She felt the Way's core begin to collapse in on itself — she felt the 
end of the world begin — 


She saw it all in her mind, the hole tearing in the middle of reality, all 
of Earth collapsing into the hole left in the middle of Site-17. That 
vision of her drifting off into space... 


And she said, "No." 


She reached into the forming hole in the world, into the heart of the 
suffering, broken Way, and she pulled it inside out. She pulled the 
Neverwere right out of it, and into... 


Into essence. Into existence. 
Inside Site-17, the earth and sky shook for nearly a full minute. 
And then all three of them, Sigurrés, the Neverwere, and the broken 


Way, disappeared into thin air, leaving only dust and quiet behind. 


Campbell pulled herself up off the ground once she was sure the 


quake was done. She glanced over at Cross, with a questioning 
look. 


"I'm alright," Cross said. "Just a flesh wound, as they say in the 
movies. Sealed it up for now. Gonna leave a nasty scar." She 
laughed, wincing halfway through. "I can see why it had to be you." 


"What?" 


"Rita would've shot any of my people on sight. Any of your people 
would've shot me before she did." 


"Still not getting what you mean," Campbell said. 


"The augurs said that | had to approach you," Cross said. "That's 
why | tried so hard to convert you. Why | went to you today. Not just 
affection. The augurs said that if you were here, | might survive, and 
if you weren't, | wouldn't." She looked down at her side. "This bullet 
would've been in my head if you hadn't come. Thank you." 


"Augurs said to approach me?" Campbell said. "I thought Fate 
wasn't a real thing. No gods, no plans, right?" 


"Right." Cross chuckled. "Nothing's meant to be. Just mathematical 
predictions and knowledge of possible futures. Just... playing the 
odds. Turned out alright, didn't it?" 


Cross hauled herself to her feet and walked slowly over towards 
Rita. She started at her sister's face for a long moment, at her wide- 
open, staring eyes. 


"Paralytic spell," Cross said. "Will wear off in a couple hours and 
she'll be fine. Well... physically fine.” 


She reached down and carefully closed both of her sister's eyelids. 


Campbell said, "They're gonna establish security pretty quickly now 
that the reality benders are gone. You have to get out of here." 


"What about you?" Cross asked. 


"What?" 


Cross pressed an object into her hand. Campbell looked at it. A 
small green card, with a tiny moving holographic arrow dancing on 
its surface. 


"It's a temporary Library Card," Cross said. "Site-17's East Gate is 
breached. That thing blew a hole in it when it broke out. There's a 
Way in the forest outside. " 


"I'm a Foundation member," Campbell said. "The Library won't let us 
use Ways to enter it." Foundation members could try to enter the 
Library, but the Library just rerouted them to very unpleasant places. 
"Even if | could use the Way, security will just follow me—" 


"It's a special Way," Cross said. "L.S. commissioned it from the 
Library, as a reward. It's impossible for Foundation members to 
physically enter. Except you. Because you'll have this Card." 


"But you—" 


"| have my own paths out,” Cross said. "| can only take them alone. 
So you have to go alone too. The arrow on the Card will guide you. 
You'll see a crook between two trees with a bit of blue spray-paint 
on it. The Way will automatically open for you." 


Campbell felt troubled. 


"Listen," Cross said. "This will probably be your only chance. If 
you're ever willing to take a leap of faith... now's the time to leap." 


Cross held Campbell's gaze for a long second, then — surprisingly, 
without more words — turned and hobbled off for the opposite door. 


Campbell stood still for a moment longer. 


Then she made her decision, and headed for the East Gate. 


Alison took the scenic route of out Site-17's personnel office 
building. It took her about twenty extra minutes — twenty dangerous 
minutes, during which Site-17 inched closer and closer to sealing 
their numerous security breaches. 


But it was well worth the effort, she thought, when she finally found 
the right office. The office with the name plaque reading, simply, 
"Doctor Gears". 


She'd expected the office to be empty. It was not. 


Alison held her father's gaze for a long moment, before either of 
them spoke. 


"Alison Chao," Gears said. His voice betrayed no emotion. 
"Yes," Alison said. 

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. 
"Temporary office, right?" Alison asked. 


"Yes," Gears said. "| was assigned here in anticipation of dealing 
with a security breach. Your security breach, | presume." 


"I'm on my way out," Alison said. "Unless you have a method by 
which you are able to detain me." 


"| do not," Gears conceded. 
Alison held out a long-stemmed black flower, in offering. 


"It's an anise rose," Alison said. "Doesn't exist in this particular 
universe. Should give you some good data. You should take it." 


After a moment, Gears took it. 

"Don't lose it," Alison said. "It's extremely expensive." 
Gears contemplated the flower for a moment in silence. 
"Goodbye, Doctor Gears," Alison said. 

"Goodbye, Alison Chao," Gears said. 


