So, | reached the top- and stopped. There was 
the observatory, one which resembled the 
technological marvels at the cutting edge of 
American science. There were its inhabitants, 
friendly, reticent, frightfully learned. And there 
was a Sheet of- well, | know of no way to 
describe it other than "strange", as truthful and 
as flawed a description as all my 
predecessors. 


| learnt nothing there. | asked desperately for 
that one burning question- "What did it all 
mean?"- but the inhabitants just looked at me 
oddly, quizzically. | was irrelevant to them. 
They were on the ceiling of the world, and had 
bigger concerns- their scholarship, the 
mapping of the heavens, the truth of the 
cosmos. 


But like the good researcher that | was, | 
needed to know. How did this place exist? 


Why was it here? What had caused the 
conqueror of the world and his companions to 
set him here, to build-or occupy- this 
observatory? Why would anyone live here? 
Where did they get their food? 


And so | went to the glass, and looked into the 
Khan's eyes, staring up at the sky, and | 
laughed. Because it doesn't matter. This place 
had a meaning, or meanings. In the darkness 
of the world, in the mysteries of its age, there 
is some purpose, but it is lost. It doesn't 
matter. Half a dozen utopias are described in 
the pages of the file, by men with different 
concerns to us. They sought to create, use, 
contextualise; they sought to bind this place, 
this miracle, into a single unity, a single 
meaning. They wanted to define it and give it 
meaning. We, in our modern way, want to do 
the same. 


Well. To hell with all that, and since I'm dying, 
to hell with all of you, too. | don't know who 
made it or why. All | know is that it's beautiful, 
and has inspired men of great talent and of 
none to spill ink across the page. This is the 
observatory of Genghis Khan, and that's all it 
needs to be; a sublime mystery which you will 
never understand, you bunch of calcified 
researchers. For the rest of the day- and the 
two days beyond that | stayed there-, | sat, 
read, drank qumis and imbibed opium, 
laughed and read and stared at the sky, at the 
twinkling of that which is beyond our 
comprehension. | talked with Afshar and Ibn 
Ubayd and Li and all the rest. And when | 
descended, | was happy; not because | knew, 
but because | knew not. 


| am going now. My time will come soon. | wish 


you all the happiness in the world, dear reader. 


Footnotes 
1. A more direct transliteration of Genghis Khan's name used by 


Callaghan. 

2. believed to be a reference to the typical form of Timurid-era 
observatories, which contained a large trench and an arch used to 
determine midday. 


SCP-3987: Cocktail Cravings 


Item #: SCP-3987 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3987 is contained within a 
cubic five meter long airtight unit made out of inorganic materials in 
a specialized containment area located in rural Wyoming operating 
under the cover of a brewery. SCP-3987's containment unit is 
subject to daily sweeps by Foundation personnel equipped with 
airtight inorganic hazmat suits to monitor and destroy any emergent 
technology, and to repair any damage done to the containment 
unit's bulkhead. Personnel should be subject to EMP 
decontamination prior to exiting the containment area. 


Description: SCP-3987 is a large number of intelligent 
nanomachines that will, on contact with any non-human organic 
matter, immediately begin to convert said matter into an alcoholic 
liquid. Human matter will also be converted, but may present further 
complications'. Testing has shown that this liquid is composed of 
approximately 37.5% dark rum and 62.5% ginger beer, with 
occasional trace amounts of lime juice also having been detected. 
When exclusively exposed to inorganic materials for an extended 
period of time, SCP-3987 will begin to slowly? eat away at said 
material and fashion it into tools which vary widely in level of 
technological advancement. Generated tools have included stone 
cylinders, firearms, and highly focused lasers. Almost all of these 
tools were utilized to attempt to break containment. Sightings of 
SCP-3987 were first reported after what is suspected to have been 
an interdimensional portal described by civilians as “Giant hole in 
the sky” manifested 1:09 AM on July 5, — . The landscape behind 
the portal was described as “a sea of brown liquid with rafts of metal 
floating on the surface”. Another anomalous object designated as 
SCP-3987-A, rendered inoperable by local authorities before the 
Foundation’s could respond, is believed to have been responsible 


for the opening of this portal, which closed without outside 
intervention approximately 2 hours after SCP-3987 emerged from it. 
SCP-3987 was recovered from the partially converted corpses of 
several local law enforcement officials. 


Incident Log 
+ Show Incident Log 


Incident I-6542-907: At 5:20 PMon / / , Agent 
Lavvone experiences a failure of integrity to her hazmat 
suit, causing her to become directly exposed to 
SCP-3987. The rest of the personnel immediately 
evacuated the unit. Agent Lavvone’s communication 
device remained active, revealing her survival even after 
making contact with SCP-3987. Due to the EMP 
decontamination being ineffective through layers of skin, 
Agent Lavvone was not permitted to exit the containment 
unit. The timeline of events follows: 


5:30 PM: Agent Lavvone expresses 
amazement at her own survival, and affirms 
that she understands the reasons for her 
detainment in the containment unit. 

