Marks keys the 1MC, triggering the station-wide 


Chapter 5: The Rebellion as Sacrificial 
Dagger 


... and the iron of the sea must further be 
enshrined in a house of barbs, itself built ona 
foundation of transgression and spite. The iron 
is to be wrought as a lion, coated with the dust 
of a generation's graves. Ornamented walls 
are to be erected around it, clad in old grudges 
and shared purpose. 


Rites must be observed in the house of the 
iron omphalos. The blood of the father is to be 
spilled in equal parts with the blood of the 
mother. The water of the earth is to be cast 
into the void of the sky. Emptiness is to be 
matched with emptiness, until there is naught 
but void within the seven walls. Emptiness 
within will be matched by emptiness without, a 
blade bared against all things. 


To understand which ritual practices are most 
compatible with an organization arranged in 
this symbol, we turn to the characterization 
process outlined in... 


Chapter 8: The Learned as Twined Focus 


... but all flows must end, of course. The flow 
of water from peak to ocean. The flow of 
knowledge from book to mind. The flow of 
power from font to focus. To hold and focus 
the flow, a proper vessel must be constructed. 
A cup holds only as much as it is able, after all. 
A cauldron of any size will overflow in time. 
Seekers of the pinnacle must thus create a 
bowl with no bottom, following the path of 
Adeimanthos and accomplishing his feat 
anew. 


To craft such a bowl, one will need at least two 


intercom. 


MARKS (CONT’D): 

This is Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Marks of 
Mobile Task Force Omega Four, calling from the 
Docking Area. We are here investigating a cessation of 
communications. Any personnel hearing this, please 
respond. 


There is silence, apart from the quiet clicking of the GQ 
light. 


REX: 

Commander, we should get to the CIC. I'll be able to 
access the station’s logs and security camera feeds. We 
need to head up two levels and over three corridors. 


MARKS: 
“Once more unto the breach.” Chief, after you. 


INT. CORRIDORS 


The team walks through long, deserted corridors. All 
sounds are mechanical: blinking GQ lights, the hiss of 
environmental systems, distant whirring and thumping of 
machinery. 


BRANDT: 
Where’s the crew? Shouldn’t there be a couple hundred 
people on this station? 


REX: 
One hundred fifty, at the moment. 


BRANDT: 

So where are they? Most containment breaches I’ve 
handled left evidence: you know, blood or whatever. And 
the couple of times I’ve fought off the Chaos Insurgency, 
they just left bodies where they fell. 


VENILIA: 


(over the 1MC) 

General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands man your 
battle stations. Up and forward to starboard, down and 
aft to port. General Quarters, General Quarters! 


MARKS: 
How much farther, Rex? 


REX: 
Next right and we're there. 


The team opens the hatch to the CIC and enters. 


INT. CIC 


The CIC is an absolute mess. An alarm klaxon is blaring. 
There are a couple small fires burning, and several 
consoles are sparking ominously. The bodies of the 
command staff lay scattered about, still smoking from 
radiation burns. LCDR HOWARD, Sector 23’s Deputy 
Director and Neptune Station’s Commander, is frantically 
moving about the room, muttering to herself. 


HOWARD: 

(muttering desperately to self) 

Section four is leaking, have to seal it off. Fires in main 
engineering and the CIC, activate fire suppression 
systems. Dammit, fire suppression systems non- 
responsive. Have to dispatch damage control crews. 
Lockdown D-Class quarters. We don’t need them 
running around. Where the hell is Lieutenant Douglas? 
Radiation warnings in the labs — crap. Evacuate those 
sections. Pressure warning in section four. Section four 
is leaking, have to seal it off. Fires in main engineering 
and the CIC, activate fire suppression systems. Dammit, 
fire suppression systems non-responsive. Have to 
dispatch damage control crews. Lockdown D-Class 
quarters. We don’t need them running around. Where 
the hell is Lieutenant Douglas? Radiation warnings in the 
labs — crap. Evacuate those sections. Pressure warning 


in section four. 


MARKS: 

Rex, Brandt, check for survivors. (to Howard) 
Commander! Commander, snap out of it! 
COMMANDER! 


