His radio crackled, a message coming from his superior. The rain 
was messing with the signal, however, and he could only hear bits 
and pieces. 

"Hey ... in. He's ... going ... coming ..." 

"What's that? Can't hear." 

"Get ... back to site ..." 

"Yep, as soon as | get the body." 
The younger lifted the body onto his shoulders, and rose from the 
fire pit. As he emerged from the ground, the bleeding albino stepped 
from the tree line. The two froze, staring at each other. The entity 
opened his mouth, and croaked. 


"| thought there were people getting her. | don't really 
care, I'm just here for my knife." 


The agent didn't respond. The entity leaned down and picked up the 
knife he had left on the ground. He turned a little, and displayed the 
weapon to the other man. 


"It's a good knife." 


The younger man kept his eyes trained on the anomaly as it 


returned into the woods, and then for five minutes after. Only when 
he was certain he was safe did he march back through the dark and 
stormy night. 


Those Who Lived On 


The more things change, the more they stay the same. 
And that which man thinks he knows best 
Might have been different before he came. 

Ancient stories, once lain to rest. 


I'm sure you've been around long enough to hear the stories. 
Ancient beings from impossible worlds. Dragons and Behemoths, 
fueled only by hatred. Incomprehensible horrors hiding behind 
innocent faces. 

Were those stories wrong? 


Everything has a story; you, me, the monsters, all of us. Some 
stories are never told. Some desperately need to be. 


Tales of the Travelers: 

A World's Legacy 

Lost Golden Days 

Pooling Our Resources 
Intermission: Audience of Crowns 
Deadalive Deadalive 

Tales of the Old Lands: 


This Is How The World Ends 


+ Meet the characters 


SCP-053/Quarseta-ql-Paneu 


One of our story's main protagonists. Thirteen years 
have passed, and she now has the form and heart of a 


Incident Report 1741-A 


SCP involved: SCP-741 
Date: / / 
Location: [REDACTED] 


Preamble: Two previous dives to the site of SCP-741 have reported 
numerous anomalous findings, including the artifact (SCP-741-1) 
inside the reactor. A third dive has been arranged to investigate the 
anomalies outside the submarine itself. 


Divers are based off the icebreaker Yamal; ostensibly they are 
investigating the possibility of lost torpedo or missile warheads from 
K-141 Kursk. Even their cover mission is classified to minimize 
questioning. A 40 km exclusion zone has been established around 
the site via securite calls, no civil shipping is in the area. 


Audio Logs 

Log begins / / @0937 

A27: Yamal control, | have the sub in sight now. 

Yamal control: Acknowledged, A27. 

A26: A27, get a look at that. 

A29: What the hell? 

A27: Very odd. I'm taking some photos. 

A30: That's not the only weird thing, either. Take a look at that hole - 
did you see something move? 

A26: Probably just a giant isopod, they're everywhere down here. 
Maybe a spider crab. 

A830: You're right, I'm just twitchy. 

Yamal control: You're go for active ops. Say again, sonar and lights 
are go. 

A27: Keep cool. Light 'em up. 

A29: I'm lit. Moving toward the starboard-side breach now, no 
evidence of change since last survey. Wait... There's something 


sixteen-year-old girl. However, looks can be deceiving, 
as her soul is that of something far older. Generally kind 
character, both to humans and to her companions, but 
doesn't quite seem to get that there's anything wrong 
with death. 


SCP-682/Atanti-ql-Paneu 


The Hard-To-Destroy reptile himself. Sees humanity as 
very, very, wrong and feels compelled to get rid of it 
when possible. Acts like a lizardy combination of a 
grandpa and Aslan towards 053. Acts like a bitter war 
veteran towards the other denizens of the previous 
iteration. 


SCP-1129/Edrisek-tsa-Fanu 


A fairly quiet character (as in, they can't talk) who's 
communications and actions are described through 
descriptions of visuals. Simple thinking with a 
disinterested attitude towards humans. Serves as a 
means of transport and protection for 053 and 682. Also 
serves to make things happen in the background. 


SCP-303/Evuruct-rru-Kirge 


Portrayed as a crotchety combination of an old hermit 
and mad scientist. Misses the family he lost during the 
change in iterations and seeks to recreate them. 


SCP-173/Koitern 


A very bad man in the previous iteration. He is both 
dangerous, a savage dictator, and a madman. 
Singlehandedly waged genocide on about 1/3 of 682's 
countrymen in the past iteration. 


+ Concept for the Series 


This series ties up all the big, terrifying, eldritch, inhuman 
SCPs and anomalies in one ball... and makes them 
relatable. Not that they aren't still eldritch and terrifying, 
but they are presented in such a way that human readers 
(which make up the majority of our base) can relate to 
them, personality, backstory, and all the rest. 


