"Bah." Ralph flipped the paper over to the other side. "Let's see what 
we've found so far." 


SUBJECTS OF INTEREST 
Dr. Harry Loser, D-Class Requisitions 
Status: Incarcerated, Site-77 Corrections 


A known turncoat under investigation for corruption and 
misuse of resources for two months prior to Incident 
2322-1501. Made frequent trips between Site-77 and the 
United States. D-Class personnel would have been 
useful in discreetly setting up a conspiracy without 
notice. Currently moved to Site-77 for questioning. 


Dr. Ralph Roget, Interim Site-77 Director 
Status: Alibi Cleared 


Ralph would seem to be a likely suspect, standing to 
become indefinite interim Director of Site-77, along with 
numerous other assets held by his grandmother, Director 
Gillespie. However, the Site-77 total surveillance system 
shows no activity in the 2 months prior to the attack that 
would indicate any suspicion. Loyalty to the Foundation 
has been confirmed. [DATA EXPUNGED}]y. 


Dr. Vang, Dr. , Researcher Claude Dr. 
Eberstrom, Dr. Albertson, Junior Researcher 
Atkinson. 


Status: Under close observation, Site-63, Site-77 


Believed to be the ringleaders in a cell of former 
Prometheus Labs employees responsible for acts of 
sabotage and obstruction Several other individuals 
belonging to this clique are currently under investigation 
for anti-Foundation activity at other facilities. 


"This is it? These are the leads they have? This is nothing." 


"Itis a start... sir. AS you observed, we've only gotten a shoestring 
budget and bottom-barrel tier of personnel to investigate this with. 
It's surprising we got anyone other than in-house security." 
Anderson scoffed. "At this point, just having it be an internal matter 
might be more effective, without any more interlopers getting in our 
way." 


Ralph squinted his eyes at Anderson over the dossier. "| mean, you 
don't have to be so harsh. I'm sure they're perfectly capable of doing 
their jobs." 


Anderson coughed. "Speaking frankly, Ralph, don't you think you 
should be leaving this to the professionals?" 


Raising a finger, Ralph cut him off. "| don't care what you think, 
Anderson. This is outside the realm of your responsibilities." 


Anderson's head snapped up to meet Ralph's gaze. "Are you 
kidding me? My security detail is the only thing holding this place 
together and you're going to give me attitude?" 


"Maybe we can leave you twisting in the wind for awhile, Ted. You're 
the reason we have to do any of this in the first place. Your fail-safes 
were a Safety-fail. The Director almost died because of you." 


Anderson fumed, glowering at Ralph. "... 


"That's settled, then. We're going with the team. Security can help if 


they want to feel good about themselves." Leaning back in his chair, 
Ralph tossed the dossier onto his grandmother's desk. "Alright, | 
think that's everything. You can go, unless you want to bring up 
something else." 


"I'm quite alright." Anderson grunted, stiffly saluting and departing 
with hat in hand. 


As soon as the door shut, Ralph exhaled loudly, spinning in his 
chair. "Hoooly shit, that felt great. Fuuuuuck you, Anderson." As he 
spun, Ralph ran his hands through his hair, his heart pounding. 
"Right on, right on... still got work to do, but still, right fuckin’ on..." 


After a moment, his chair came to rest. Sighing, he sat back up and 
grabbed his itinerary for the day. The glory of his triumph faded 
behind him as he walked out of the office. As he weaved through the 
halls, he considered whether it was wise to antagonize his chief of 
security. Something boiled in the back of his head. His gaze fell on 
to the various staff flowing around him, focusing on them instead of 
this pounding headache... 


"That's four, Ralph." 


"Dangit! You always win!" Ralph crossed his arms, and sat back in 
his seat. "| hate connect four." 


Shirley paused, and then tousled his hair. "You want to know the 
secret to winning?" 


He looked up to her with wide eyes. "! do!" 


Emptying the board, she lifted a red plastic token up to his face. 
"You have to be patient. Place your pieces in response to the other 
person, block them... until they mess up." 


She dropped it into the game board, then another, then another. She 
held out the fourth one to Ralph, who eagerly dropped it in. "YAY!" 


She scratched his head again. In time, he would learn the value of 
games. 


SCP-1501 Containment Area. 


A fat electrician almost knocked Ralph to the ground as they 
reached the SCP-1501 containment area simultaneously. They 
stumbled, and he exchanged a few choice words before he moved 
his attention back towards the Wing-C restorations. 


The reports hadn't done it justice. The console controlling the door 
looked burnt to a crisp. There was dust and a distinct melding of 
sulfur and butane wafting through the air. Several technicians 
crowded around the door, waving equipment that looked like forceps 
attached to a metal detector over the damaged section. 


Ralph tried to imagine how, exactly, this might have happened. The 
power to this entire sector hadn't just been disabled, it looked deep 
fried. Maybe it was an EMP, he mused to himself. Ralph was fairly 
certain that was how EMP's functioned. 


Someone tapped Ralph's shoulder, jolting him back to reality. 


