He was pressed hard against the hallway's curved walls, 408 
carefully guarding him, as he waited for the approaching guard to 
get a little closer. It should be a fairly simple process. Enter the 
security point, open the proper containment units with Halifax's 
code, and clear a path straight to their insurance. He couldn't 
imagine finding the location of a bunch of failed experiments would 
be so damn hard, but Bright had covered the tracks of his weakness 
fairly well, if inadvertently. It would, of course, be here at Site-19, 
where Bright could keep an eye on it. But Site-19 was very, very big. 


And there were many, many places to hide something. 


Imants had done his job well, and now it was up to Kondraki. One 
last run into the belly of the beast. One last mission before 
everything would be over, finally. The Foundation had taken several 
steps away from where it had been when he'd been an agent. There 
were fewer and fewer containments, more and more Neutralizations. 
He was even aware of a few cities that had been razed after 
experiments were conducted there and found to have less than 
optimal results. The O5 were further and further removed, the 
Director given more and more power. He might have liked the 
position fifteen years ago, but time had mellowed his ambitions. 
Slightly. 


The guard rounded the last bend, slowly approaching the coded 
door. He placed his thumb over the checkpoint, causing the door to 
beep once, cheerily, and open. Kondraki stepped out, bringing a well 
timed chop down on his foe's neck, causing him to stumble, but not 
fall. Kondraki cursed as he pulled the sawed off shotgun out from 
under his coat as the guard looked up at him. 


"Konny?" 
Kondraki's eye's widened. "Jack?" 


The guard's hand flew to the alarm, slamming down on it as 
Kondraki's finger squeezed the trigger. The blast blew away much of 
the guard's face, though much too slowly to avoid the unfortunate 
consequences. The guard meant one thing: Jack had activated 
963-2. 


He stepped over the body, scanned Halifax's name badge, and 
started running. 

Eleven Years Earlier: 

In retrospect, Glass thought they should have gone with Clef's plan. 


The charges were set in a fairly open area, with a remote detonator 
rigged to the wall. They waited as the first security crew passed, 


until they knew the Jack with 963 would be directly above the 
explosion and sprung the trap. 


Clef spun around the forward corner, putting two shells each into the 
forward guards' backs as they turned to see the erupting flames 
around their charge. Kondraki emptied his sidearm into the rear 
guard from a safe, hidden corner as Imants dropped the remaining 
ceiling into the corridor with a well-timed grenade in the ventilation 
system. 


The entire attack had been executed flawlessly. 


"That was too easy," said Kondraki, eying the guard's bodies. 
"Jack's not a soldier, but he's also not an idiot." 


Clef nodded. "He probably put 963 on one of the guards." 


"Or he's not here at all." Everyone looked up at Glass, the young 
doctor nervously running his hand through his hair. 


The four of them looked at each other as the alarms started blaring. 


The Present: 


A brilliant flash of light blinded Kondraki as he rounded the corner, 
making the floating images around him shudder as 408 lost 
members of its hive. He fired the pistol over his shoulder twice, 
stopping after he heard a grunt and fall. The storage chamber he 
needed would be nearby, and if he was lucky— 


A second blast of light flew ahead of Kondraki, cutting through the 
illusion and scattering the burned husks of butterflies through the air. 
He slid around a second corner, bringing the pistol up under the 
guard's chin and scattering his thoughts and memories over the 
ceiling without stopping. He leaped through the air as a second 
guard attempted to bull rush him from behind, firing downward into 
the man's lower back as he twisted sharply to avoid another blast of 
light. 


It would have been impressive if he'd left anyone alive to witness it. 


frame remaining in his chair with the skin clinging to it. 


With confusion on how to approach SCP-983 safely, it was allowed 
to sing for roughly another minute before it ceased of its own accord, 
at which point nothing remained of the original recipient other than 
his purely skeletal remains. SCP-983's final verse consisted of the 
single word, “BIRTHDAY”, which it announced joyously before 
doing a single backflip and ringing its bell once. From the bell fell a 
single candy resembling a gumdrop pure black in color. This candy 
was never consumed and was described as being moderately 
entrancing, drawing a person's gaze into it until an outside source 
distracted them. With a number of individuals at the scene and the 
general chaos involving the incident, no single person was able to 
become too focused on the candy and it was safely contained. 


SCP-983 Controlled Activation #32 


During test #32 regarding SCP-983 one test subject 

volunteered for testing as her birthday had approached and she 
displayed qualities unique in comparison to previous test subjects, 
specifically an exceptionally upbeat and excited approach to her 
birthday. is referred to as ‘the subject’ for the remainder of this 
test. 


