a successful kill in one shot. Sniper 
weapons must utilize .50 caliber rounds, preferably 
hollow-point for maximum expansion, or armor-piercing, 
as needed. Firearms are, of course, a secondary kill 
choice: explosives are recommended, but may not be 
usable due to collatoral damage risks. 


"Interesting how life goes. Forty-eight hours ago, | was a 
quadriplegic. Now I'm drinking beer on the moon." 

"Too right." 

"To five-thirty-one: may he rest in pieces." 

"Amen." 

<sound of beers opening> 

"Hey, Clef." 

"Yeah?" 


"So, now that we've both tried to kill each other, and then worked 
together to kill someone else, that kinda makes us buddies, right?" 


"| guess. Why?" 


"I'm wondering something... what are you, anyway?" 


"Me?" 


"| Know you're ex-GOC, but no one can take down that many SCPs 
alone. No human. And you're almost immune to reality shifters 
yourself. So what are you?" 


"... I'm actually one of them." 
"... areality shifter?" 


"Yeah. | first found out about my powers when | blew up the Space 
Shuttle Challenger. All those people dead... just because some kid 
wondered what it would be like if the shuttle blew up." 


"God..." 


"Yeah, after that | figured | should lock my powers away. | swore 
only to use it to stop other shifters, the ones who screw it up for the 
rest of us. The dangerous ones." 


"That's intense, man." 


"Yeah. So | joined the GOC and learned to use my powers to protect 
myself. | can stop any other reality shifter from using their powers on 
me, and | can even ride the wave of the change, kinda like a surfer. 
That's why 166 can't control me, and why 531 couldn't kill me earlier. 
I'm kind of the anti-reality shifter. An antibody against that disease." 


"That's... really deep. Hang on... let me get something." 
"What?" 
"A shovel to scoop up the bullshit you're feeding me." 


"Hah! Touche! | think this might be the beginning of a beautiful 
friendship." 


"Nah. But tell you what. If you don't shoot me in the leg again | 
promise not to break your neck any more." 


"Deal." 


Text of a Condolence Letter - Federal Bureau of 
Investigation, Unusual Incidents Unit 


[INSERT OFFICIAL FBI LETTERHEAD HERE] 


Federal Bureau of Investigation 
United States Department of Justice 
Washington, DC. 

[DATE] 


Dear [RECIPIENT], 


| am writing to you today to express my great sorrow for 
the loss of your [RELATION], [DECEASED]. 
[DECEASED] was killed honorably in the line of duty on 
[DATE], while attempting to save the life of an innocent 
held hostage by an unknown attacker. The loss of an 
officer is always a great tragedy, but it is especially hard 
when an officer was as close to us as your [RELATION]. 
[ENTER SOME WORDS OF PRAISE HERE]. 


| know you must be overwhelmed with letters of 
condolence, and the pressure of making arrangements 
must be terrible, so please do not feel obligated to 
respond. However, if there is anything | can do to help 
you, it would be a great honor to assist the [RELATION 
TO DECEASED] of one of the Federal Bureau of 
Investigation's finest officers. 


Sincerely yours, 


Charles Ogden Geirs 
Assistant Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation 
Unusual Incidents Unit 


Jack - Please don't repeat the mistake your predecessor made last 
time and send this without filling out the fields first. The last thing | 


need is six grieving widows throwing a fit because they got a form 
letter from their dead husband's boss. 


- Cog 


Thank You For Your Time 


Doctor Braddock nervously walked to the table where the guard 
guided him. He'd never been in such an elegant club before, and felt 
terribly out of place. His clothing was rumpled, his long black hair 
mussed, and his eyes red. 


"Thank you for meeting me on such short notice," he said as he sat 
down. 


"No trouble at all, sir. Thank you for your time," said the suave man 
in the business suit, as he shook Braddock's hand. He smiled 

broadly, showing off perfect teeth. He was in stark contrast with the 
researcher, not a single hair on his wavy blond coiffure out of place. 


"I've... thought about your offer," said Braddock. 
"And?" The other man raised a neat, trimmed eyebrow. 


