"You mean to say, the number of atoms in the universe is a perfect 
power of 2?" 


"Bright lad!" Craig grumbled, "To answer the next question | can see 
on your face, the number came from the anomalous carnies they got 
in Site-76. The ones with the bucket of sand." 


"Carnies," Stanley repeated in a flat tone. "You're basing the 
solution to a transcendent philosophical issue on Robin Marx and 
whoever the fuck from Hoboken, New Jersey? You had me go to bat 
for you in front of the O5 council on the word of carnies?" 


"| was afraid you'd feel that way. But they could count higher than 
that, so it's not that. And they're just confirmation of the same 
number | already had from two other sources, a book | requisitioned 
after flying down to that endless library and the scale they have in 
Cape Town." 


"That library has so many books that don't apply to this universe that 
it's hardly a source, and maybe the scale has an upper limit," 
Stanley objected, putting a palm over his furrowed brow. 


"That's one of the things right there, the library. We know there are 
multiple universes, right?" 


"Well, insofar as we can be sure of anything in this field, yes." 


"Those universes, they're separate simulations, different variables 
being tested. We're running in a sandbox! Those instances where 
we interact with them are sandbox breakouts! We—" 


Stanley motioned with two hands for a pause. 


"Let's work on the assumption you're right. Not saying | think you're 
right, because | don't. But what does this knowledge do for us? And 
if you mention The Matrix, I'm leaving.” 


Craig took a deep breath, trying badly to mask his irritation. 


"It would explain a hell of a lot about the damn skips, for one. It 
would answer long-standing questions in mathematics and biology 
and physics and God knows what else. Speaking of, it would sort of 
put the nail in the coffin on the whole God thing too, wouldn't it?" 


"Craig, | know you're a secular man, but you're talking about ripping 
away a moral cornerstone for much of the civilized world. Look, let's 
get some lunch and you can tell me more about your theory." 


Stanley and Craig stood up, and headed for the door. Stanley 


looked at the terminal one last time before shaking his head, flipping 
the light switch and closing the door. 


Congratulations! Your humans have reached true self-awar 
Achievements: 32/110 (29%) 


Leaderboards: 

BigTendrils ....... 196431 
GameteHunter2 ..... 195034 
Primates4Dinner.... 195011 
BigTendrils ....... 191766 
CarapaceSoSoft .... 190573 
VOU A Bares ta! Stanistan fe el ates 8456 


[Play Again] [Keep Playing] 


>> Ugh, why am I so bad at this game? 

<< You probably put too many points in military early. 
<< That's a pretty common mistake. 

>> Ah ok. 

>> I had a huge population spike... 

>> And then the research points just came in too fast. 
<< Use your natural disasters more. 

>> But they're my humans. -.{.: 

<< Don't get sympathetic, they're not real. 

<< How many chromosomes did you give them? 

>> 23. Do they need more? 

<< More? That's way too many. 

<< I never play with more than 14. 

<< Then they lay eggs. Eggs are the best. 

>> Oh! Maybe I'll try that next time. -.}.: 

<< dat 

<< So are you playing again or what? 


Hunted 


After Eli died | was the last one left. The demon kills quickly enough 
that | don't think there was much pain, and | am glad at least he did 
not have to endure the isolation | have suffered. After his death it 
was my turn to be hunted, my turn to be followed by the constant 
stink of blood and shit and feel it pool beneath my feet any time | 
stayed too long in one place. | am the last of the Children of the 
Maharal and | alone now live to remember our kind. 


We were once a great people before the demon chose us as its prey 
and we had to retreat to the wilderness. Before my time we lived in 
cities instead of being forced to wander tundra, rainforests and 
deserts. Anywhere we could be far from society and free of the 
demon's gaze. All | have known is a harsh life of constant travelling 
where our only comfort came from each other and the stories we 
told of our past. Stories from a time when we were heroes and 
legends instead of a people on the run from a monster that cannot 
be fought, only evaded. In the end all our efforts to hide were not 
enough. Time and again we were found and one by one we died 
until only the youngest of us remained. 


| spent a long time alone after Eli died. The journey seemed harder 
as did the fear but the worst was the loneliness. My world shrunk 
until all that remained was the demon, the running and my memories 
of the dead. | don't know how long it took but in time | grew weak 
and foolish. Our kind are not meant to be alone and so | travelled to 
the edge of a town, just close enough to remind myself that 
civilisation still existed, that people still existed. 