Turning, Ralph recognized the bristled face of Dr. Blast, the 
administrative liaison for Psi-7. A grizzled Foundation veteran, 
missing two fingers and half an ear, Dr. Blast was a go-to expert for 
explosives and explosive accessories. He stood at a slant, opposite 
to the angle his grin tilted across his pockmarked face. 


Ralph observed that he wore socks with sandals. One of those, 
huh? 


Blast shot him a toothy grin. "So, you checkin’ out the damages, eh? 
What I'm supposin' right now is some shaped finangle detonation 
garblankbled up'n there, but the perfung'lar n'security system was 
compromiseds enough t'let the SCP reach the target. Took a helluva 
lot of preparation, let me tell you. Certainly an inside job." 


Ralph paused, attempting to parse what he'd just heard. "... I'd 
guessed as much. Have you found anything new in the wreckage?" 


"Nawp, nothin’ yet. Sure they'll come up with somethin’ soon. I've got 
the samples | need, I'll tell ya how it got managed once | get some 
time to analyze it 'n such." 


continued developing for approximately five minutes (gaining longer 
fingers and toes and larger eyes, while diminishing in stature) until it 
was abruptly consumed by what appeared to be "a very fast, very 
large SCP-682." 

Dr. Light notes that while slightly disturbing, the process was 
"scientifically fascinating, and | wish | could have recorded it." 


Name: Dr. Garcia 

Date: 11/11/2010 

Time: 14:45 

Duration: 25 minutes approx. 

Observed: Environment appears to be flooded, to a depth greatly 
exceeding the altitude of the observation position, with a fluid 
(inferred to consist of liquid methane, based on : 
Neither the surface nor the bottom of the "sea" could be observed, 
and lighting conditions were very poor. A group of manta ray-like 
bioluminescent organisms, each exceeding 40 meters in body 
length, swam past the observation point at one point. 


Name: Agent Poe 

Date: 03/20/2012 

Time: 17:40 

Duration: 15 minutes approx. 

Observed: A huge and oddly distorted human face that emerged 
from just above the viewpoint. It stared directly at the agent for 
several minutes before [DATA EXPUNGED]. A number of human- 
like creatures were seen to form out of the remains, all of which 
seemed to be aware of their observer. 


Name: Dr. Chesnokov 

Date: 05/15/2012 

Time: 12:12 

Duration: 38 minutes approx. 

Observed: A single male Pan troglodytes (common chimpanzee) 
appeared from the south-west, into the view of the observation point, 
carrying the following: 


° -brand smoothie cup, in left hand, with a violet liquid 
visible through transparent straw. 

¢ Nondescript smart phone, in its mouth. 

* Novel, entitled , under its right arm. 


"Okay. Okay. Cool. How long's it going to take to get that done?" 


Blast shrugged. "Haven't even looked at 'em yet, | was just comin’ 
back here cuz they told me | should talk to you, and your guys told 
my guys you'd be here, and-" 


Ralph nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Hey, listen- do you have any 
kind of wild hypothesis, or ideas, or anything about this? Anything at 
all." 


Blast scratched his head, and small chunks of something dropped to 
the floor. "Hard t'say. | figure maybe the last time somethin’ on this 
scale, but, this was a lot higher, mind you, was maybe when cap'm 
Rex tried shootin’ an O5." 


"... It's that bad, huh?" 


Blast frowned. "I just said it wasn't, didn't I? It's just, uh, the same 
kinda ballpark-type thing. Site hasn't been demolished but this 
assassin-type stuff always get taken seriously." 


"Right, sure." Ralph paused as he watched the technicians work. 
They were wearing HAZMAT suits and jamming some kind of 
electrical apparatus into the damaged section of wall. "I just want to 
get a little bit of direction here, y'know?" 


Blast flipped over a few pages on his clipboard. "I imagine the first 
thing ye do is talkin' to that Loser fellah." 


"Is that some kind of euphemism, or are we thinking of the same guy 
here?" Ralph knew a Dr. Loser. He'd been a D-Class requisition 
officer when he was a kid, but that was years ago "Is he mixed up in 
this somehow?" 


"That's what they're thinkin’. He's bein’ held in the brig if you want to 
go talk to him. I've got a lot to do here, so..." 


"| can take a hint." Ralph turned around, trying to walk off decisively 
while also searching his brain for where the brig was located. 


"Take a left and the elevator'll throw ya all the way down!" Blast 
called after him, waving a gloved hand as Ralph went. 


Ralph followed his advice. The elevator was a lonely one. 


Researcher Office Complex. 


Shirley could feel Ralph's clinging grasp tighten as the aptly named 
Dr. Loser entered her office. He'd never liked the doctor, and Loser 
had done himself no favors with his fixation on her grandson. 


Loser sat down in the chair across from her, folding his hands in his 
lap. "Good afternoon, Director." 


"Yes, hello." Shirley slid her dossier across the desk. "These are our 
personnel requirements for testing this quarter." 


"Personnel requirements? That's what they're calling it now, huh?" 
Loser flipped through the dossier, pretending to read the 
requirements. "How many'a these am | going to be gettin' back? Any 
of 'em?" 


