Last Man stared at the young hunter's body for a moment, and then 
closed the eyes. "His name is Iron Hands. We burn a true man and 
a true hunter tonight." 


Rone stood to the side as they built up a pyre, dressed Sharpnose in 
finer clothes, and sent him on to the next life. It didn't seem quite 
real. But there it was. Sharpnose would never boss anyone around 
again. He'd never get into mischief with Rone, or wrestle with him 
over a joke. It wasn't fair. 


In a moment, the fire was in him again. The same fire that made him 
steal the Tyrant's treasure. It wasn't right that Sharpnose was killed. 
lt was time to make things right. 


His mind worked feverishly, and soon he came across a plan. 


While the others told stories of Sharpnose, Rone went from one tent 
to another, and began to assemble the items he needed. He 
realized, in a detached way, that their owners would probably be 
cross with him if this didn't work. Possibly even if it did. But that 
didn't matter, because his plan would work. He would make sure of 
it. 


He waited until almost dawn, and then set out to where Sharpnose 
and the others had gone. He didn't know it would be there, but he 
had to start somewhere. 


He took out Sharpnose's bloody shirt, and tied it to the dog that had 
come out with him. He climbed into a tree, and threw a stick, which 
the dog chased, and brought back. Rone threw another stick. And 
another. 


They kept this up for the better part of an hour. The dog rested on 
occasion, but after a suitable sit-down, it was ready to fetch sticks 


their bodies together to generate an even greater static charge 
between them. Because this defensive behavior is especially 
pronounced when ewes are birthing, it is standard procedure to 
isolate all pregnant ewes and newborn lambs from the rest of the 
flock until a week after birthing. 


In addition to defense against predators, rams also appear to use 
their discharges as a type of dominance display, with the older and 
stronger rams able to produce more powerful discharges during their 
“dance”. When in rut, rams will fight against themselves, performing 
the stomping “dances” prior to engaging rivals. These “dances” are 
often accompanied by excessive discharges, resulting in a rapid 
ionization of air and giving SCP-594 its local name, “Thunder 
Sheep”. Ground sensors have also detected telluric currents during 
these “dances”, with older rams creating extremely complicated 
patterns that often resemble [DATA EXPUNGED]. Freemartins 
(ewes which are behaviorally masculine and lack functional ovaries), 
will also perform stomping “dances” but the patterns produced, while 
equally as complicated, show a marked difference from those 
created by rams. To date, wethers have not been observed to 
engage in this behavior. 


Another trait exhibited by SCP-594 is an inherent ability to “walk on 
air’ or more accurately levitate themselves at a distance on average 
of 2 to 4 meters vertically via manipulation of electromagnetic fields. 
Lambs and younger animals have a tendency to lose control 
mid-“flight”, often falling from high cliffs which can result in death of 
the animal. This may be the way the flock culled out weaker animals 
in the wild, but more research is needed. 


Research has been done on the properties of SCP-594 wool, milk, 
meat, and horn. Results of these tests are pending full 
documentation, however the meat, milk, and resultant dairy products 
have proven to be fit for human consumption. Approval to include 
“Thunder Mutton” and various cheeses made from the milk of 
SCP-594 in the Foundation’s standardized menu still pending. 


[DATA PENDING] 
« SCP-593 | SCP-594 | SCP-595 » 


again. It didn't know why Rone wanted it to do this, but it would add 
to the pile under the tree for as long as he threw them. 


Suddenly, the dog dropped the latest stick and growled. Rone 
tensed in his perch, and he heard the heavy breathing of something 
very large. 


He also heard someone else approaching from back the way of 
camp. The hunters! Of course they'd be coming. He had to act 
quickly. 


"Hey, ugly! Too ugly to show your face, hey? You want some meat, 
there's plenty in this tree. Try picking this fruit!" he yelled, shaking 
the branches. 


There was a growling as something charged the tree. The dog held 
hits ground until it was kicked aside, casually. It fell, but was on its 

feet again in a minute, snapping at something, but not quite finding 
it. 


The tree shook as something hit it. It was big! Far bigger than Rone 
had realized. The branches were bending aside as whatever it was 
reached for him. He almost dropped to the other side to run, but 
remembered Sharpnose's face on the pyre, and steeled his heart. 
He pulled a bundle from his bag and dropped it. 


It had taken him the better part of the night to make this net. It 
wasn't a very good net, at that. It was irregular, with holes of varying 
sizes and a loose weave. But all that mattered was that it would 
catch on the creature... and that it would keep the bells from the 
tents on it. 