5:45 PM: Agent Lavvone begins to complain of 
an itching sensation permeating the entirety of 
her body. She issues a request to be allowed 
to exit the containment unit, which is 
summarily denied. 

6:07 PM: Agent Lavvone’s tone changes 
dramatically, with her mannerisms changing to 
suggest an air of familiarity. She once again 
requests to exit the containment unit, and is 
again denied. 

6:24 PM: Agent Lavvone, now completely 
under the influence of SCP-3987, identifies 
herself as the nanomachine swarm and 
cheerfully promises to serve the listening 
agent “a glass of the usual” in exchange for 
her release from the containment unit. After 
request is being denied, Agent Lavvone 


remarks “Are you sure? It’s packed in here 
tonight, and | don’t think I'll be able to make 
due with what | have in this rooms.” 

6:49 PM: Loud sloshing sounds can be heard 
through the microphone followed by an end of 
communications. 


A cleanup team arrived at the site 2 hours later. The 
contents of the containment unit were found to be 
identical to those present before the incident except for 
the presence of 20 glasses of the alcoholic liquid 
SCP-3987 produces. 


Footnotes 

1. See Incident I-6542-907 

2. Ata rate about 250 times slower than the rate the nanomachines 
break down organic matter 

3. Agent Lavvone was the only human remaining both in the 
containment unit and the rest of the containment area at this point. 


Incident 517-1997-M 


SCP Involved: SCP-517 

Personnel Involved: Dr. Agusta Meil (deceased), Site-23 Security 
Date: 08/25/1997 

Location: Storage Site-23. 


On 08/25/1997, at approximately 13:56, the late Dr. Meil was 
targeted by SCP-517 while supervising the object’s transport to a 
new storage locker. Security and Site Director were alerted, and a 
defensive strategy was devised. 


At 23:30, Dr. Meil was loaded into a Foundation UH-60 Black Hawk, 
five security personnel assigned as bodyguards. Helicopter was 
situated on Helipad 3-8, located on the roof of the then-empty 
Cafeteria 1. 


Non-essential security personnel from sectors 1, 3 and 4 were 
armed with blades and stun batons, and select personnel were 
granted flame weapons and concussion explosives. Squads were 
directed to strategic points around Cafeteria 1’s main and second 
floors, and instructed to destroy any instances of SCP-517-01 that 
appear. As this was the first concerted effort intended to overcome 
SCP-517-01, all measures were taken. 


As Cafeteria 1 was not constructed with a proper basement, it was 
expected that SCP-517-01 would manifest in one of the surrounding 
buildings. All SCP objects that posed a threat if released by 
SCP-517-01 were moved to another area of the Site. SCP-059’s 
enclosure is located away from Cafeteria 1 and as such was 
deemed safe. 


Log of Events 
* 23:57 - Dr. Meil and guards board aerial transport 


* 00:05 - Night time illumination augmented by 


SCP-3988: A Fire in the Knight 


Item #: SCP-3988 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3988 is to be housed in a 
Teflon-coated, stainless steel standard humanoid containment cell. 
An automatic drainage system constructed of the same materials is 
to be included, and must route all collected fluids to a hazardous 
liquids storage tank for containment and future disposal. This cell is 
also to be equipped with a ceiling-mounted, externally-exhausted 
ventilation system capable of exchanging 1500 litres of air per hour 
alongside a triply-redundant, smoke-activated standard Class IV 
automatic fire extinguishing system. 


SCP-3988's vital signs are to be monitored remotely via surgically 
implanted probes, in addition to uninterrupted visual observation via 
security camera. Any change, whether physiological or behavioral, 
should be reported to the lead researcher immediately. 


Under no circumstances should open flames or spark-producing 
equipment be introduced to SCP-3988's containment cell at any 
time. 


Description: SCP-3988 is a humanoid organism that is genetically 
human, but displays significant physiological degradation and 
mutation. Its integumentary, muscular, and skeletal systems are 
atrophied, and its remaining organs are either weakened or 
nonfunctional. Exceptions are the brain, which appears to function 
normally, and the heart. 


As a result of these abnormalities, SCP-3988 is physically weak, 
and can only walk with a great amount of difficulty. Its skin is a 
mottled, dark orange in coloration, and is fragile and easily 
damaged. Open sores are present on 70% of its body. It can 
communicate in fluent English and German, but its speech is often 


halting and strained due to its damaged vocal cords, mouth, and 
tongue. It requires no sustenance and does not sleep, but does 
require oxygen to at least some extent despite its impaired 
respiratory system. It will display signs of distress if deprived of 
oxygen, but its vital signs will not cease if its air supply is not 
restored. 


