Aleksander was well aware what the plan was. He knew exactly how 
it was supposed to go down. By now, he should have already done 
the staged interview, they should have fed him his lines, and he 
should be working for them. 


Being locked in solitary confinement was not part of the agreed plan. 
Just as he was thinking of all of the brilliantly terrible ways he could 
execute the doctor that did this to him, he heard the door open. 


He sat up from his lone mattress, and saw a man standing in the 
door frame, clad in a blue suit. 


Finally. 
"About damn time. I've been in here three days." 


The man in blue nodded slightly. "Apologies. As much as | hate to 
say it, we are a very large facility, and sometimes..." He kicked at 
the floor. "Sometimes we misplace people." 


Aleksander stood up. "Whatever. Let's just cut to the script and get 
filming." 


The man nodded. "If you would just follow me." 


Interviewed: Aleksander Foxx 


Interviewer: 


Foreword: Aleksander Foxx is a Marshall, Carter and 
Dark operative who has been working for the past six 
years under the code name "Moss Heart." 


<Begin Log> 


: Aleksander Foxx. Is it true that you work as an 
operative for Marshall, Carter, and Dark? 


Aleksander Foxx: Yes. | worked for three years as a 
security officer protecting their... merchandise before | 
was Offered a position in the Huntsmen program. 


: And what exactly was the Huntsmen program? 
Aleksander Foxx: Originally? 
(Aleksander Foxx tilts back in his chair.) 


Aleksander Foxx: We acted as tour guides and armed 
escorts for clients who wanted to go on monster hunts. 
Eventually, the program was phased out, due to client 
casualty rate being so high. 


: So then you returned to regular duty as a security 
officer? 


Aleksander Foxx: No. Once a Huntsman, always a 
Huntsman. We were called that because we were the 
best — we took out anomalies like you guys take out test 
subjects. 


: Could you give me an example? 


Aleksander Foxx: Example? Sure. Budapest, 2006. | 
killed a cancer. Big thing that kept growing more and 
more body parts on top of it's already existing ones. We 
called him Goliath. Cut him to pieces, burned and salted 
the Ashes. Hell , I'm still having trouble washing him out 
of my coat... 


: That's enough. If you were so combat effective, 
why was the program phased out? 


Aleksander Foxx: Because monsters and cocky rich 
kids don't mix. 


: Alright. So, what did you do after the Huntsmen 
program was canceled? 


Aleksander Foxx: We were all spread around various 
parts of the company. I, personally, was moved to the 
wet-working department, and spent another three years 
killing rich people in exchange for the money of other rich 
people. 


: You don't speak very highly of your organization. 


(Aleksander Foxx snorts, leans forward, slamming his 
chair to the ground) 


Aleksander Foxx: Why would |? Marshall, Carter, and 
Dark made a joke out of my skills. I'm a damned good 
assassin, but the work is boring. | want something with 
some actual meat to it. Which is why | willingly 
surrendered to your organization. 


:...Sorry? 


Aleksander Foxx: You are going to hire me. You've 
been planning it the moment | got captured. Go ahead, 
make me an Offer. 


: I'm not authorized to discuss any of this. 


Aleksander Foxx: Then I'll wait here while you go check 
on that. 


( leaves. 15 minutes pass before returns.) 


: ...We'd like to offer you triple whatever Marshall, 
Carter, and Dark was paying you in exchange for 
permanent employment at our organization. 


Aleksander Foxx: Agreed. | only have three requests 
and two questions. 


: Let's hear them. 


Aleksander Foxx: Firstly, I'm not one of your blasted 
SCPs. I've spent enough time in cells. 


: Agreed. You will be free to come and go as you 
please, like the rest of our staff. 


Aleksander Foxx: Secondly, | need an assistant. That 
should go without saying. 


: Consider it done. 


Aleksander Foxx: Thirdly. | had a crate of weapons in 
the warehouse. Did you get them? They were 
collectibles. Irreplaceable. 


: We did. They're being stored in our armory. 


Aleksander Foxx: Excellent. Now, first question: What's 
the nicest private school in the area? 


: ...!'m sorry, but why exactly do you... 


Aleksander Foxx: My daughter. She's six and an 
absolute sweet-heart. Would you like to see pictures? 
Never mind, they're in my coat. Just forward a list of local 
private schools to me when you get the chance. 


: ...Alright. You said you had another question? 


Aleksander Foxx: Oh! Right! Tell me, I've been dying to 
know... 


(Aleksander Foxx stands up) 


Aleksander Foxx: What exactly do you have planned 
for me? 


<End Log> 


It was 7:00 PM when Lucille's plane finally landed. Aleksander had 
arrived an hour before, just in case his daughter arrived early. When 
his daughter saw him, she dropped her suitcase, let go of the flight 
attendant's hand (much to her terror), and sprinted towards her 
father. 


"Daddy!" she yelled, before being gripped in a massive bear hug. 