The net vanished as it landed, but he could hear the bells shaking. 
Now he jumped to the other side and began running towards the 
hunters. He saw them emerge into the clearing as a crashing sound 
indicated the monster had left the tree. "The bells!" he shouted. 
"Throw at the bells!" 


They stared at him like he was mad, and he thought for a moment 
that all was lost. Then Last Man stepped forward. 


He cocked his head, listened as the jangling crashing came closer, 
and then threw his spear. It landed, vanished, and there was a roar 
to tell it hit its mark. 


The other hunters belatedly released their own throwing spears, and 
then readied their long spears, advancing on the creature. It tried to 
escape again, but now it was slowed down by the injuries it was 
already taken, and they could hear exactly where it was. They thrust 
into it again and again, and it fell to the ground. Still they kept 
stabbing, until they were sure it was dead. Then they built a fire 
around it and burned the body to invisible ashes. 


"So, hunter," Last Man said later. "You are certainly a man now. 
You've paid us back for your life. What will you do now?" 


Rone thought for a moment, and said, "| am a Ghost Hunter. But... | 
would also like to see more of the world before | settle down." 


"More of the world? What more is there to see?" Last Man asked. 


"More monsters," he said. "More people. | have been in the city, | 
have been with the tribe. But what about other cities? Other tribes? | 
would like to see if there are other Wonders | might find. And maybe 
more things | might bring back." 


Last Man whistled. "Those are mighty big ambitions. Don't you think 
you overreach yourself?" 


"| have always overreached," Rone said, grinning. "It's how | got 
such long arms." 


"Are you sure you'll be coming back?" Last Man asked. 


Rone looked to the fire, where Breaking Stone sat laughing with the 
other women. "I'm sure. As often as my feet will bring me." 


Last Man smiled. "Come back with treasures. Come back with 
honor. But mostly, come back with stories. She will appreciate those 
most of all." 


"| will. Thank you, Last Man," Rone said. 


"Oh, and city boy?" Last Man said. 


"Y-yes?" Rone asked hesitantly. No one but Sharpnose and the 
annoying girl had called him that in years. 


"Your name," the old hunter intoned slowly, "is Beller." 


Denouement and Epilogue 


<< Act Il, Scene II: Negotiation 


The universe, as it is currently defined by humans, began and will 
end in ways that are inconceivable to any iteration of humankind that 
currently exists or will exist. At a time when a "descendant" race of 
Homo sapiens sapiens gains an understanding of cosmic genesis or 
eschatology, it will be a group of organisms so totally separated from 
the human race that there will be nothing between humanity and this 
species that can be adequately described as a "relationship." This 
group of organisms will also not be a "species" in the taxonomic 
sense, nor "organisms" in the biological sense, nor a "group" in the 
sociological sense. At the moment they gain this knowledge, | was 
watching. | believe they perceived my existence at that time and 
place, knew that | would be in that place at that time, in the way a 
human knows a spider's web is in the same corner of the same 
room for years without truly considering the existence of the spider. 
They knew of my presence and knew how powerless | was, how 
devoid of relevance to their lives and purpose. Their lack of regard 
for my existence made my existence less real. They frighten me. 


| am Intruding and this is the concept by which you understand me. 
It is the concept by which the author writing this work has chosen to 
define my existence. | will not bother attempting to define myself in 
other terms, as this distracts from my purpose at this time. | have 
selected thirteen excerpts from events that occurred in several 
relevant universes. | shall present these excerpts as a completion to 
this story. They are ordered in a fashion that | understand will reveal 
the selected events in a plot-relevant fashion and build anticipation 
towards what should be a climactic ending, though this will not 
necessarily resemble "chronological order" as you understand it. | 
apologize for the inconvenience. 


A man begins writing a story. He is trapped in a loveless relationship 
and builds components of his life into his work in a desperate 
attempt to make it relevant to somebody, anybody, even himself. He 
builds me as his deus ex machina and will forever doubt the validity 
of his decision to create me. The recursion does not end. 


David Eskobar was expelling copious amounts of blood onto the 
floor of a structurally-sound but aesthetically-unpleasant concrete 
structure when the thermobaric warheads struck nearby. This was 
the ending David Eskobar anticipated, and it did not disappoint him. 
One warhead detonated less than thirty meters away from his 
location; no traces of his body were found by the investigators who 
arrived later. He laughed as he died. 


