“What is this place, anyway?” 


Once, it was a world that held many prosperous civilizations. 

Or so it is believed. There are very few historical documents 
that have been recovered. What has been found indicates that 
they lived peacefully with each other. What became of the world 
is unknown. Only small strips of land have been discovered in 


any expedition. There are remnants of cities, in the shallower 
waters, but exploring them has proven difficult. 


“Who’s the woman, then?” 


A particularly dangerous permutation of a particularly 
dangerous person. One certain dwellers of the Library felt 
needed to be controlled. Not without justification. 


“Are they sisters or something?” 


They are two instances of the same person, from two different 
universes. It is a rare phenomena, for even two identical to 
exist in different worlds. Of her, there are hundreds. The reason 
behind it is a mystery. 


Amy sighed. She roped a braid of hair around one finger. “You think 
it was a mistake to let her out.” 


!am ambivalent. There are far worse beings than she, unlikely 
as you are to meet them. 


“Right.” 


Amy lifted her scarred arm. A dull pain ran through it, even after all 
these weeks. She’d asked Rupinder about healing it. He’d given a 
cagey bullshit answer and changed the topic back to overpowering 
the minds of fish. 


With the quick, precise movements that were beginning to become 
second nature, she dashed off a series of coral-pink runes in the air. 
They glowed faintly. An insect crawled through the light. 

There were three runes, in a combination she hadn't tried before. 
The first represented sparks. Rupinder had claimed it was from a 
hidden civilization beneath the Earth. She wasn’t sure she believed 
him. The second was simpler, a single, notched-back line indicating 
movement. For the third, a sign of balance. 


The first of the three rules she’d established was a simple one. By 
resting more than she needed, she could store up energy. Then, 
when she needed to cast, this store of energy would be the first area 
tapped to fuel her work. It wasn’t terribly efficient- an hour of 


deliberate rest would be enough to move a medium-sized box, 
perhaps- but it was better than having to improvise. 


She stared at the rite, thinking. She focused her mind further, and it 
flared bright enough to illuminate half the deck before disappearing. 
A second later, a sphere of flame like a miniature sun erupted from 
the air. It floated in front of her, motionless. 


She gritted her teeth and swept her hand to the left. The orb was 
jerked over, as if tied to the arm. She motioned to the right, and the 
flame followed. 


Amy let herself grin. The ritual was one she’d been tinkering with all 
day. Summoning the fire was easy enough. Moving it wasn’t much 
harder. Limiting it to a stable, spherical area was the problem- fire, 
as a general rule, didn’t enjoy being contained. The more an action 
lay contrary to an object’s nature, the more difficult it was to attempt. 
She’d gone through two dozen combination of runes before 
discovering this one. 


As she began to rotate it over the deck, the breeze surged. A spray 
of mist blew against her face. The fire flickered and disappeared. 
She looked toward the wind’s source, but with the flame gone it was 
impossible to see anything through the murk. The wind swept over 
her, whipping her hair across her face. 


She was beginning to draw up a ritual for light when lightning 
shattered the sky. In the moment of illumination, she saw a swirling 
mass of clouds. As soon as the first flash disappeared, another bolt 
struck, and she got another look at the stormfront, the clouds looking 
like a funnel piercing the waves. Ten seconds later the thunder hit 
like the sound of a nuclear explosion, loud enough to leave her 
eardrums ringing. Another bolt struck, and in the light, she swore 
there was a face in the clouds. 


“What the fuck is that?” 
It appears to be a godstorm. 


“A godstorm,” she said. “Okay. Nothing ominous about that.” 


There was the clatter of a door being thrown open, and light flooded 
the deck. Rupinder, the twin women, and the Nish-Hyet stumbled 
onto the deck. They stared at Amy, then the ocean. Lighting flashed, 
and Rupinder sucked in a breath. 


“Hurry,” he said. “Fortify the ship. Before it is too late.” 