Without explanation as to what to expect, the subject was given 
SCP-983 as a wrapped present with the prior warning that this 
object sings and it would make for a great birthday video if she were 
to sing along with it. The subject displayed glee and acceptance of 
SCP-983 as a suitable gift when it was unwrapped, and required no 
guidance in singing along with the object as it began. 


The subject went above and beyond the singing requirements 
missing only the first verse to get the words and picking up 
immediately at the second then continuing for a total of forty-five 
(45) verses for a total of forty-six (46) completed. 


During the singing process the subject displayed the expected aging 
process with each verse that passed, but displayed no loss of 
energy or enthusiasm in continuing the songs till their end. The 
subject remained completely unaware of her body’s physical state 
throughout the experiment. 


He found the door and scanned Halifax's card, entering the lab and 
sealing the door behind him. He walked across the room, putting a 
bullet into the forehead of a stunned researcher, and pulled several 
green vials out of a row of test tubes, placing them in his pocket. He 
smiled, running through the rest of the plan in his head. 


Then, he shrugged, muttered "Fuck it" under his breath, and 
reloaded his gun. If he was doing this, he was going to do it his way. 
He was going to have fun. 


Eleven Years Earlier: 


Glass had been captured first. He'd not been trained for any sort of 
combat, so when the hoard of trained shock troops poured into the 
hallway following the explosion, he'd held his hands in the air and 
waited for them to quit beating him into the ground. He heard about 
Clef's capture, how it'd taken them four hours to get through the 
traps he set in his outer office and another two to actually lay hands 
on the man. Imants had managed to hole up in the ventilation 
system for almost two days before they found him. Kondraki had 
actually come quietly, having been found in his office apparently 
doing paperwork. 


Glass heard about the other trials through his guard. Clef had been 
sentenced quickly, Kondraki mere hours later. It was the next 
morning before Imants had been sentenced, as there was 
apparently a fair amount of dissent about the extent to which he'd 
been involved and how much he'd been influenced by his superiors. 
The sentence had been the same, nonetheless: indefinite stasis. 


Glass sat in his cell, listening to the footsteps, trying not to think 
about the stories he'd heard from other people who'd experienced 
stasis. Cold dreams; frozen memories. They could never remember 
what they'd dreamed, only the cold. 


It was the next morning when the guard approached his cell. Glass 
contemplated trying to hit the guard over the head and escape, but 
he knew that he wouldn't last more than two or three steps into the 
hall. He allowed them to cuff him, requested an opportunity to 

examine himself in the mirror, and after doing so, walked down the 


hallway, flanked by the guards. 


A series of blurry and darkened screens greeted him in the 
courtroom; he steeled himself and listened to the charges. 


The Present: 


Kondraki could hear the footsteps charging him, herding him. It was 
the problem with fighting with someone who could effectively create 
a hive mind with the right kind of telepathy. And the Foundation had 
the right kind, especially since they'd cut up 182's and 116's 
respective brains and played around with them. 


He took a short cut he knew he shouldn't, but Jack could go fuck 
himself if he thought that Kondraki would do what he wanted him to. 
He slid into one of the maintenance closets, a place he'd gotten 
used to hiding in over the years, and looked for one of the access 
pipes. He found one marked "Pest Control" and opened the access 
nozzles, filling them with two of the vials he'd stolen earlier. He 
looked around him and the butterflies flitting through the air and 
frowned, muttering quietly under his breath. "I'm sorry." 


He turned back to the door, kicking it open and having 408 project 
an illusion of himself in front of the opening, smirking as a hail of 
gunfire issued from the left. He swung low out of the opening, 
bringing the pistol level and putting a bullet into the neck of both 
men firing, noting as they fell the dangling Foundation symbols 
strung around their necks. ‘Jack,’ he thought. 


Kondraki started running. He'd have to get to the climate control 
quickly, the one for this sector, or the plan would be pointless. It 
wouldn't take much longer, not now. Another turn and then a quick 
shot straight to— 


The bullet tore through his thigh, hollow tip causing more damage 
than he might otherwise have preferred. He fell hard against the 
right wall, having 408 project him falling to the left, and fired a shot 
backwards wildly. He pulled himself further, ripping a sleeve off his 
shirt and tying it around his leg tightly. He could barely feel his leg, 
and he knew that there weren't enough members of 408 left alive to 


cover the blood. If this was going to happen, it would have to be 
soon. 


He struggled forward, smiling as the two symbol wearing guards 
pursuing him put several rounds into the illusory corpse. He took the 
time to turn and aim carefully, putting a shot into both of their heads 
before bringing himself into the climate control center. 