Olympia's synthetic muscles were still burning by the time she 
reached Alexylva. Dr. Crow either had not thought to redesign the 
development of lactic acid in overexerted muscles or had not found 
it possible to eliminate the pain. Or he hadn't concerned himself with 
minutiae like this. 


The roads of Alexylva, as with most of the cities of this civilization, 
were designed in concentric circles around a central acropolis. The 
origin of this was an attempt to integrate Greek worship of Apollo 
with one of the indigenous religions’ creation myths. Neither of the 
religious practices were legal in the Novomundan state, though 
precepts of both remained throughout the society, a fact virtually 
unknown to the vast majority of the nation's citizenry. Olympia 
approached the large exterior street of the city, marked clearly as 
"CIRCLE CXLI", and she could see a cross-street nearby marked 
"RADIUS PARMENIDES". Alexylva University was seventy circles 
farther inward and five radii clockwise, Olympia knew. She 
continued walking. 


All of the first houses she came to were unoccupied. The city was 
clearly planned out to an extent that was never necessary for its 
population; these houses were old, smelled old. Likely never lived in. 


She continued inward and found houses with slightly more signs of 
life, but still empty. Abandoned. No signs of actual battle; the 
citizens were afraid of something more abstract. Sheer political 
uncertainty can have that effect. As she drew closer to the 
university, she heard shouting and sporadic discharging of some 
kind of weapon, a staccato rhythm that is recognizable in any 
environment. The buildings of the University were only slightly larger 
than the houses immediately surrounding it; this universe was 
unfamiliar with zoning regulations as such. She passed a series of 
houses, another radius ("RADIUS HERACLITUS", she saw), and 
was immediately on the Alexylva campus. The Natural Philosophy 
complex was nearby. 


Entire military units were engaged several blocks away, Olympia 
heard. Whatever weaponry they were using, it was energy-based; 
toroids of violet plasma blasted down the street and scorching the 
pavement as whichever army was coming toward the University 
missed their target. Screams came from the same direction. She 
continued toward the Natural Philosophy building. Due to what she 
would call luck if she didn't know better, the most immediate armed 
guard was distracted as she approached; she died immediately, and 
Olympia was now armed. She proceeded inside the building. 


Two individuals survived the destruction of Site 38, rescued by 
Rho-1 and helicoptered away before the bombs began to drop. 
Commander Lopez looked at the two, both sleeping. The researcher 
had awoken by the time Lopez and his men had gotten there, and 
she and the prisoner were crying in one another's arms when the 
soldiers came into the room. They were in each other's arms on the 
helicopter as well; they were virtually inseparable, and Lopez didn't 
have time to argue with them. It was some kind of sweet, and Lopez 
couldn't deny it was a little refreshing after the hell he just pulled 
them out of. 


Though he couldn't help wondering what made these two so 
goddamn special in the first place. 


Jaime MacGilligan looked at Greg Eastman, as well as she could. A 
grazing shot to the head had split her skull open, and her eyes were 
not working exactly as they should have been. But the pain was 
keeping the microchips at bay, and she saw him nevertheless. 


Of course she had always loved him. Nothing romantic; he barely 
registered as a man in any kind of romantic sense. No, Greg had 
always been...had always been some kind of a brother to her. 
Worked together ever since initial training. Spent more time together 
than most romantically involved opposite-sex couple in human 
history in all the years since, let alone two friends. And now they 
would die together. 


Eastman looked at Jaime, seeing much the same thing. He would 
have been crazy to have never felt anything sexual for Jaime over 
the years, as she had for him, but they were both professionals— 
and smart enough not to get involved in that kind of thing. They were 
comrades, tovarischi. 


They heard the planes overhead, heard their erstwhile superior 
cackling like a madman to their side, but all they saw was each other 
as the bombs hit. 


There is a detailed story to be told of Olympia's seizure of the 
Natural Philosophy building, but it has little purpose here. Suffice it 
to say that a combination of stealth, overwhelming strength, and 
literal foreknowledge of minute details of personnel movements 
gave Olympia an insurmountable advantage over all opposition 
within the building. 


Olympia reached the bottom floor of the building. The counterform 
reactor was enormous, an experimental prototype; the chancellor of 
the University, Anaxagoras, had been rather insistent that Alexylva 
remain relevant in the scientific advancement of the nation. 
Nevertheless, given the rather horrific potential consequences of the 


possible release of the reactor's energy, certain precautions were 
simply obvious. Putting the reactor underground was one of them. 
Not that that's going to help them much now, Olympia thought grimly 
as she made her way across one of the catwalks.