2.10.1.3 — Mission: Intuitive informational entities are 
frequently sustained only by their singular dedication to 
personal directives that, left unfinished in life, are 
impossible to complete in death. The Identity Warrior 
draws strength from a more sophisticated version of the 
same idea: dedication to the core missions of Mobile 
Task Force Omega-Zero and of the Foundation. So long 
as these objectives remain relevant, the world still has 
need of the Identity Warrior, and the dedicated Identity 
Warrior remains bound to the world. 


— Identity Warfare Training Field Manual-01: Basic 
Techniques 


Manifestation Log — Operation Fisher King 


Teams: Wraiths Four, Seven and Nine 
Roster: 


¢ Wraith-4: MacLaughlin, Andrew (Field Memeticist); 
Vasilev, Pyotr (Quick-Space Manipulation 
Specialist) 

¢ Wraith-7: Desai, Santosh (Identity Defense 
Specialist); Cooper, Riley (Quick-Space 
Manipulation Specialist) 

¢ Wraith-9: Barnes, Samuel (Identity Offense 


Specialist); Barnes, Tanya (Identity Defense 
Specialist) 


Briefing: 

Foundation Antimemetics Division researcher and 
containment architect Dr. Bartholomew Hughes went 
missing in late 2008. Officially he was reported dead, of 
unknown anomalous causes. Research into the death of 
Hughes was frustrated by the "contagious murder" 
phenomenon, in which personnel who were close to 
understanding what happened to Hughes would also die 
or go missing. We now recognize this as typical of 
SCP-3125 attacks on unsecured living memeomes that 
contained information about itself. 


While we can count among us 47 saints who died as a 
result of the contagious murder of Bart Hughes, in all 
cases they lost key information related to their recent 
research to dethreading damage incurred during their 
transition. 


Information regarding Hughes' activities in the period 
leading up to his disappearance has been nearly entirely 
expunged from the Foundation with a level of operational 
secrecy exceeding all known Thaumiel Class projects. 
Saints who believe they had predeceased contact with 
him during that period were apparently exposed to 
extremely effective memetic editing techniques, and 
even in death are unable to recall many specifics. During 
that time Hughes lived and worked entirely in memetic 
isolation chambers and therefore went unobserved by 
MTF -0. 


Additionally, significant Foundation resources cannot be 
accounted for during this period, and even the Level 4 
black accountants that report directly to O5 Command 
appear to be selectively unaware of these discrepancies. 


Due to intelligence gathered during Operation Cold City, 
we have reason to believe that Hughes had developed a 
plan to oppose the incursion into our noosphere, and that 


Director Wheeler had learned this in the Site-41 Vegas 
Room prior to her death and the loss of Site-41. 


Composite intelligence from what sources we do have 
suggests the following: 


¢ Hughes may be dead, or he may be in hiding. 

* If he is dead, he is not among us. 

* If hiding, he has successfully hidden himself from 
us, which means he was able to evade SCP-3125 
as well. 

¢ Hughes was aware of SCP-3125 and had 
constructed the Site-41 Vegas Room in order to 
safely brief others on what he knew. 

¢ Our Specter teams' best theoretical 

reconstructions of what Hughes may have been 

working on would require a large, multi-year, 
extremely expensive project. 

Hughes’ disappearance may be a sign that he was 

moving from a theoretical stage into the 

construction of a prototype. 

Personnel who went missing while looking for 

Hughes may have found him and are currently 

assisting this project. 


Director Wheeler died believing that Hughes had left 
something for her to use, something that would win this 
war. 


Therefore it has become imperative that Task Force 
Omega-Zero ("Ara Orun") ascertain the status of Dr. 
Hughes, determine if he is quick or dead, and attempt to 
locate him or failing that, his research. To this end, 
Wraith Teams Four, Seven and Nine are hereby directed 
to conduct the search for Hughes. Report directly to 
Manes-1 for this operation. 


You have broad discretion to carry out this directive as 
you see fit, and are expected to thoroughly investigate 
any avenues you deem appropriate to the fullest extent 
possible. In the event communication with command is 


lost due to enemy action you are to continue the search. 
If you do succeed in your mission, you are to render 
Hughes any and all support within your capacity while 
awaiting further instruction. 


Team leaders are to coordinate and designate initial 
target sites. Your manifestation, code named "Operation 
Fisher King" is prepped and awaiting insertion, on your 
orders. 


Remember: We are the saints who guard, 
— Amos Sanchez, Operations Director, MTF w-0 


O—O 


A portion of each floor of the futurist-organic-style cabin spiraled out 
over open water. On the spacious covered third story deck, Sarah 
Hughes, Mobile Task Force Tau-5 ("Samsara") 
commander, sipped her coffee. She looked out through the wire 
screen onto the pond. There, Chen instructed Onru and Munru on 
how to fish from a canoe, all three of them laughing in the sun. All 
the way from the ground floor kitchen she could smell some 
delicious Kurdish dish that Ghazi was teaching to Irantu. Nanku was 
sitting on a couch a couple of meters away. The Specialist 
concentrated intensely as she painted a watercolor duck. Hughes 
wondered, not for the first time, if this was really any different from 
having a family. 