The room wasn't that much different than any one of a dozen across 
Site-19, but this one had the controls he needed. He found the 
Infestation Control Station that had been in place since 4389 had 
been forcibly Neutralized. He looked at the handful of butterflies 
around him one last time and pressed the command sequence, 
releasing the anti-parasitics into the air. 


Glass erupted from the screen as two loud blasts sounded behind 
him, forcing him to roll out of the chair as blood loss made his vision 
swim. He struggled away from the station as a hoard of footsteps 
approached him. 


The pesticide had a faint hint of mint to it, Kondraki noticed, smiling. 
408 died in the air around him, the multiple projections fading with 
them. His leg ached and bled in spite of the tourniquet. 


"You shouldn't have come alone, Konny." 


Kondraki looked up at the handful of men, all wearing the same 
expression, all wearing the same medallion. 


"What makes you think | came alone, Jack?" 


"Bluffing, at this point?" Three men with crests around their necks 
approached Kondraki and kicked him in the stomach. Kondraki 
heard several Brights laugh as the dying butterflies tried to project 
an illusion around the dying, middle-aged doctor. He brought a hand 
out to brush his hair back off his forehead as he looked up at his foe. 


"When have | ever lied to you, Jack?" 


Elsewhere: 


Imants turned the corner, running as stealthily as possible up the 
corridor, ignoring the green, acidic mist the sprayed from the ceiling. 
If the last round of reports from their informant had been correct, the 
package he was looking for was in the second room on the left, 
Corridor 23-B. With everyone going after Kondraki, he shouldn't 
have any problems finding the package. 


As the door slid open, he slowly walked into the room, looking 
quickly to either side for unexpected surprises. He was pleased to 
find none. 


Imants stepped forward, ignoring the new set of erupting sirens. He 
looked down at the red disk and collected it into a cloth, slipping it 
into his pocket. Two sets of plastic explosives later, he left the room, 
running as fast as possible. Kondraki's plan gave him two minutes, 
but he wanted to be further away. 


The Present: 


The mist was beginning to die down as dozens more Jack Brights 
surrounded Kondraki, watching him bleed. A bouncy, black-haired 
woman walked to the front of the crowd. She smiled, 
condescendingly, leaning over the injured man. 


"You've gotten old and slow, Konny. No one would have caught you 
ten years ago." 


He sneered. "No one did." 


She smiled at him again. "| guess you're right. It's a shame really. 
The Foundation could have used you, Kondraki. Your talents. No 
one other than Clef had more confirmed decommissions than you. 
With our new programs, you might have had a place here again." 


"I've not had a place here in a long time, Jack." 
"No, | guess you haven't. Any last requests?" 


"None. But | do have one question," said Kondraki, pushing himself 
up and leaning back against his legs. 


"That's not a request," replied Jack. 
"It's close enough. Humor me." 
"Fine." 

"Is this everyone?" asked Kondraki. 
"What?" 


"Is this everyone?" repeated Kondraki. "Did you really bring every 
copy of yourself to fight me?" 


Bright's eyes narrowed. All of them. 


"Because, Jack, if you did, that was a god damned stupid thing to 
do." 


Kondraki reached into both pockets. He pulled his gun out of the 
first. Out of the second, he pulled a green vial. Forty faces blanched 
in recognition, for the first time noticing the scent of the pesticide as 
the stopper on the vial flew through the air, and the substance 
contained within it splashed on Kondraki's face. Dozens of eyes 
turning to see the butterflies on the ground sparking and twitching as 
they died. 


"A body is a body, Jack. See you in hell, you son of a bitch. All of 
you.” 


Kondraki raised the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. As the 
bullet passed through his skull, he felt an instant of 447's reaction 
taking place. But then, reality was gone, and all that was left was an 
aftermath. 


Eleven Years Earlier: 


"None of you are listening!" screamed Glass, his face shuddering. 
"That's not Jack Bright! Not anymore! It didn't happen all at once! It 
was putting a pebble on the beach. And then another and another. 
Eventually, the whole thing is hidden, and you never noticed!" 


"Dr. Glass, please calm yourself. You've obviously experienced 
some kind of psychotic break—" 


"I've experience nothing of the sort! You don't get it!" he shouted, his 
voice cracking. "It's not his whole personality, not even a big part of 
it. It's inches of the football field. But soon, it'll be worse." 


"Nevertheless, Doctor, you've committed a serious crime, have no 
evidence, and rallied enough of our less... controllable members 
together to convince us you planned nothing less serious than 
another break like the Chaos Insurgency, as Dr. Bright concluded. 
Given your family history, it seems a logical—"