Campbell stumbled through the woods east of Site-17, following the 
tiny arrow on the card. She hadn't even known there were woods 


here, not until today. She'd only ever seen the outside of the front 
gate, surrounded by concrete and iron, and then only for the few 
seconds before she'd been bustled out or in during her arrivals and 
departures. 


She felt dizzy. Insane. She still only half believed she was doing 
what she was doing. 


Defection. Defecting. 


She wasn't as in shape as she could be. Her limbs screamed at her 
in protest, telling her to stop running. At this point, fear was driving 
her on more than anything else. 


Maybe it's not too late, she thought. But, no. She'd just seen the 
Serpent's Hand save the world. How could she go back the 
Foundation now? 


A little map showed her that the entrance to the Way was just 
ahead. It did not show her the sudden steep slope before it. 


Campbell went tumbling. 


She managed to catch herself halfway down the slope. She picked 
up the dropped Library Card. It was bent. 


She unbent it. There was a crease through it now. That was 
worrying. 


Campbell made the rest of her way down the slope more carefully, 
covered in mud and sticks. Now she properly looked the part, she 
thought inanely. Fugitive from the Man. 


She reached the bottom of the slope and found the trees with the 
blue spray paint. She stood in front of them expectantly, feeling a 
little foolish. 


Nothing happened. 


She got up closer to the tree. Feeling even more foolish, she put her 
hand on the fading spray paint. Then both hands. Then waited some 
more. 


Still, nothing happened. 


She pulled the Library Card out of her pocket, waved it in the air, up 
and down, around and around, feeling sillier by the minute. 


She examined at the Library Card. The little arrow had disappeared, 
but that wasn't surprising. The crease looked the same. She flipped 
the card over. 


Oh. 


Little holographic letters had appeared on the back of the Card, in 
tidy small print. Your Card is damaged and cannot be read. Please 
return to the Library for replacement. Thank you for your Patronage. 


Campbell laughed. 


Then she laughed again. And kept laughing. She turned around and 
sank to the ground, her back to the blue-spray-painted trees, still 
laughing. 


"Jesus," she said aloud. "After all that. Just... Nothing." 
"Shame," a voice said from amongst the tree trunks. 


A man stepped out from the shadows. John Peters. MTF Tau-9 local 
section leader. 


"Was really hoping that would work out," Peters said. "For your 
sake." 


Campbell just stared. 
"Well?" Peters asked. "Nothing to say for yourself?" 
"You knew I'd defect," Campbell said. 


Peters chuckled. "I give you credit for not trying to hide it. Like | 
always tell people... it's about courage. Shame it's coming from 
you." 


"How long did you know?" 


Peters glanced to the side for a moment. "We knew Cross would 
target you from the moment she showed up. We knew it was never 
gonna be poor Rita." 


"Oh?" 


"Unfortunately, we didn't know why she was targeting you. Hell, we 
still don't. We tried a whole lot of junk that didn't work. You 
remember those questionnaire lists. That was supposed to induce 
some kind of memetic trigger, | think. Didn't work too well. Or at all. 
Memetics is fucking bullshit. 


Campbell found herself wishing she had a drink. If she was about to 
die anyway, may as well be dead drunk. Ha. Accidental pun. 


"Since we had to throw you to the lions anyway," Peters said, "we — 
well, | — | just hoped you wouldn't fall for all that shit." 


"What's to fall for?" Campbell asked. "Looked to me like the 
Serpent's Hand just literally saved the world. It was pretty 
convincing." 


"Oh, c'mon, Campbell," Peters said. "The world isn't so fragile that it 
needs some snake-worshipping nutjobs to save its ass every fuckin' 
Tuesday. | guarantee you that if they hadn't been there, we'd be just 
fine. The Foundation always figures a way out. That's why we're still 
here." 


"Weak anthropic principle," Campbell said. "Conditions that are 
observed in the universe must allow the observer to exist." 


Peters laughed. "Man, that Cross girl. She really did a number on 
you, didn't she?" 


"| guess so," Campbell said. "How come it's just you here?" 


"There was a whole MTF section stationed here, but then the breach 
happened. See, | wasn't even here, but | got to thinking... if /were 
gonna defect, when would | do it? And..." 


"You knew they'd let me into the Library." 


"Yeah. We had a plan to piggyback. At least get a bug in there on 
you. Set up eventual entrance." Peters shrugged. "That's all garbage 
now, of course. For old times’ sake, I'm gonna do you the favor of 
not taking you back to the Site. You ain't got any anomalous 
protections, and | really hate torturing old friends." Peters raised his 
gun. Aimed it at her head. "Any last words you want me to pass on?" 


"Yeah," Campbell said. "Yeah, | do. | have a confession to make." 
Peters raised an eyebrow. "And that is?" 


"| think the Foundation can go straight to hell," Campbell said. She 
flipped him off with both her middle fingers. "Nothing personal. Just 
asking you to pass it on." 


Peters chuckled. "| guess there are worse last words," he said. He 
pulled the trigger. 