"Captain Hughes?" asked Nanku, having stood up, suddenly alert. 
"Yes, Specialist?" 

"Someone is coming." 

"Explain" ordered Hughes as they took the stairs to the second floor. 


"| believe it is an extrasensory perception, legacy of my cell line. | 
feel someone searching nearby, and whenever their awareness 
touches mine | know. There is a mind gazing at us, a mind without 
body." 


"What is it searching for?" 
"| think, it is for you, ma'am." 


The stairs let out into a landing with a large bay window overlooking 
the water, framed by the white ultra-toughened alloy walls. Opposite 
the window, doors led to the three bedrooms and to the bath. 
Captain Hughes knocked on one of the doors and opened it. 
"Campos, get your people up and standby for action. | want 
weapons squad on overwatch on the upper deck as soon as 
possible." 


Sergeant Juan Campos grunted assent. He switched on his bunk 
lamp and swung his legs onto the floor as she closed the door. 


On the ground floor, the spacious living area was empty. Nanku 
grabbed her massive battle rifle from the weapons rack. Sergeant 
lrantu stalked out of the kitchen, calm but poised, arms in a guard 
position and ready for a fight. Right behind him came Sergeant 
Nazgul Ghazi, who was on a handheld radio and getting reports 
from the duty watch stations. 


O—O 


Specialist Aaron Quinn was on road guard duty watching a car 
approach that had no business being there. It was a black Ford 
Explorer, with tinted windows, and it looked like a rental. Quinn 
flagged it down, and it rolled up to a stop, the window rolled down 
and he looked in at four people. A young man and woman sat in the 
back, mid-20s, and an older pair up front, probably in their 50s, all of 
them white and wearing conservative Sunday church clothes. The 
woman in the passenger seat smelled of cheap perfume, and the 
car as a whole smelled like incense. 


"Ma'am, this is a restricted area, | am going to have to ask you to 
return to the guardhouse the way you came." 


"Now honey, we don't need to do that, we are exactly where we are 
supposed to be be." 


"Appointed," said the others in unison. 


"And you are going to let us slide right on, brother. We bring a 
message you are to hear," and then she told him. 


QA—Q 
"Report," ordered Hughes. 


"Ma'am, we can... sense... an entity is now present," answered by 
lrantu as he cocked his head to the side, listening for something. 


Nanku shook her head. "Two entities." 
"Are they hostile?" 


"No ma'am, | don't think so," Irantu said as Nanku shook her head 
again, "They seem to be... trapped?" 


There was a loud creaking from the walls. "Not surprising, 
Sergeant," said Hughes, "my brother designed this house." 


Q—O 
Manifestation Log: Operation Fisher King (Wraith Team Seven): 


Cooper: No use, | can't shift or break any of it. This 
place is locked down tight. 


Desai: And | still can't connect to my anchor. 
Cooper: Don't look at me, my best CS is 4.52. 


Desai: Yeah, let's take a break and then maybe we can 
work together and crack a window or something. 


Cooper: I'm fairly sure that | could throw a car, and we 
are struggling to maybe crack a window. This is one hell 
of a cage. 


Desai: Well Hughes was the guy for containment 
architecture for informational anomalies. 


Cooper: Yeah... 


Cooper: That's a sobering thought. We are just a couple 
of informational anomalies now. Santosh, do you ever 
wonder if you are really Santosh Desai? Or are you just 
a construct generated from your Dad's memory that filled 
the void in the noosphere left when you... he... 
whatever... nuked yourself? 


Desai: Ah yes, the copy question. You know, sooner or 
later every saint asks this. 


Cooper: And? 
Desai: Well, | definitely remember stuff that only | knew. 


Cooper: You think you do anyway, you know as well as | 
do that expertly constructed memories are 
indistinguishable from the real thing. 


Desai: Ouch. That's something | didn't want to think 
about. 


<manifesting: lrantu> 
Cooper: Whoa! 
lrantu: Who goes there? 


Desai: | feel like | should ask you the same thing. I'm 
Saint Santosh Desai, Mobile Task Force Omega-Zero 
("Ara Orun"), and this is Saint Riley Cooper. How did you 
get in here? 


Irantu: | am Sgt. lrantu of Mobile Task Tau-5 
("Samsara"). This iteration is a neural clone of my most 
recent backup scan, running in simulation mode. 


Desai: Normally you need to be, well, dead to even see 
this manifestation. 


lrantu: | have been dead 47 times. Perhaps that is 


SCP-585 works best on thin cylinders of wood cored with graphite. 
SCP-585 will also function with other easily shave-able materials 
such as plastic or paper cored with graphite, or with a pure graphite 
stick. Pure wood or plastic does not produce the effect, nor does any 
material that cannot be shaved by an ordinary pencil sharpener. 