SCP-3988 constantly secretes a substance, designated 
SCP-3988-1, from its skin and all external orifices. SCP-3988-1 is a 
viscous, transparent orange-brown liquid that displays a number of 
anomalous properties. Its chemical makeup is highly complex; after 
analysis, it has been shown to be a mixture containing varying 
amounts of volatile hydrocarbons including butane and heptane, 
nitroglycerin, and dozens of other volatile and explosive compounds. 
It also contains a number of exotic compounds that as of yet remain 
unidentified. While generally stable, it possesses a specific energy 
far in excess of what its known constituent compounds would 
suggest (~500 MJ/kg, more than three times that of pure 
compressed hydrogen), rendering it and its fumes violently explosive 
at atmospheric pressure. SCP-3988-1 in all its forms has an 
autoignition point of roughly 150° C. 


SCP-3988-1 is also acidic, corrosive, and toxic when pure, with a pH 
of roughly -1.0 and an LD50 of approximately 5 yg/kg. 


SCP-3988 generally remains motionless in its cell and has not been 
observed to speak unless spoken to. It has been cooperative with 
Foundation personnel, and has willingly participated in all testing 
trials, examinations, and interviews. 


+Interview SCP-3988-01 


Interviewed: SCP-3988 

Interviewer: Dr. Kumail Khan, Senior 
Researcher 

Intake interview conducted remotely via 
corrosion-resistant loudspeakers within 
SCP-3988's enclosure. 

Date: 11/26/2006 

Note: SCP-3988's multitude of respiratory 
disorders results in its soeech being broken by 


labored breathing, coughing, and gasping. To 
retain a measure of accuracy, these 
interruptions have been annotated, or 
otherwise represented with ellipses. 


Dr. Khan: Hello, SCP-3988. 


SCP-3988: Hello. It appears... | have yet 
another name. 


Dr. Khan: An official designator. Some 
protocols must be observed. You have a 
preferred moniker? 


SCP-3988: *coughing* Yes. Several. Most 
recently... Klaus. 


Dr. Khan: No surname? 


SCP-3988-01: *mixed coughing and laughter 
Klaus... Verbrannt. Bit of a joke. 


Dr. Khan: | see. What would the reason be for 
multiple names, Klaus? 


SCP-3988: Breach of... courtesy, my friend. 
You have... my name. Shall | have yours? 


Dr. Khan: Dr. Kumail Khan. 


SCP-3988: A pleasure, doctor. Pakistani, | am 
guessing? *coughing* | am still a German 
through and through... only keep the accent 
for nostalgia's sake if | am to be honest ... 
Perhaps you could... prescribe me some 
lozenges... for this rather nasty cough, yes? 
*coughing laughter 


Dr. Khan: Not that kind of doctor, 
unfortunately. Although if your symptoms are 
giving you discomfort, | could see what | could 
do about having a specialist look you over. 


SCP-3988: *coughing* Don't bother yourself. 
“wheezing laughter Nothing to be done, I'm 
afraid. Ich bin hoffnungsios. |\'m hopeless! 
“laughter, coughing* 


Dr. Khan: I'm afraid | don't know enough about 
your condition to be able to agree or disagree, 
Klaus. But | admit my curiosity. 


SCP-3988: Of course you do. | certainly am... 
a curiosity. This is not the first time... I've been 
held captive and prodded, friend. | am quite 
familiar... with the way this goes. 


Dr. Khan: We can talk about that in a moment. 
First, if you'd be willing to indulge me, can you 
tell me how exactly you ended up this way? 


SCP-3988: *coughing laughter | am... a 
knight, Herr Doktor. Does that word... mean 
anything to you? 


Dr. Khan: | am familiar with the concept. Are 
you speaking literally or figuratively? 


SCP-3988: Literally, to a point. | suppose | 
am... Officially an 'ex-knight', as | betrayed my 
order, but | took the liberty... of calling myself 
such regardless. It is hard... to truly take the 
armor off, if you catch my meaning. 


Dr. Khan: You betrayed your order? | must 
say, that doesn't seem like a terribly chivalrous 
thing to do. 


SCP-3988: * wheezing laughter Not at all. 
Allow me... to explain. You are no doubt 
familiar... with the Protestant Reformation? 


Dr. Khan: | am. 


SCP-3988: That powder keg went off... in my 


hometown. Wittenberg. | was a young man... 
barely a knight myself. Then that verdammt 
Martin Luther had to come along... this reflects 
poorly on me, Herr Doktor, | admit it. | am 
not... proud of the thoughts | harbored back 
then. | do not wish... to speak ill. But as a 
knight of the Church, | had what I will call... 'a 
pretty good gig’, ja? And he wrecked it all up. | 
was a young... and privileged fool. Grew up 
poor. Was only dubbed... because | got lucky, 
and learned to love my status. But then... 
things became very nasty. Schrecklich. The 
Protestants, as far as | could see... they only 
wanted freedom, and their words... well. 
Where once | saw honor, | began to see 
tyranny. 


Dr. Khan Herr Verbrannt, are you telling me 
that you are over five hundred years old? 


SCP-3988: 507, by my reckoning. Surely 
impossible, ja? Though | truly don't feel a day 
over 80.*coughing laughter 


Dr. Khan: We are trained to treat the words of 
all our inductees with a degree of skepticism, 
but | will say that I've seen stranger things in 
my time. So you took part in the fighting, and 
ended up siding with the rebels instead?