Campbell waited, watching the gun fire. 


Strange. The gunshot seemed to be happening in slow motion. The 
whole world had slowed to a crawl. 


Is this what it's like to die? she wondered. Kinda cool, | guess. All 
things considered. 


Then she noticed the light glimmering behind her. The light of the 
Way opening. 


She turned. Beyond the Way's light, she could see... tables. Books. 
Stacks and stacks of books. Books lined up to high heaven. 


The Way was open. Saving her. 


And Kendra Campbell realized that she was no longer a member of 
the SCP Foundation. 


Okay, she thought to herself. Guess it's not time to die yet. 


She walked through the Way, and into the Library. The Way closed 
behind her. 


Back in the forest, the bullet carved out a path in the crooked trees, 
ricocheting across trunks before harmlessly burying itself in a pile of 
mud some distance away. 


"Well," Peters said to the empty forest. "Alright then." 


Alison reached the Hand safe house, thirty minutes behind 
schedule. 


She walked in on Joanna Cross having her torso wrapped in 
bandages by an annoyed-looking Septima. 


"You're late," Cross said. 
"Who shot you?" Alison asked. "Dr. Campbell?" 


"Nope. She saved my life, actually." Cross winced as Septima 
wrapped another bandage a little too tight. "My sister shot me. Rita." 


"Shit," Alison said. "I'm sorry. | told her to go help you." 


"| thought you might have," Cross said. "Don't worry about it. Maybe 
there's still a chance. | mean, she did fail to kill me. So there's that." 


"Not giving up on her, huh?" 


"Not any sooner than you're giving up on your dad." Cross half- 
smiled. 


"Fair," Alison said. "What happened to Campbell?" 


"She made it to the Library," Cross said. "We'll head over there ina 
bit, give her a welcoming party. When I'm, you know. Less horribly in 
pain. What did you do with the Witch Child?" 


Alison smiled. 


Rita Butler awoke in the medical ward. 


The paralysis was still taking its time wearing off. But she managed 


to prop herself up and look around. 


The ward was swarming with activity. She'd been relegated to a 
corner stretcher, probably because the doctors didn't know what 
was actually wrong with her. 


The Foundation didn't deal in magic, after all. Not at this clearance 
level. 


She could call out, she thought, with enough effort. But she wasn't 
sure what the point of calling out was. 


A woman walked by with an open, friendly face that Rita recognized 
from Tau-9. She briefly debated calling out for her. Just for the 
company. But... she couldn't remember the name. Adele? Lily? Jill? 
...and it didn't matter anyway, the woman was heading for another 
bed, enthusiastically grabbing the hand of another woman lying 
there waiting. 


Rita wondered if her sister had survived. She remembered those 
last moments, before she'd made the final decision to pull the trigger 


No. There was no final decision. It was always going to pan out that 
way. That was how things had to have gone. She was sure that 
Joanna knew that, deep down, too. 


Acceptance is its own kind of courage, she told herself. It felt hollow. 


Rita Butler lay there long into the night, on her stretcher in the 
corner, alone. 


In a maternity ward not so far away from Site-17, in the world of the 
mundane, a newborn baby took in its first breath of air. The 
quickening. The moment when, metaphysically speaking, the soul 
enters the body. 


The baby had matted black hair and bright brown eyes. It had red 
baby gums and pliable baby fingers and soft baby skin. It had 
cartilage and tendons and bones and blood and a mind. 


finding out who owned it before, thanks to a string of reports of jade 
statuettes going missing when a ring matching SCP-714's 
description was in close proximity to them. What a coincidence, 
mm?" 


"Perhaps SCP-714's curious regenerative and size-changing 
capabilities stem from, for lack of a better term, ‘assimilating’ other 
pieces of jade? Analysis has shown that SCP-714 is much higher 
density than average jade, but is apparently no heavier. Could be 
some form of extradimensional storage, as weird as that sounds? 
Sure is one way of carrying the weight of the world on your 
shoulders, heh." 


Entry of 27-05-20 

"Okay, so a bit more luck on the tracking front. It was originally 
found in the late 1800s — that is, around the 1870s to 1880s — by 
an archaeologist who traveled around the world, seeking jade 
artifacts, such as statuettes and figurines that might be found in 
tombs or forgotten temples. He was hunting a tomb said to be rich in 
them... of course, he eventually found and entered it, finding only 
SCP-714 in terms of jade artifacts. Puzzling. Very few historical 
documents describe anything that matches SCP-714, so it's hard to 
say how old it really is. Vexing." 


"The archaeologist's personal diaries have not survived the ages 
well unfortunately, and his handwriting leaves much to be desired, 
so it is difficult to tell whether or not he wore SCP-714 and 
documented the effects of it whilst it was in his possession, or 
whether he never considered wearing it. What | can make out is that 
he quickly disposed of the ring after a number of his collection 
pieces went 'missing' after spending the night in proximity to the 
ring, with no signs of break-in or theft..."