SCP-585-1-4 were recovered from an elementary schoolin after 
[DATA EXPUNGED]. 


Incident 585-1: A standard HB pencil, never used, was chosen for 
extended testing of SCP-585-1. Pencil is now designated SCP-585- 
a. 


- After twenty (20) clockwise rotations in the small hole of SCP-585, 
SCP-585-a was applied to a sheet of paper. Functioned as a normal 
pencil 


- After thirty (30) rotations, SCP-585-a was confirmed capable of 
piercing steel. A sheet of paper was sliced in half by the point. 


- After forty (40) rotations, SCP-585-a was attached to a string and 
dropped from one (1) meter’s height onto bedrock. SCP-585-a 
penetrated 0.5 meters. 


- After fifty (50) rotations, the same test as above was performed. 
SCP-585-a penetrated five (5) meters of bedrock. 


- After sixty (60) rotations, SCP-585-a penetrated fifty (50) meters of 
bedrock. 


Testing continued until at exactly one hundred (100) rotations, 
SCP-585-a’s tip began radiating extreme heat, causing its wooden 
component to burst into flames. Further testing on the graphite core 
[DATA EXPUNGED]. The item was deemed too high of a risk to 
keep, considering that another could be easily created, and 
SCP-585-a was inserted into the large hole of SCP-585-1. The 
extreme heat caused SCP-585-1 to melt. SCP-585-a placed in a 
vacuum flask for storage. 


« SCP-584 | SCP-585 | SCP-586 » 


enough? 


Desai: Yeah, | guess you have at that. We are here are 
on a mission. 


lrantu: Can | assist you? 
Desai: What do you think, Riley? 


Cooper: It's my expert opinion that we are stuck. We 
might as well tell him why we are here and see if he can 
help. 


Desai: Agreed, he is level three and we aren't getting 
anywhere otherwise. Sgt. Irantu, | am reading you into 
the following codenames: SCP-2111, READ THIS, and 
Operation FISHER KING. Do you acknowledge that you 
will not share the information you are about to receive 
with any unauthorized persons, and that you are aware 
of the penalties for mishandling classified intelligence? 


Irantu: Of course. 


Desai: Allright, the short version is Cooper and | are 
ghosts. We died in the line of duty, but never stopped 
working for the Foundation. 


Desai: Our mission is to find Dr. Bart Hughes. Hughes 
went missing years ago, and all the information about 
that was so heavily expunged that even we don't have 
access to it. If Hughes had died we would expect him to 
be entangled with your CO, his sister, in a way that we 
could track. If alive, we were hoping she knows 
something and we have ways of finding that out too. 
Except we got trapped in this house, which is like aa 
Farraday cage for free memes like us. Can you help us? 


lrantu: Yes, | can, once | reintegrate with my current 
self-stream. 


Desai: Thank you, Sergeant. 


lrantu: Cooper, there is no difference. 
Cooper: Huh? 


lrantu: You wonder if you are a copy or Riley Cooper. 
There is no difference. | am a copy. | am Irantu. Identity 
and authenticity are not equivalents. 


Cooper: Huh. ... | think that helps. Thanks! 
<demanifesting: lrantu> 
O—O 


On the ground floor, Corporal Zabek disconnected the feed from 
lrantu's neural shunt. The Sergeant regained consciousness, stood, 
and quickly opened a window. 


"Report" ordered Hughes, "Wait, belay that, there's a vehicle 
coming." 


Outside, the Explorer rolled up the dirt road. Staff Sergeant Arthur 
Chen, Corporal Munro and Specialist Onru beached the canoe. 


"Ma'am," Sergeant Ghazi said, as she readied her carbine, "My road 
guards just tried to send me something that the coghaz filters killed." 


"Understood Sergeant. Order the rest of the watch to keep their 
distance and report to MTF command if they think we are 
compromised." 


"Roger that." 


"Irantu, no time for a prepared defense. Rally your squad, and 
assault through on my signal." 


"Yes, ma'am." 


The SUV rolled to a stop in front of the cabin and the passengers 
got out. 


The older woman looked up the walk. Hughes stood behind the 


partially open airlock door with her sidearm ready and concealed. 


"Good morning, honey," the woman said. She smiled broadly and 
squinted into the light. 


"Have you hea 


Hughes shot her. 


Samsara squad's assault was swift and violent. The two other 
passengers were down almost as a quickly as the woman was. The 
driver managed to grab the machine pistol from under his seat, but 
didn't make it any further. 


Under cover from the cabin, the four Samsara troopers duck walked 
through the killing ground. Nanku and Munru sliced the pie from 
opposite ends of the vehicle, and around the far side. 


"Clear!" 
"Clear!" 
"Wait," said Onru, "There's still something here." 


Smoke swiftly spiraled up from the open mouths of the corpses. It 
formed a cloud of free memes so dense that the three dimensional 
shadow of the fifth dimensional structure was visible to the naked 
eye. The cloud hovered for a moment and then descended on the 
four Samsara troopers.