A good chunk of the anomalies in the SCiPverse are 
survivors of the massive reality-altering event which 
destroyed the previous iteration of the multiverse and 
replaced it with the current one. The reality of previous 
iteration was slightly more flexible and volatile, not 
suitable for your vanilla human, but its inhabitants 
seemed to like it just fine. 


+ How to contribute 


Your Tale should fall into one of two categories: 
Tales of the Travelers 


These tales will detail the adventures of Quarseta, Atanti, 
tsa-Fanu, and whatever guest skips you'd like. The main 
storyline consists of our protagonists attempting to find a 
way back into the previous iteration of reality, but they 
may have a few side adventures as well. 


Tales of the Old Lands 


What on sf'esxdf' was the old iteration like?! Who were 
the celebrities and commoners? What were our 
characters lives like back then? What were the politics 
and customs? A set of slice of life Tales which cover 
these questions and more. 


Before writing your Tale, please read the existing works 
in the series. While writing, make sure to keep your 
characters relatable. Before posting, please send your 


draft to DreamwalkerFae for critique and an okay, and 
don't forget to get feedback from other members in 
advance! 


A World's Legacy 


Doomed World. 
Desperate People. 
Last Hope. 
Fearful Wardens. 
Young Girl. 


Fifty Three sat in front of her room's mirror, braiding her hair for 
when her guest arrived. She wondered who would be visiting her in 
the hospital. It couldn't be her parents, the doctors told her that her 
disease made them sick before she was brought there. It couldn't be 
one of the people in the funny suits, they wouldn't be coming for four 
more days. If it was another little kid or teenager to play with, the 
doctors would have told her if it was. So, left wondering as to what 
was about to happen, Fifty Three continued to prepare for her 
unknown guest. 


With time to spare, Fifty Three remembered back as far as she 
could. The very earliest that she could remember, she had been 
painting a picture in her room. Before the time that she could 
remember, the doctors told her, her parents had brought her here 
because she was sick. She saw no reason to doubt this story; she 
had seen other patients' rooms when they moved her, and everyone 
either wore lab coats or special clothes to keep them from getting 
sick. Well, no, that wasn't right. There was one thing, one of her 
favorite memories, that didn't quite belong in a hospital. After all, 
why would a hospital have a dragon? 


She knew that dragons only lived in stories, but she also 
remembered very clearly that memory from thirteen years ago. She 
remembered the gentle giant with the cool, firm scales and the long, 
flowing mane. She remembered his patience as she drew colorful 
scenes on his neck and face. She remembered the strange, 
haunting melodies that he sang to her. She remembered her friend, 


whom she had known for less than a day. 


After a short while, the door to her room opened to reveal the metal 
box that the doctors used to move her from place to place, to keep 
people from getting sick, the doctors assured her. 


"SCP-053, please enter the transport container," a calm voice 
commanded over a small speaker. 


After she had entered the container, the door shut once again and 
she felt the box begin to move. She noticed a small cooler anda 
sleeping bag sitting in the corner of the box. Food, water, and 
bedding. They only used those for long trips. 


The small speaker piped up again. "Good afternoon 053." 


"Good afternoon doctor," she replied. "Can you tell me who I'm 
meeting now?" 


"Not yet, it's still a surprise. The trip will take a while, so | would 
advise that you get comfortable." 


Fifty Three milled around her room for a while, ate her dinner, 
drained a bottle of water, and decided to sleep through the rest of 
the trip. 


She was awakened by the voice over the speaker; "SCP-053, we 
have reached our destination." 


She sat up groggily as the door opened. A slow smile spread across 
her face as she saw who was on the other side. It was her friend. 


By order of the O5 Council: 

Due to an increase in the frequency and destructiveness 
of SCP-682's containment breaches, Protocol 
COLUMBIDAE 682/053 is to be implemented at the 
nearest possible date. 


Fifty Three embraced her friend, at least, as much of him as she 
could. 


"Little one," his deep voice rumbled, "it has been too long. Have you 
been well?" 


"Yes, | have been. Well, I'm still sick, but | feel well enough." 


"Hmm. You have been among these humans too long. | have much 
to teach you." 


"What do you mean, my friend?" 


"Have you not noticed it, my child? Have you not noticed that you 
are not like them? You may take the same shape as them, but | can 
see you as you truly are." 


"| don't understand." 


"My child, you are not like them. Your spirit is far older. It is the 
same as | am, a Stranger in this world. You are as | am. That is why 
they tell you that you are ill. It is because they fear you. They fear 
you because they cannot understand your spirit." 


Fifty Three sank to her knees, processing the information. Why did 
she get the feeling that the dragon was telling her the truth? How 
could it be true? Was she just sick? Were the doctors afraid of her? 
All of this sounded like something out of a wild story. Then again, 
dragons only existed in stories too. Why would a hospital have a 
dragon? 