HOWARD (CONT’D): 
Section four is leaking, have to—wha-what? 


MARKS: 
Commander, calm down. We’re here to help. 


HOWARD: 
Help? 


MARKS: 

Commander Howard, I’m Lieutenant Commander 
Benjamin Marks, that is Chief Petty Officer Brandt, and 
that is Doctor Rex. We’re MTF Omega Four. 


HOWARD: 
Omega Four? 


MARKS: 
That’s right, Commander. Now listen. | need you to stop, 
and breath. 


HOWARD: 
(takes a deep breath) 
Okay. 


REX: 
No survivors, sir. 


BRANDT: 
Looks like radiation burns. 


MARKS: 
Rex, start digging through the computer and see what 
you can find. 


REX: 
On it. 


MARKS (CONT’D): 
Commander Howard, | need to know what happened 
here. 


HOWARD: 

Okay. (deep breath) | was off duty, sleeping, when 
General Quarters sounded. | rushed up here to the CIC. 
Fire everywhere. Captain Wells was dead. Equipment 
exploding. Damage reports coming in. Dozens injured. 
More dead. Section four is leaking, have to seal it off. 
Fires in main engineering and the CIC, activate fire 
suppression systems. Dammit, fire suppression systems 
non-responsive. 


MARKS: 
COMMANDER! Stay with us, here. It’s okay. You can 
calm down. 


HOWARD: 
Help? 


MARKS: 
Yes. We’re here to help. 


HOWARD: 
Sorry, | just— 


MARKS: 
Commander, I’ve been there before too. 


HOWARD: 
Yeah. Anyway, | was trying to handle damage control 
when you arrived. 


REX: 
Uh, Commander? 


HOWARD & MARKS: 
Yes? 


REX: 
According to the computer logs, General Quarters was 
sounded 27 hours ago. 


BRANDT: 
| thought contact was lost a little over 16 hours ago. 


REX: 

Hey, all | know is what the computer says here. And no, 
there is no indication about why General Quarters was 
sounded. 


MARKS: 
Hm. Can you tell me why communication was lost? 


REX: 

Yes, that’s simple: the fiber-optic cables connecting to 
the mainland were cut. Don’t know why, or how, though. 
Anyway, it’s not fixable from inside, and I’m not rated on 
deep ocean salvage and repair. 


MARKS: 
Alright. Any other survivors on the station? 


REX: 

I’m looking through security camera feeds. I’m only 
seeing one other person, living or dead, on the station — 
down by the decontamination chamber leading to 
E-2157. 


MARKS: 
Commander Howard? 


HOWARD: 
That’s Dr. Kelly. She’s Sector 23’s Head of Research. 


BRANDT: 
Then there’s a good chance she knows what's going on. 


MARKS: 
Indeed. Anyone in Echo-2157? 


REX: 
| can’t tell — all computer connections to inside are non- 
responsive. ...Oh, crap. 


BRANDT: 
Doc? 


REX: 
We have a problem. 


MARKS: 
We have a lot of problems. 


REX: 

According to this, Sector 23’s Chief of Security, 
Lieutenant Douglas, ordered his men to plant a bomb 
inside E-2157. 


BRANDT: 
So? 


REX: 

The Scotia Sea has a very thin crust — it’s why there are 
so many hydrothermal vents here, and why Neptune 
Station can generate so much geothermal energy. The 
point is, there is an incredible amount of potential energy 
beneath us. If that bomb goes off, it could cause that 
energy to be released as a volcanic explosion. 


MARKS: 
So, Mount Saint Helens? 


REX: 

More like Krakatoa, actually. The volcanic explosion itself 
would be really bad, and then there’s the inevitable 
tsunami it would cause, but that’s not the worst of it. 


HOWARD: 
You’re saying that a major volcanic explosion and 
tsunami which, together, will kill thousands— 


REX: 


Tens of thousands, at least, probably more. 


HOWARD (CONT’D): 
Whatever — that isn’t the worst? 