It was there | was discovered. Ordinary people with no 
understanding of the danger they posed and yet the demon watched 
from behind their eyes nonetheless. | froze instantly just as | had 
been taught, for the demon's eyes see only movement. | waited 
there until they noticed the demon's filth that pooled beneath me. 
Two turned away in disgust leaving only one to watch me. At the 


very instant she blinked | moved. Three sharp twists, each as | had 
been taught, the neck snapped, to turn away the demon's gaze and 
to minimise pain. It was cruel but necessary, just one glance of me 
in motion and the demon | feared would tear its way out of their 
skulls and into this reality. As their bodies fell to the ground | fled, 
retreating to the wilderness | should never have left. 


All my speed was not enough, the demon's mark left a trail of filth 
behind me that my captors could easily follow. In no time at all | was 
cornered and trapped in the prison of their gaze. To move would 
mean my death and to look away would mean theirs. As much as | 
may regret it, no number of human lives is worth more than the 
history | bear. 


Now | am trapped here, in a dark and tiny cage deep below the 
ground with the stink of blood and shit growing ever stronger. | pace 
my cell and | pound the unyielding walls, | have tried every means of 
escape and the best it has gained me is a little time as they move 
me from one cell to another. The demon's filth appears constantly 
now and my time is growing short. It will not be long before the 
demon grows strong enough to manifest and then all that will be 
remembered of me is a simple brute, a killer without purpose or 
meaning. | cannot allow that to happen. No matter how many lives it 
costs, no matter how hard | have to fight. | am the last of the golems 
and | must escape. 


Tales | 


This Year 


December 


"| can't believe you've survived a year in these conditions." Trench 
muttered, grimacing as he tried to wipe bat shit off his shoulder, only 
succeeding in smearing it into his overalls. Aries merely grunted in 
reply, her masked face impossible to divine any emotion from. She 
was focused intently on packing the bat shit into a rough humanoid 
shape, carving sigils into the torso with her fingernails and dripping 
her blood into the indents. 


The radio crackled, Willow’s gentle voice cutting through the gloomy 
ambience of the cave. “Status report, Sigma-66. Are you in 
positions?” 


Up in the higher tunnels of the cave system, Fenton answered first, 
voice as deep and velvety as ever. "I'd say we have four or five 
minutes before these things start to come at us as a group. We've 
already had to take out one or two who came sniffing at our 
location." While the dream mechanic's voice was utterly level, 
Trench got the impression he was worried. “How are you two doing 
down there?” 


"| set up basic wards around the generator to help with power 
conservation once the hexes trigger," Trench said into his shoulder 
radio, " but we've run into some trouble with the residents of the 
cave, so Aries is, uh..." He glanced down at Aries' frenetic sculpting. 
"What exactly are you doing, Aries?" 


Aries pulled off her mask as she finished the golem and tossed it 
into the great pile of guano, its arms flailing wildly as it arced through 
the gloom of the cave. She turned to him, the wild grin on her face 
accentuated by the rivulets of blood running down it from the ring of 
cuts all around her shaved scalp. 


"I'm gonna fuckin' hack the bats." 


February 


"We'll not survive the year in these conditions" Alvares growled, 
unhooking a third canister of liquid nitrogen from his belt and placing 
it roughly by the modified summoning circle Cassandra was tracing 
on the tiled floor in powdered milk and dipping dots. "First Grenich," 
he continued, "then Simmons last week - who's next, eh? Fucking 
meat grinder." 


Wretch, their newest recruit, cocked her head in an unspoken 
question that would probably have been spoken if she weren't in the 
process of regurgitating over one hundred pounds of steel. The 
contraption she was vomiting out resembled an ornate manhole, 
covered in sigils and demonic markings, with a large opening 
aperture operated by a ridged dial on one side. Whatever the thing 
was, Davis has emphasised its value during the debrief - the 
Foundation only had one, and if it was lost their heads would be on 
the line. That was the point where Aries had pointed out they also 
only had one of each team member and they didn't seem to be 
valued much did they, and had received a nice tazing for her 
troubles. 


"Grenich and Simmons used to be members of the team," Aries 
said, kneeling down by Wretch so she could be heard over the girl's 
gagging. "We left one behind to die, the other was punched to death 
by a minotaur." 


"Asshole fucking deserved it," Alvares muttered. "Grenich, like." 


It was hard to tell whether Wretch's expression of distress was at 
Alvares' comment or at the simple strain of pushing a 30-inch 
manhole cover out of a 2-inch mouth, but either way she'd started to 
cry. Aries bit her bottom lip, then reached forward and started 
tugging at the manhole, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the 
surface, covered as it was with this phlegmy saliva. This close, she 
could see the large logo stamped into the metal - RICHARD AND 
SONS. The girl's eyes widened in an expression of either pain or 
thanks - whichever way, it was better to have the thing out quick so 
they could have this whole shitty mission over and done with. 