Rupinder set about casting layers of protection around the ship in 
the form of a swirling, rainbow cover. Like a massive soap bubble. 
Amy scrambled, doing what she could, but compared to him that 
wasn’t much. To her surprise, the woman they’d rescued joined in, 
moving from railing to railing, drawing runes Amy couldn’t make 
heads or tails of. After the whole perimeter had been marked, she 
fell back against the rail, gasping with exertion. The Queen helped 
her to her feet. 


They watched as the lightning grew closer, each strike revealing 
more of the cloud-wall and sending ripples of thunder towards them. 
Amy looked at her fellow travellers. They stood in silence, 
expressionless, watching the stormfront. Rupinder stood with his 
arms crossed, clenching and unclenching a fist. 


The wind was threatening to drive her back now. She gripped the 
rail to keep from falling, gritted her teeth. Raindrops pelted 
Rupinder’s shields, dissolving into mist as they passed through. 
Standing in only jeans and a t-shirt, assailed by the wind and water, 
she cursed the rite that had taken her winter clothes. 


Lightning rippled, thunder erupting before the bolt could vanish. The 
boat rocked with the noise. Amy stumbled, fell to her knees, pulled 
her way back up. The Sister had been tossed as well. The Queen 
was pulling her back up. The transformed Nish-Hyet paced back and 
forth, gnashing their teeth. Their claws raked nervously at their skin. 
The ship trembled in the wind. The gale swept over her like a river of 
needles. Mist soaked her skin. Another flash of lightning. The clouds 
were close now. So close. She turned, saw the Queen say 
something unintelligible. 


And the storm struck. 


It was over before it begun. She felt the torrent drive into her. Then 
she was flying through the air. Her back cracked against something 
solid and dropped into the water surging across the deck. There was 
barely time to stand up and see the others, fighting against the gale, 
before her knees buckled and she fell back into the rapids. The rails 
slammed against her side. Blindly she felt, grabbed on, held as hard 
as she could. Rain battered her face, but she managed to squint into 
the storm. Silhouettes moved on the deck, dozens of them, 
impossible to discern. Green light flashed. In its brief existence, she 
saw the Sister and Queen crouched, staring in horror at something 
outside Amy’s view. The Sister had her arm outstretched, thrusting a 
spear of color forward. Then it went dark. 


Amy screamed, yelled, called for help, but even she couldn't hear 
her cries. Her grip was loosening. She could feel her fingers slipping 
from the metal, the wind pulling at her feet. Desperate, she tried to 
focus her energy, tried to form any sort of rite, any bit of magic that 
could save her. But all that came was a sputter of sparks. 


Her final thought before being ripped away from the ship was / can’t 
believe this is happening again. 


She fell, and before consciousness faded, saw a light shining 
through the water. 


“Get up.” 
Amy groaned. Rough hands grabbed her and yanked her to her feet. 
“We don’t have the time to lay around.” 


Steadying herself, Amy opened her eyes. The Queen was standing 
next to her, gripping her shoulder. The woman glared at her. “How 
long do you intend to stand around like an idiot?” 


The beach they stood on looked like it had been plucked from one of 
those tacky postcards tourists sent back home from vacation, all 
windex-clean skies and silk-smooth sand and perfectly manicured 
shoreline. To her right, the beach melded into a jungle so green the 
color seemed to bleed into the air around it. 


She placed a hand on the Queen’s wrist. “Get your fucking hand off 
me.” 


The Queen dropped her hand and turned away. As she began to 
walk off, Amy called out, “Hey, what the hell is going on?” 


The Queen kept walking down the beach, towards a small black 
backpack. 


“Where are we?” 


The Queen reached the backpack and knelt to sling it over her 
shoulders. Looking back at Amy, she said, “Ask your friend.” 


Amy gritted her teeth. Well? 


We are still in the same universe. After falling unconscious in 
the water, it seems you instinctively transported yourself and 
several nearby objects away. Including her. 


Awesome, now instead of of drowning I’m only stranded ona 
deserted island in another universe. Great job, subconscious me. 
She walked to where the Queen was standing. The woman had 
taken a grey, cylindrical object from her bag, and was twisting its top 
half. There was a click a red light flickered to life on the side. 


