The light fell upon a door on the other side of the room. She began 
crawling over the shattered cars and debris, cursing as she felt her 
shirt catch on a piece of loose metal. Soon her arms and hands 
were covered in black dust that made her skin blend in with the 
surrounding gloom. When she touched the doorknob, it left a dark 
handprint. 


Wait, came the warning, before she could open it. Turn around. 


A chill ran down her spine. Even before looking, she knew what she 
would see. But she obliged, moving to face the new presence. 


Seven feet tall at least, the figure stood silently, hunched over. It 
was almost human in shape, the difference betrayed only by its 
height and an extra joint in its disproportionately long arms, which 
hung limp at its side. Its skin looked grey, but she knew in better 
light conditions it would have been dark blue. Its head was like a 
furless canine, skin stretched so tightly that every ridge of its skull 
was visible. A long, black sheet of cloth was its only clothing, wound 
around its body in an unfathomable knot. Its eyes were grey. 


The creature didn’t move. Were it not for the slight flutters of the 
cloth in the wind, it could have been mistaken for a statue. Amy 
turned back to the door. The creature wasn’t important. If it had any 
interest in taking action, it hadn’t shown it in their two previous 
encounters. Let me know if it does anything funny. 


As you wish. 


The door swung open, bringing with it a blast of chill wind. Amy 
yelped and took a step back, shivering in her thin t-shirt and jeans. 
After a moment, she peeked her head back out. 


The exterior was just as dark as the inside of the garage. The 
summoned light illuminated a snow-covered landscape. Cars, some 
whole, some wrecked, dotted a multi-lane road stretching up a large 
hill. The buildings around it were decrepit, caved in. Those still 
standing looked strained, as if they might collapse at any minute. 
The weight of the world seemed to press down on every available 
surface- just looking at it made Amy feel heavier. She stepped out. 
Her foot brushed aside the snow, and she realized what it truly was. 
Ash. 


The creature had moved. It now stood atop a far away car, just at 
the edge of her light. Its head turned to follow her movement as she 
trudged forward. The same as their previous two encounters. She 
didn’t know what the thing was, or where it came from, and the 
Witness was just as puzzled. But it didn’t seem dangerous. 


You know, she said as she hopped over a pothole in the road, you’d 
think eventually I’d be jerked out of existence and deposited in a 
place that was actually nice. I’m getting tired of being thrown into 
one shithole after another. 


In purely statistical terms, it is unlikely. There are few worlds 
that are capable of sustaining long term life. 


That’s a cheerful thought. She stopped in front of a building that had 
once been a store. The front window was smashed in. Display 
mannequins lay in a heap like a grotesque, plastic orgy. Clothes 
littered the ground around them. Spying a jacket, she climbed in. 


Try to understand the positive angle. You are fortunate just to 
be in an area that you can survive in at all. 


Thanks, that really brightens up my day. She slid the jacket on. The 
sleeves went well past her hands, and the bottom went almost to her 
knees. She glanced up. The creature stood in the corner, watching. 


simply first recognized there. 


The infection increases the host's lactation rate, or if the host is not 
lactating causes it to begin doing so. It appears that any mammal is 
susceptible to infection regardless of gender. The initial symptoms of 
the disease have a rapid onset but are relatively minor: swelling of 
mammary gland tissue (causing breast development in males) and 
increased sensitivity of the nipples in both males and females. On 
average a human of either gender in this stage of the disease will 
produce between 0.5 and 1 liters of milk per day. If this milk is 
extracted on a regular basis, with milking intervals of no less than 
once every eight hours, the disease appears to remain stable 
indefinitely in this state. Milking can be performed with a standard 
breast pump. 


If a host is not milked adequately, mammary glands continue to 
develop. Left unchecked, this development will diverge from normal 
human growth patterns: rather than remaining confined to a single 
pair of breasts, it will begin spreading down the front of the chest 
and abdomen. Additional pairs of nipples will develop along the way 
and the nipples will lengthen and thicken dramatically. The eventual 
result resembles an enormous fleshy udder stretching along the 
entire front of the torso, with between six and eight pairs of teats. A 
human at this stage can produce upwards of forty liters of milk per 
day. This is the maximum extent to which the disease will progress 
in humans. 


The metabolic demands of such a large and productive glandular 
system are considerable and a human victim in this state will find 
him or herself preoccupied with eating most of the time. With his or 
her energy fully devoted to milk production the victim will often suffer 
from a general state of mental dullness and docility. Surgical 
removal of mammary tissue is a temporary measure as the disease 
is able to cause regrowth even if all of it is excised. 


« SCP-685 | SCP-686 | SCP-687 » 


| believe it is important to view things realistically. 