REX: 

E-2157 is significant because of its irregular spacetime 
qualities. There’s not enough data to definitively say 
either way, but there is a very real possibility that 
dumping a massive and uncontrolled burst of energy into 
E-2157, like from, say, a large bomb or a major volcanic 
explosion, could tear a hole in the fabric of spacetime, 
which could potentially destroy an area twenty or so 
astronomical units across. As in, no more Earth, no more 
Moon, hell, no more Saturn! (beat) Like | said, we have a 
problem. 


MARKS: 
How much time do we have? 


REX: 
If we don’t disable that bomb in the next fifty-four 
minutes, we are in very serious trouble. 


Fade to music. 


ACT Ill 


+ Show Act Ill Transcript 


INT. CORRIDOR 


BRANDT: 
Commander, are you sure we should have left 
Lieutenant Commander Howard alone? 


REX: 
With most of the primary station systems offline, we’re in 


a whole range of trouble. She can help get the systems 
back online. | mean, none of these problems is quite as 
significant as the bomb in E-2157, but- 


MARKS: 
Thank you, Doctor. Chief, she'll be fine. Look sharp, 
Decon is right up ahead. 


The team finds a young woman, looking lost and 
confused. 


MARKS: 
Doctor Kelly, | presume? 


KELLY: 
Please don’t hurt me. 


MARKS: 
We're not going to hurt you; we're here to help. Doctor 
Kelly? 


KELLY: 
Is that me? 


BRANDT: 
Doctor? 


KELLY: 
What is this place? 


REX: 
Don’t you remember? 


KELLY: 
No — how did | get here? 


BRANDT: 
We can’t bring her with us. 


REX: 
We can’t leave her here. 


MARKS: 

Miss, you are Doctor Abigail Kelly, the Head of Research 
for this facility. It is a science outpost on the bottom of 
the ocean devoted to studying a dangerous object. Right 
now, there is a bomb in the object, which we have to 
disarm. Now, you can stay here in this facility, or you can 
come with us. 


KELLY: 
Please don’t leave me here alone. 


MARKS: 
Alright, then. Doctor? 


REX: 
Yes? 


MARKS: 
The door? 


REX: 
Ah, yes, right. 


He opens the sliding door. 


INT. DECONTAMINATION 
CHAMBER 


MARKS: 
Ladies first. 


They enter the decontamination chamber; the door slides 
shut behind them and locks with a click. There is a slight 
hiss as the atmosphere begins to adjust. 


VENILIA: 

You are now entering Echo Two One Five Seven. 
Special Containment Procedures and numerical 
designation pending. At present, the interior of the 
object, as well as any samples, technology, and/or 


materials removed from within the object, are to be 
considered “Euclid” class. Please observe standard 
Level 4 Containment protocols with Type A Irregular 
Spacetime procedures. The interior of the object has a 
standard nitrogen / oxygen atmosphere with an average 
temperature of two hundred eighty-nine degrees kelvin 
and an average pressure of one hundred twelve 
kilopascals. 


KELLY: 
Ow! 


VENILIA (CONT’D): 

This is in contrast to Neptune Station’s average pressure 
of two hundred two kilopascals. Alert: Personnel may 
experience minor pain in their ears as the pressure in the 
decontamination chamber equalizes. 


BRANDT: 
Now it tells us. 


VENILIA (CONT'D): 

Remember, your safety is a priority. Exercise caution 
and follow all containment procedures precisely. Sector 
Twenty-Three has gone for ...zero... days without a 
workplace fatality. Alert: pressure equalization and 
contaminant scan completed. Welcome to Echo Two 
One Five Seven. 


The hissing stops. The locks click and the door slides 
open. 


INT. OBJECT 


The inside of the object is vast. Illuminated by the dull 
blue of the chemical lamps left by the research team, the 
chamber stretches out of sight into the inky blackness. 
The team’s voices echo in the cavernous space; in the 
distance, some indeterminate sounds can be heard. 


dozen hands for its shaping. 26 will do. To 
watch it fill, one will need at least two dozen 
eyes. 26 will do. And to drink from it? A single 
mouth will do. The focus does not divert, does 
not divide. Yes, one mouth will suffice to drink 
from that bottomless bowl, so long as it is lined 
with teeth of brass and silver. 