"Hey, sweetie!" Aleksander cracked a huge smile. "How was the 
flight in?" 


"Good! The nice airplane lady let me have two whole cookies by 
myself!" 


Aleksander laughed, as he picked her up onto his shoulders. "That 
sounds yummy! But you ate your supper too, right?" 


"Yup \" 
"Even the vegetables?" 


The young girl suddenly looked very down-trodden. "Not al/ of my 
vegetables. | didn't like the broccolis." 


Aleksander put her down and patted her head. "That's alright. Plenty 
of time in your life to eat your broccolis. Now, go grab your suitcase 
and say thanks to the flight attendant. Daddy wants to show you his 
big-new house, and tell you about his awesome new job." 


Pythia's Wing 


"You want to bring back Omega-7. What did you expect?" 


Ten smiled uncertainly. "Not bring back," she said. "Resurrect. Ina 
new form. Better." 


The oracle's laughter vibrated in the air, personable yet inhuman. 


This was not a good sign. 


Technically, Ten and her allies had not acted incorrectly by starting 
the Alpha-9 project without explicit approval from the rest of the 
Council. 


Technically. 


Ten and Nine had come to see the oracles together. The oracles 
were each SCPs in the technical sense, but, like all Black Box 
SCPs, they had no Special Containment Procedures files. No one 
below the Council and their Staff even knew they existed. They had 
no numbers, only descriptors. 


The oracle Ten intended to see was "The Steel Man." 


Ten said little as they made the long trip in the quiet railway car. She 
gripped her tablet computer harder than usual. An alien moon shone 
above, and unfamiliar stars glittered in a black sky. They rode 
across the long salt flats of the in-between places, their destination 
away from reality and time. 


Nine didn't object to her silence, and for this, Ten was grateful. 


The black sky lightened, and the unearthly dawn came as they 
reached their destination. Ten and Nine disembarked and stood in 
front of the vast glass Archive that housed the oracles, a complex 
that hung from the sky like a spiderweb. Only the entryways touched 


the ground. 


The oracles' white-robed guardians came out to meet them. They 
were ever-silent, with no mouths. Their left hands were golden 
chains, attached to gleaming lanterns. They led Ten through the 
halls of the frosted-glass structure to the steel man's chamber. 


Through the translucent walls of the structure, Ten could see vague 
impressions of white-robed guardians moving like ghosts through 
the maze. In the adjacent waiting room, a blurred shadow that was 
her assistant, Salt, paced back and forth. A gallery of shadows 
lurked in the adjoining rooms — other oracles which Ten had 
deliberately denied herself clearance to see. 


The chamber was an atrium on the edge of the complex, looking out 
over a lush valley too garish to ever have existed on Earth. Atop a 
low platform decorated with intricately carved ivory inlays crouched 
a monstrous, many-armed hulk, huddled underneath a white and 
gold robe that filled the room to its corners. He had many faces, and 
each one was a mask carved from ivory, jade, redwood and 
obsidian. 


The only other thing in the room was a single chair carved from the 
bones of a primordial beast, which Ten took. 


"Welcome," the steel man said. "Speak." 


The oracle's laughter vibrated in the air. 
Ten said more. 
He laughed more. 


"You're laughing at me quite a lot," Ten said. "Perhaps this is why no 
one comes to talk to you." 


"| exist to serve," the steel man said. "As with the other oracles, | am 
yours to heed or disregard as you please." 


"Then speak." 


"Very well. You are the newest organ of the Overseer Council. 
There have been an uncommon number of additions to this Council 
in the last twenty years. Your friend, Nine, being one of them." 


The steel man lowered his gaze. Ten followed his line of sight, 
through the glass floor. 


Nine stood in the valley below, on a mountain slope close to the 
bottom of the glass building. She was alone, leaning on her walking 
stick. Perhaps she was just waiting. 


Ten wasn't familiar with all the oracles here, which wasn't unusual 
for a Council member. Even when you could know everything, you 
knew there were some things you didn't want to know. She'd 
considered and dismissed the idea of visiting one of the more 
powerful and more alien oracles. 


Nine had always thought different. 


"She is more human than you are," the steel man said. "The most 
human of all of you." 


"We're all human." 


"In the technical sense." Another chuckle. "She is your strongest 
ally. You realize the ramifications, yes? You are the only member of 
the Council newer than her." 


"I've been in the Foundation longer than she has." 
"She is an exception. She was chosen to be an exception." 


Nine was unique. She had discovered the existence of the 
anomalous without ever finding out about the Foundation, and been 
recruited into the Overseer Council without ever rising through the 
Foundation's ranks. The Council had needed a new Nine, and badly 
wanted an outside perspective. 


"They have invested much in her," the steel man said. "They will not 
be eager to admit their experiment failed. But you? They can get 
another Archivist, just like when they executed your predecessor. 
Perhaps your assistant, Salt. Or that exceptional Director Maria 


Experiment 702-023 


Name of Researcher: Mr. Mox 
Interacting Personnel: D-70223 
Object Traded: Rare Magic: the Gathering cards. 