Right. |t was awkward having to have to push her sleeves up as she 
walked, but it was better than being cold. She was climbing out the 
window when something caught her eye. In the middle of the road, a 
small wind-funnel of ash had risen. A blue glow lay in road in the 
middle of it. 


She approached it and knelt down, holding up an arm to keep the 
batter of ash from blowing into her eyes. The glow was coming from 
a small, smooth stone that lay on the asphalt. A symbol that looked 
like a Japanese character pulsed in its center. She reached her 
hand towards it, and felt warmth spreading, as if standing next toa 
small campfire. 


What is it? 


I... | believe it to be a sending stone. But that is not possible. 
For such a thing to be- \t was cut off by a long, piercing shriek. 


The creature crouched in the window, its claws extended, howling 
upwards. After a moment its head dropped, and its eye fell upon her. 
And, for the first time ever, it moved. It bounded upwards, leaping 
almost ten feet into the air. The ground cracked as it landed. Before 
she had time to react it was racing towards her, its long arms 
swinging, eyes gleaming. It leaped forward again, claws raised. 
Without thinking, her hand closed upon the stone. 


And she fell back into the Library. 


Gregor started back as she popped back into existence and 
slammed into the floor. Li stood, leaning over the table to look at her. 
Thalmos leaned against the wall, unfazed. 


“What was that?” said Li. 


Amy pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the scrapes and bruises on 
her arms. “How long was | gone?” 


“A minute, perhaps,” said Li. Amy was impressed. She could barely 
hear any trembling in their voice. “But where did you go?” 


“Maybe I'll tell you if | figure it out.” She was about to say more, but 
was stopped by the feeling of a weight in her pocket that hadn't 
been there before. Pulling it out, she realized it was the sending 
stone. It glowed in her hands even more intensely than it had on the 
street. 


If the three of them had been mildly surprised to witness her 
disappearance, seeing her with the stone was a total shock. 
Gregor’s mouth fell open, random syllables of babble spilling out. 
Li’s eyes went wide. The figure swayed back, and for a moment, 
Amy thought they were about to pass out. Thalmos made a small 
noise and stepped towards her. She jerked the stone away from 
him. 


“How did you get that?” he whispered. 

“| found it,” she said. “What the fuck is it?” 

“The Queen must see this,” said Li. 

Thalmos gulped, nodded. Without a word, he darted from the room. 
Amy glanced at Li. “So, uh, what does it do?” 

Everything. Potentially. 


“Your friend is correct.” Li squirmed, as if just standing in the stone’s 
presence was a struggle. 


“You can hear it?” 


“| hear many things.” Li began to pace the room. “How did you 
obtain this? No sending stones remain unaccounted for.” 


“| told you, | just found it. It was lying on the ground.” Amy looked at 
the stone, turning it over in her hand. It didn’t look that important. 
Other than the glowing sigil, it looked like a uncommonly ugly rock. 


She discovered it while temporarily being transplanted into 
another reality. 


“Oh?” Li stopped pacing and looked up. 


Amy frowned. This was not something she had wanted to reveal. 
“Yeah. It’s something that’s been happening recently. I’m not really 
sure why.” 


She attempted to travel through realities by riding a fragment of 
a broken universe. As a result she has become unmoored from 
traditional ontology. Parts of her remain scattered throughout 
the multiverse. Occasionally she is called to them. 


Jesus Christ, would it ever take a fucking hint? 
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That.” 


“I see,” said Li, looking thoughtful. “I’ve heard of such things. | 
assumed it to be baseless rumoring.” 


“Oh yeah, me too,” said Amy. “It’s why | never felt like trying to jump 
between universes before this.” 


Li ignored her. “But still, there are precious few universes that hold a 
sending stone, and all are heavily guarded. Unless you walked into 
a throne room or dragonkeep unmolested...” 


“I’m telling you, it was just lying there.” 


There was a slamming noise as the Queen threw the door open. 
Without waiting for a reaction she said, “I hear you may have a way 
to find my Sister.” 


“Indeed, my Queen,” said Li with a nod. 
“Let’s hear it then.” 


Li pointed to Amy. “The girl has found a sending stone. A filter for 
warping ritualistic power in ways that defy limitation. We should be 
able to use it to establish contact with Rupinder and your Sister.” 


“Should?” 


“A mechanism cannot work without the appropriate operator, my 
Queen.” 


The Queen looked between them, thoughtfully. After a moment of 
thought she reached a conclusion. “What would we need to do?” 