"Would you like to hear the truth? Would you like to know our story?" 
Fifty Three nodded mutely. 


And so, SCP-682 spent the rest of the day telling her of another 
place, another time, another story. He told her of great kingdoms, of 
the kindness that he had seen among his people, and of the 
hardships they had endured. 


At the end of the day, a door opened up in the wall. On the other 
side of the wall, there was a room that looked exactly like Fifty 
Three's old room. A new voice blared over the speakers, ordering 
her to return to her bedroom for the night. Before crossing the 
threshold, Fifty Three turned around. 


"My friend, what is your name?" 


"In our home, | was called 'Atanti-ql-Paneu’. The name that you will 
call me by, however, will be 'Atanti."" 


And so, their lives continued this way for many months. Atanti would 
tell Fifty Three of their old home. Fifty Three would paint along or 
rest by his side. And, in time, she came to know of their past, and 
the truth of the "hospital." And all this time, she grew ever closer to 
Atanti. 


"Atanti, tell me the story of the Seventh King's Speech again." 


"Not today, my child." The behemoth took a deep breath. "Tell me 
once again, what is your name?" 


"Fifty Three." 


"No my child, that is merely the name that the humans have forced 
on you. It suits you no better than the name 'Sicz-Eitu' suits me. No, 
my child, you need a name truly deserving of your nature." The 
great dragon sat in silent contemplation for a moment. "Quarseta-ql- 
Paneu.' Will you take this name?" 


“Quarseta." She let the name roll off her tongue. "It's a beautiful 
name. What does it mean?" 


"In our tongue, it means 'The Bringer of Joy.' Now, come Quarseta. 
We have business to attend to." 


"Business?" 
"Of course. Did you expect to spend the rest of your life in this 
prison? Now go, collect your books and your paints. There is one 
more friend that we have yet meet." 

Incident 682/053/1129: 


[0:15]: SCP-053 moves to its individual containment cell. 


[1:02]: SCP-682 begins adaptation, gaining a much 


leaner form and a coat of interlocking plates of armor. 
[4:13]: SCP-053 returns, carrying a cardboard box. 
[4:57]: SCP-053 climbs onto the back of SCP-682. 


[5:26]: SCP-682 develops a large, bony crest on its 
forehead, shielding SCP-053. 


[5:43]: SCP-682 and SCP-053 breach containment. 
[12:17]: SCP-682 and SCP-053 escape Site-19. 


[17:24]: Mobile Task Force Beta-7 ("Maz Hatters") 
deployed to intercept SCP-682 and SCP-053. Mobile 
Task Force Eta-11 ("Snake Oil") and Mobile Task Force 
Xi-4 ("Chimney Sweeps") are deployed to clear areas in 
the path of the anomalies of civilians. 


[5:18:01]: Contact lost with MTF Beta-7. 
[19:11:03]: SCP-682 and SCP-053 arrive at Site-83. 


[19:17:49]: SCP-682 and SCP-053 reach the 
containment cell of SCP-1129. 


Quarseta looked on the scene in front of her in awe. A very beautiful 
person, their form twisting and turning through space in mesmerizing 
patterns. It was a dazzling display which gave one simultaneous 
senses of wonder and danger, like a coral snake or a tornado. And 
somehow, behind the transient images, there was a definite feeling 
of kindness and purity. 


"Edrisek, my dear friend. It is good to see you again." 
The dazzling being flashed and twirled back a greeting. 


"Quarseta, this is my friend, Edrisek-tsa-Fanu. You will call them 
‘tsa-Fanu.' They will be our guide as we travel." 


"Where are we going?" 


"Home, my child. Home. Now, simply step into Edrisek's embrace, 
and we will take the first steps of our journey." 


Quarseta hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward. Imagine, if 
you will, sinking deep into a soft, warm bed after a long day of tiring 
work. That was what Quarseta thought of when she walked into tsa- 
Fanu. 


And then they were gone. 


New World. 
Desperate Travelers. 
Fresh Hope. 
Old Masters. 
Quarseta. 


HUB | Lost Golden Days » 


Lost Golden Days 


A world lost to the unknown. 
A Young Girl befriending a Dragon. 
A door opening. 


Once tsa-Fanu stopped spinning the world around her, it took 
Quarseta a moment to gain her bearings. Once her mind had 
cleared a bit, she realized that she was standing outside a very large 
and old looking house, like one that you might read about in a book, 
with secret passages and coats of armor and staircases so high that 
it would take you all of half of an hour to reach the top of them. 
Feathery gills were forming on Atanti's back to soak in the rain, 
which was pouring down on them from the dark night sky. 


"Atanti, | think something went wrong, this still looks like Earth." 


"I'm afraid that it's not quite that simple, my child. Right now, we are 
not able to return home. That is why | said that these were the first 
steps. And that is why we are here, for help."