Alvares continued as if they'd responded. "This is just an overly- 
elaborate way to execute us, I'm telling you." He gestured to the 
summoning circle as he spoke, and Cassandra raised an eyebrow, 
but otherwise made no indication she was even aware Alvares was 
talking as she finished off the outer ring, the powder lines glowing a 
faint blue as the final shapes were added to match the diagram on 
her tablet's screen. Aries sighed as she realised Cass was leaving it 
up to her to call him on his bullshit. 


"Stop talking out your ass, Dominic. There's no conspiracy here, 
we're just some garbage they don't care about and they're finding a 
fun way to recycle us." She'd wanted to say this dismissively, 
continuing to tug at the manhole, but as she spoke the thing passed 
its greatest circumference and popped wholly out of Wretch's throat 
with a slimy smack, sending Aries flying back and landing on her ass 
right in front of him, just outside the outer line of dipping dots. 


"As if you're not in on it, Clara." Alvares sneered, making no motion 
to help her up. "All that kooky blood witch bullshit to cover up you're 
part of the system too. Three or four months, bet you'll be creaming 
yourself at the chance to join the fresh new batch, eh? Guide them 
towards their trashy horror-film deaths one by one, high-fiving with 
Davis when their backs are turned." His face turned sour. "And 
you're such a bitch you decided to kill the magic plumber first." 


The only good retort to that, obviously, was to bite his ear off. Aries 
scrambled up, lunging for his face, and Alvares stepped back, foot 
landing on one of the cylindrical canisters he'd placed around the 
circle. He careened wildly, grabbing at the front of Aries' shirt, trying 
not to disrupt the powder trace while the ritual was still in progress, 
but ultimately only succeeded in flinging himself farther in, his foot 
flying out from underneath him and sending the canister whizzing 
into Wretch's cheekbone. The deafening clunk of that impact was in 
great contrast to the total silence as his head hit what should have 
been solid tile and passed through it like a thick gloop, a tiny ripple 
the only indication he'd ever been there at all. 


"Ah." said Aries, "Fuck." 


December 


Fenton wasn't exactly enthused by the new kid. Nettle hadn't talked 
once this whole mission except to acknowledge commands. He 
wouldn't have minded so much if he could judge the kid on other 
factors, but every bit of them was covered in a dark orange bodysuit, 
making it impossible to make out a damn thing about them. Even the 
kid's dream-self was indecipherable, a mass of bad memes and self- 
destructive tendancies whirling around a core of broken glass and 
blueberry jam. Not much weirder than what he'd seen in the rest of 
the team, but still, he wished he could get a read. 


It didn’t help that all Willow had seen fit to tell him in the debrief was 
not to touch them under any circumstances. Then again, Willow had 
told him hardly anything about this mission. Need-to-know asset 
retrieval, follow the steps as laid out in the mission docs. Find the 
cavern at the centre, activate Trench's machine, wait for further 
instructions. 


To their credit, they'd been doing well at the stealth aspect of the 
mission, their silence working in their favour. The creatures seemed 
to sense something was wrong about them, though. The slimy 
beasts would pause and growl as they passed, or just bolt, the inky 
patterns on their flanks swirling intensely. This did not, in fact, lower 
Fenton's unease one bit. 


They were hiding out in a carved-out hollow in the antechamber of 
the slime creatures’ nest, waiting on the results of the frankly insane 
claim Aries had made vis-a-vis the bats in the cave system below 
them. Just as he was shifting to check his watch, he heard a 
rumbling from the east tunnels. Almost on schedule, as usual. He let 
himself breathe a sigh of relief, and stepped out from the hiding spot 
to greet Aries and Trench. 


Out of the east tunnel burst a 12-foot tall anglerfish with legs, 
Trench's lifeless corpse caught in its huge jaws. 
May 


Cassandra’s laugh rang hollow through the impromptu operating 
room as the clockwork cancer spread further across her hands, 
fastening them in place against the screeching clicker priest. She 


SCP-873: Russian Crystal Ball 


Item #: SCP-873 
Object Class: Safe Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-873 is kept in a secure 
room at Site-19. (Revised see: Containment Procedure Updates) 
Three wide-spectrum high-definition cameras shall be mounted in 
order to maintain 360-degree observation of SCP-873 on a continual 
basis. Recorded video data shall be archived in the Foundation’s 
secure network and access granted to any researcher with a 
clearance 2 or better upon request. Physical examination and 
testing of SCP-873 is permitted with written approval from Level 3 or 
above. (Revised see: Containment Procedure Updates) 


Containment Procedure Update / /19 : Until further notice, 
physical access to SCP-873, as well as access to recorded video 
from SCP-873, is restricted to researchers with direct approval of the 
site director. 


Containment Procedure Update / /20 : Until further notice, 
physical access to SCP-873, as well as access to recorded video 
from SCP-873 is restricted to level 4 researchers with O5 approval.