Amy stood before the doorway, clutching the stone in her palm. The 
only illumination in the hallway was the faint glow of the stone’s 
rune- it seemed to cast more light than physically possible. The teal 
glow stretched to the very edges of the room. She clenched her fist 
around the stone. It was warm, and as her skin enclosed around it, 
sent electrical surges through her arm, into her chest. They weren't 
strong enough to hurt. They were almost pleasurable, in fact. 


She let her hand fall open, and the stone’s light danced in 
appreciation. As she watched, its tones shifted, lightening and 
darkening in a slow rhythm. Perhaps it was trying to communicate. 
She got the feeling that she was touching something alive when she 
held it. That she had been joined in the room by a third presence 
looming just above her. But every time she turned her head to 
search for it, she saw nothing. 


You said | could do almost anything with this. 


A family once ruled a planet for thousands of years through the 
power of a single sending stone. 


How did it end? 
They met someone who had two. 


Amy went silent, gazing into the stone. The world felt calmer when 
she was near it. The chaos of her life was being nudged aside, 
leaving her, for the first time, to enjoy peace. It was the first time she 
could remember experiencing such a feeling. Maybe she had, long 
ago, when the world had a simpler place empty of magic and 
Foundations and worlds beyond her hometown. With a sigh, she slid 
the stone into her pocket and opened the door. 


The room was the same as they had left it- a single brown table with 
a mirror placed in the center. She picked it up gingerly. It was 
heavier than it looked. Turning it over in her hands, she saw a 
fragment of writing in a language she didn’t know. 


Who has the truth, has victory. An ancient proverb from 
another world. 


She nodded and flipped it back to look into the glass. The girl she 
saw within it looked like a stranger. The appearance was familiar, 
yes, but it didn’t seem to be her. It was like looking into the face of a 
long-lost family member. There was some genetic resemblance, 
some similarities in the contours of the face, but only just enough to 
be eerie. Had she really changed so much in the last months? 


Gripping the metal frame, she focused on her intent. The glass 
remained still, showing only an image of a very foolish looking girl. 
She focused harder, trying to form the image perfectly in her mind, 
to shut out every distraction that might disrupt the link. The picture in 
the glass shuddered. Ripples begin to forming in it, pushing outward, 
at first slowly, then speeding up until the glass hummed with the 
force of the vibrations. The mirror began to tremble, and she gritted 
her teeth, clamping down her grip. It rattled until she was sure it was 
going to leap from her hands and smash itself against the floor. Just 
before she felt her fingers slipping the mirror stilled. A new image 
burst forth from her reflection. 


A dimly lit room. It took her a moment to realize what it was. The 
kitchen had been remodeled almost completely. The old-fashioned 
tile and counter her father hated had been stripped out and replaced 
with more modern decor. Her parents sat at the table, eating. Her 
mother said something to her father, and he burst out laughing. 
There was a third place at the table, its plate half finished. Her 
brother, probably, running off in the middle of dinner to pursue 
whatever idea was currently latched into his brain. The whole family 
had learned long ago to tolerate his random digressions. Even if 
they’d tried, there was no way to stop him once he had an idea 


going. 


She watched her parents talk and felt a tightness in her chest. 
Years. It had been years since she had seen them. Are here they 
were, laughing and eating a looking so... normal. As if nothing had 
changed. As if she had never been there at all. But what had she 
expected? For them to still be miserable after four years? Did she 
want them to be unhappy? She’d spent every moment since her 
capture worrying about them. So why did she feel this way now that 


she knew they were fine? She placed the mirror back on the table, 
trying to still her trembling hands. 


Do not judge yourself so harshly. It is difficult to control the 
storm of one’s emotions, in times like these. 


So you're a therapist now? 
! have rather extensive knowledge of the subject. 


Whatever. She willed herself to calm down. Now wasn’t a good time 
to lose focus, not when there was still work to be done. She took the 
sending stone from her pocket. It glowed brightly as she moved it 
towards the mirror. When she set it on the glass, its light erupted 
into a prism of colors, illuminating the room like a dance club. She 
watched as the lights pulsed, then stilled, fading back into the warm 
blue glow. Laying her hands on the mirror’s frame, she conjured a 
new image in her mind. 


This time the image came instantly, in a flash of heat that almost 
made her jerk her hands back. When she looked back at the glass, 
she saw the Queen. She was bent over in pain, surrounded by 
bright light. But no, she looked closer, and realized it was the Sister, 
her clothes ratty, smeared with blood and dirt. She stood in a dark 
field, a starry night sky above her. As Amy watched she rose to her 
foot, holding her hands up towards the lights. Around her the air 
scrunched together, as if someone had grabbed a handful of cloth 
and squeezed it together. The lights around her recoiled. She 
stumbled, almost fell, gasping.