Object Received: Rare Pokemon Trading Card Game cards. 


Experiment 702-024 


Name of Researcher: Mr. Mox 
Interacting Personnel: D-70223 
Object Traded: A USA $20 dollar bill, 
Object Received: 10 British Pounds 


Notes: / think he stiffed me. 


Experiment 702-025 


Name of Researcher: Dr. 
Interacting Personnel: D-48892 
Object Traded: one (1) adult male dormouse 


Object Received: one (1) glass aquarium, 0.5 meters by 0.25 
meters, approximately 0.25 meters tall. Cover is easily removable 
wire. Rodent bedding covers the bottom. 


Notes: Not sure why he would give a cage for a mouse | just gave 
him. 


Jones..." 


Ten winced. "Then perhaps my foolishness will benefit another." 
She looked down at Nine. "Is she waiting for an oracle?" 


"She is speaking to one." 
"Where?" 


"In the mountain." The steel man's highest face smiled. "The Oracle 
of Earth speaks to very few, and not for long. She seems to favor 
Nine. That is perhaps, not surprising.” 


Ten nodded. 


"We digress,” the steel man said. "You began this project on your 
own. With allies, yes, but very few. Why?" 


"| didn't think it would come to a Council vote," Ten admitted. 
"And that is why you are here now." 
"Yes," Ten said. "I imagine this is why you're an oracle." 


The steel man chuckled approvingly. "Tell me. What were you 
thinking, when you chose to do things this way?" 


Ten hesitated. "I was thinking that it was better to ask for 
forgiveness than permission." 


"Your immediate predecessor would have agreed," the steel man 
said. "Allow me to suggest that this is why he had the shortest 
tenure of any Council member within my memory." 


Ten thought of SCP-003. "| am not even close to that foolish," she 
said. 


"Indulge me," the steel man said. "Do you know the last time that the 
Council lost this many members within twenty years?" 


"The Foundation Civil War," Ten said. 


"Yes. The creation of the Chaos Insurgency by rogue Overseers. 


You are aware the precise details? Of their motives?" 
"Of course. The man who was Seven—" 


"Come now, come now," the steel man interrupted. "Yes, Seven 
provided their rhetoric. Seven crystallized their operations and 
provided the name. His rhetoric was, and is, very effective, as the 
large number of promising young recruits snapped up by the 
Insurgency proves. It is true that Seven was unhappy and wished for 
a loosening of protocol, but Seven did not start the Insurgency. In 
fact, Seven never planned to defect from the Foundation at all.” 


Ten was quiet. 


"You do not need me, to learn these things," the steel man said. "All 
the records are open to you." 


"I've been preoccupied," Ten said. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm 
still human." 


"Ah yes," the steel man said. "| imagine you have been preoccupied 
indeed. | would envy you, were | human. As the Archivist, you 
possess knowledge even the other Council members do not share. 
Each time the world has ended. Each time it was been restored. 
One could even call you an oracle yourself. And yet, here you are." 


His masks stared into the distance. 


"| came here to hear your perspective," Ten said. "So, how would 
you characterize the beginning of the Insurgency?" 


"Her number was Eleven. She was possessed of far too much 
knowledge for her own good, even for one of you." 


"What happened?" 


"She became consumed with a singular idea. She wished for the 
Foundation to increase its research into the anomalous." The masks 
looked meaningfully at Ten. "She was called 'The Warden’. She 
developed many of the Foundation's early containment procedures. 
She felt that we were handicapped by limiting ourselves to 
containment without understanding. It was her argument that this 


was not truly containment at all." 


"| see where you're going," Ten said. "Those do resemble the 
principles behind the Resurrection Project." 


"Eleven also wished for us to reclassify humanoids into a separate 
category. She lobbied for our soldiers and researchers to work with 
humanoid anomalies, as equals." 


Ten hesitated. "Alpha-9 isn't nearly so radical." 


"Perhaps it is closer than you wish to admit." The steel man spread 
his arms. "Eleven forced the issue at the Council, as you have done 
now. When the others would not be swayed, she and her allies 
defected from the Foundation." 


"| would never consider starting a second Insurgency." 


"Wouldn't you?" He let the words linger. "Of course you wouldn't. But 
they might not believe that." All the masks focused on Ten. "Pit the 
Foundation against the Global Occult Coalition. Who will win?" 


Ten stared at the steel man. This wasn't the first time she'd heard 
the question, but never before so directly. 


"Will you not answer?" 


"Well, the Coalition has a far greater number of active paramilitary 
assets. They have direct diplomatic ties with UN member nations, 
giving them freedom of movement through those nations. They are, 
however, hampered by their role as a UN-affiliated peacekeeping 
and reaction force. They have far fewer paranormal assets, but they 
are more likely to make use of them. We have the defensive 
advantage, they have the offensive advantage.