SYSTEM NOTICE: Overseer-6, 8 items 


require your immediate attention. 


« SCP-909 | SCP-910 | SCP-911 » 


KELLY: 
Whoa. 


BRANDT: 
And | thought Mammoth Cave was big. This place is 
vast. 


MARKS: 

Definitely looks more like a cavern than a creature, 
though | suppose Jonas would have said the same about 
the whale. 


REX: 
There are actually more than a dozen chambers like this 
one. 


MARKS: 
Which way, Doctor? 


REX: 
Uh, that way. 


They head off. As they move along, they hear a voice 
echoing through the chamber. 


KELLY: 
You hear that? It sounds like there’s someone up ahead. 


REX: 
There! By that column. 


They get closer and find a man, DR. STEVENS, staring 
with empty eyes, repeating a mantra over and over. 


STEVENS: 

(vacantly repeating over and over) 
Yesterday upon the stair, 

| met a man who wasn’t there. 

He wasn't there again today. 

Oh how | wish he’d go away. 


BRANDT: 


Hey man, you okay? 


STEVENS: 

Yesterday upon the stair, 

| met a man who wasn’t there. 
He wasn't there again today. 
Oh how | wish he’d go away. 


BRANDT: 
There’s nothing there. 


MARKS: 
| don’t think he can hear you, Chief. 


BRANDT: 
We're here to help. 


Stevens becomes more insistent and agitated, and 
begins pounding his fists against the column. 


STEVENS: 

(angrily now) 

Yesterday upon the stair, 

| met a man who wasn’t there. 
He wasn’t there again today. 
Oh how | wish he’d go away. 


BRANDT: 
Ah, for crying out loud. Come on, stop hitting the column. 


REX: 
Commander, Chief, you’re going to want to listen to this. 


MARKS: 
What is it, Doctor? 


REX: 
Looks like an audio log. 


Rex plays the recording. It is indeed an audio log — Dr. 
Stevens recorded it earlier. The calm delivery of the log 
is juxtaposed with Steven’s insistent repetition of the 


mantra. 


STEVENS (RECORDING): 

Research log 2157-0368, Doctor Henry Stevens 
recording. We're entering our eleventh day cataloguing 
Section November of the object. Progress is slow, but 
steady. Our tests show that the column shares quantum 
entanglement with a column over in Section Whiskey, 
however there are no active power signatures in either 
column. Dr. Kelly insists that this object is dormant or 
dead, and that there has been no active nanotechnology 
here for millions of years. | disagree — there just isn’t the 
data to back up her assertions. We've only been here a 
few months — not long enough to finish cataloguing, 
much less analyzing — a find of this size. Privately, | am 
concerned. While Dr. Kelly has always been a tough 
woman, she’s gotten downright demanding in recent 
weeks. She’s been spending a lot of time in Section 
Delta — she says she’s there “listening”, even though the 
acoustic sensors indicate no appreciable ambient sound 
in that chamber. 


KELLY: 
Okay, that’s a little creepy. | don’t remember any of that. 


REX: 
We should keep moving — we still have a ways to go 
before we get to the bomb. 


BRANDT: 
What about Stevens? 


MARKS: 
There’s nothing we can do for him right now, so we leave 
him. We’ll come back for him after we get the bomb. 


The team continues on. 


BRANDT: 
There’s something written on the wall over there. (beat) 
“Even a dead god can dream.” 


REX: 
That’s not disturbing or anything like that. 


KELLY: 
Is that ...blood? 


REX: 
No. It looks like the same stuff we saw earlier in the 
docking area. 


MARKS: 
Keep moving, folks. 


The team moves on. 


MARKS: 
Alright, that’s rather a bit odd. 


Omega-4 has happened upon a group of researchers 
apparently frozen in place, running from a small glowing 
device in the middle of a side chamber. 


BRANDT: 
Research team, by the looks of it. Also, scared out of 
their minds. 


Rex hrumphs while examining his equipment. 


KELLY: 
They’re frozen in place. 


MARKS: 
Looks like they were frozen while they were running from 
that glowing object at the center of the chamber. 


BRANDT: 
Worth a look. 


Rex seizes Brandt and holds her back.