"Well..." Braddock trailed off. "| think I'd like more information. Your 
e-mail was, well, a bit vague." 


"Of course," the man said. "Now, we're not asking a lot. Certainly 
nothing your... employer will miss. Just a few knick-knacks. Odds 
and ends. We'd be willing to pay handsomely." 


"| think | could do that," Braddock said slowly. "| need money awfully 
badly, Mister..?" 


"| think it's best if we keep things on a first-name basis, Jim," the 
man said smoothly. "Call me Jeremy." 


Braddock nodded. He was already feeling much more at ease. "All 
right, Jeremy. Ah, did you bring any money with you?" 


"Of course, of course. Just a little up front, to help with those little 
costs." Jeremy handed Braddock an envelope. "My... associates 
understand how sometimes, the cards just aren't with you." 


"Thank you, thank you so much," Braddock said, nearly crying. 


"There, there," Jeremy said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now it's 
time for drinks. What's your pleasure? I'm buying." 


Braddock made his way to the familiar table. This was his fourth 
visit. The second time he'd brought something with him. 


"Ah, Jim, glad you could join me. Please, sit." Jeremy stood to shake 
his hand. "Tell me, how are the races?" 


"Not bad. | won a hundred dollars yesterday," Braddock said as he 
sat down, failing to mention that he'd lost twice that in other bets. 


"Glad to hear it, glad to hear it. Now, what have you got for us this 
time?" Jeremy leaned forward in his seat expectantly. 


Braddock looked around nervously. 


"Don't worry, Jim. We're among friends." Jeremy touched 
Braddock's hand reassuringly. 


"All right." Braddock reached into his suitcase. He pulled out a 
leather jacket. "| reported this destroyed this morning. | was 
supposed to put it in the incinerator. But don't worry. | gota 
substitute. No one knows it's gone." 


"That's great, Jim. Very clever," said Jeremy. "Now, what does it 
do?" 


"Wearing this lets you breathe underwater," he explained. "Just 
make sure it's zipped up all the way." 


"That's great, Jim," said Jeremy. "| know someone who'd just love 
something like this." Jeremy put it into a much fancier leather 
briefcase. "And here's your money, as promised.” He pulled out the 
now-familiar envelope. Braddock took it from his hands eagerly, and 
took a swift intake of breath when he looked inside. 


"This means a lot to me," Braddock said as they shook hands again. 


"| Know," Jeremy said. "I know." 


It had been eight years since Braddock had met Jeremy, and he'd 
changed a great deal in that time. He had a higher-paying position in 
the Foundation now, and his graying hair lent him an air of authority 
he'd lacked. And yet, the money still seemed to slip away. At least 
he had a good, steady, secondary source of money. 


"Jim!" Jeremy gave him a warm handshake. He looked the same as 
he had eight years ago. 


They sat down at the club's bar. Braddock pulled out his latest 
acquisition. 


lt was a black sleep mask, kept sealed in a plastic baggy. 
"Looks interesting," Jeremy said. "What does this one do?" 


"Ah. Yes." Braddock coughed. "When worn, the wearer experiences 
extremely, well, erotic dreams. Full sensory perception. But of 
rather... kinky sorts of sex." 


"| see." Jeremy's blue eyes lit up with humor. "Have you tried it out?" 


"|... Yes. Once." Braddock's cheesed flushed. "I... found it more 
disorienting than anything else. But the D-Cla— That is, the test 
subjects found it rather addictive after a time." 


"Hmm. Yes, | think this will do nicely. Well done, Jim." Jeremy took 
the plastic baggy from Braddock and placed it into a velvet-lined 
box. 


"| should warn you. If it's used long enough, the subjects... Well, 
they die." Braddock looked even more embarrassed. 


"How extraordinary. What of?" Jeremy asked. 


"Er, auto-erotic asphyxiation," Braddock said, his blush crawling up 
his face. 


"Well, I'll be sure that it doesn't get put into the, ah, wrong hands," 


Jeremy said. 


"Getting it wasn't easy," said Braddock, a trifle glumly. "They wanted 
to test it. | had to make it look like it was destroyed in an accident."