Shirley knitted her eyebrows. "All of them. This is only non-invasive 
testing." 


"Sure, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. I'll get my people to 
look these over, sure we won't have any problems." 


The grip on her pant-leg tightened as Ralph leveraged his grip to 
peek around the desk. Loser took notice, and waved to him. Ralph 
quickly ducked his head back underneath the protective mahogany 
fortress. 


"Aw, poor kid's shy!" Loser smiled, watching to see if Ralph would 
pop his head back out. 


"ls that going to be all? Shirley leaned forward in her seat. "I have 
other appointments today." 


Loser rose, grabbing the dossier as he headed to the door. "Yeah, 
yeah, | hear you. We'll be in touch..." 


Brig, Sub-Basement Sector V 


The Site-77 brig hadn't moved on much from its World War II roots. 
Rows of small, metal cells punctuated by the occasional higher- 
security inmate. Ralph was escorted through the cramped stone 
halls until he found himself looking at Loser splashing water in his 
face. 


Turning towards Ralph, Loser wiped his bald dome dry with a towel. 
"Hey, look who grew up. How've ya been, Ralphie?" 


Sighing, Ralph put his hands in his coat pockets and approached 
the cell. "Fine. | heard you might've tried to kill my Grandma. What's 
up with that?" 


Loser placed his hand over his heart. "No, | swear, | was far too 
busy with my own machinations to be bothered with your Gram. If it 
hadn't been her guys who were closing in on me, it woulda been 
someone else." 


"Cut the Hannibal act, dude." Ralph leaned on the concrete next to 
the cell door. "You're mixed up in this somehow. You're too crooked 
not to have a piece of it." 


"That's your logic, Ralphie? That because | was 'bad' | had to have a 
finger in every evil pie being baked in this place? You know, let me 
tell you something." Loser wiped his hands off in the towel. "I've not 
exactly been subtle in my doings here. | made a lot of mistakes. But 
for some reason, even though | was under heat for ages, | never got 
grabbed." 


"What's your point?" Ralph inspected Loser. "You're terrible at being 
corrupt. We already knew that." 


"My point, Ralphie, is that someone was makin’ sure | didn't get 
fingered." Loser tossed the towel to the ground and walked up to the 
bars of his cell. "| think | made an excellent distraction so someone 
could do what they had to do." 


Ralph looked Loser in his pockmarked face and watched as he 
wiped his nose. "Plausible enough, | guess. Anderson's men have 
done worse. Who would've been pulling the strings here, in your 
estimation?" 


Loser snorted, and snot retreated into his nose. "Not sure. Someone 
powerful, definitely. Enough to do things without even the Director 
knowing. You know anyone in the Foundation like that?" 


"| can think of a few." 
"Cool. I'm glad | could help ya out, Ralphie. You're a good kid." 


Ralph grunted, and rose from his seat, "Sure. Hopefully | don't need 
to hear it from you again." 


"“OOoooh! Fiesty! | like the man yer growing up into, Ralphie!" 
Throwing open the doors and striding out, his voice called back, "Oh 
my god, shut up!" 

Somewhere in the past 


The mound in the earth resembled a pig's hind end sticking out 
towards the sky. Ralph scrambled to top it, as Lis pulled at his 
ankles. 


"Stop it!" he squealed as she pulled him into the grass and began 
her ascent up the hill. Ralph scrambled up again after her, punching 
and kicking as he went. 


They scrambled with each other, gleefully fighting as only children 
can. Dirt and bugs and the grass stained their clothing, as did their 
own sweat and blood. 


Finally pulling himself up over her, Ralph grabbed fistfuls of dirt as 
he pulled his way to the top of the mound. He stood atop it, 
overlooking the entirety of the front yard and cheered." 


Then Lis pulled him back down and the whole thing started over 
again. 
Brig, Sub-Basement Sector IV 


Ralph looked down through the two-way glass, where his half-sister 


was quietly sitting on a wooden stool. A man was interrogating her, 
politely. Her gaze was robotic, and fixed. For a few moments, she 
would regain lucidity, and the color came back to her face, before 
she plunged back under the surface and stoic sameness slid back 
across her face. 


"What's wrong with her?" 


Dr. Bonjour was standing behind him, looking over notes. Ralph had 
read over her file, she had been a teacher before she came to the 
Foundation. In years prior, she might have been scooped up to work 
with Alpha-9, but several years prior she'd been involved in a breach 
and rumored to be sympathetic towards the anomaly. Right now, 
she was flipping to a bureaucratic document detailing how ruinous 
his sister's condition was. 


"Some sort of cognitohazard. Her results are all over the place. 
Sometimes she's hot, sometimes she's cold. We're still trying to 
work everything out." 


"Can you do anything for her?" 


Bonjour paused. "Maybe. The devil's in the details with mental 
faculties. We have to pick through piece by piece to make her right 
again." 


"Just... try, okay?" Ralph blinked a few times, and stared back down 
at Lis. "| don't have a lot of family left. I've got enough pressure on 
me already without having wo torry- to worry about something like 
this."