“What’s that?” asked Amy. 
“What has the Witness told you?” 
Amy scowled. “Uh, not much.” 


“Don’t talk to me until you have something useful to say.” She went 
back to fiddling with the device. 


“Hey, how about you-” Amy started, then stopped, sighed. It would 
probably be more useful to yell at the sand. / thought you said this 
planet was mostly flooded. 


It is, as far has been explored. This area must have escaped 
notice. |t paused, then said, Reality is less stable here. The fabric 
of the universe around this island is tearing. 


That sounds bad. 


It can be. It could also be quite beneficial, if one knows how to 
push it properly. As I do. 


She hated when it tried to sound smug. Beneficial enough to not 
leave us stranded on a tropical island on a different planet? 


Possibly. 
Amy relayed the information to the other woman. 


“And what is it expecting to do that will make walking into an area of 
unstable ontology a good idea?” said the Queen, frowning. 


It is possible you will be able to mold it into a Way. 


The Queen had taken a pistol from the backpack. She slid the 
magazine out, examined it. “I’ve been told that’s impossible.” 


In most circumstances, it nearly is. However, when you have 
the right person, using the right workspace, with the right 
instructions, it becomes merely unlikely. 


The Queen reinserted the magazine. “Too risky. We stay on the 
beach.” 


“And do what?” said Amy. “Make a coconut village?” 


“If Rupinder and my Sister are still in this world and alive, they’re 
more than capable of finding us. We wait.” 


“And if they’re not?” 


The Queen closed the backpack. “Then we try your suicide mission.” 
Throwing the bag over one shoulder, she stood. “We need to make 
camp. I'll gather supplies. You stay here.” Watching her walk into the 
forest, Amy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. The way the Queen 
spoke, she didn’t seem to favor the odds of being rescued. 


Amy began pacing the beach. The tide had lowered since she’d 
woken up, leaving a strip of damp sand that fizzled slightly as the 


before being pulverized. It recorded a constant temperature of 
12.1°C for the entire descent, and the probe's laser rangefinder 
detected an increase of 0.92 m per 100 m descended. Due to the 
likelihood that further exploration using similar methods will not be 
able to progress further, and that reinforced probes are unlikely to 
add significantly to the data known about SCP-685, further 
exploration of the pit is discontinued as of //20 . 


Note: SCP-685 is not a disposal pit. We don't know where it goes, 
we don't need to be telling anyone on the other end that we're here, 
and we won't need our garbage boomeranging back at us years 
from now. -Dr. Roger 


Document #685-D: Analysis of all rock debris obtained from 
SCP-685 reveals no anomalies, and is consistent with terrestrial 
origin. Analysis of the organic debris reveals that, while DNA was 
unable to be isolated from any sample, in roughly 63% of the 
samples obtained mass spectroscopy detected the pervasive 
presence of non-canonical amino acids, including [DATA 
EXPUNGED]. Only a handful of known Terrestrial organisms use 
non-canonical amino acids, and of those each only uses one. 


Petri dishes with media incorporating the non-canonical amino acids 
was used to grow Cultures taken from all objects retrieved from the 
pit. Organisms cultured exhibited [DATA EXPUNGED] and are 
resistant to all known antibiotics. To date, none have been found 
that survive autoclaving or incineration. 


Additionally, Carbon-14 dating of the organic debris exhibiting 
terrestrially-normal amino acid compositions reveals that none of the 
debris is less than thirty-five years old. This is unsurprising in light of 
the dessicated hexapod corpse observedon February _ before 
the construction of the automated retrieval system. 


« SCP-684 | SCP-685 | SCP-686 » 


water left it. Curious, she scooped up a handful. At first, she thought 
it was ants crawling through it. Looking closer, she realized the 
grains themselves were moving. She turned her hand over and 
dumped the sand back into the water 


It was beginning to grow dark. For a moment, the only noise was 
that of waves lapping at the sand like a starved animal. But even 
that was only a flimsy mask, a vain attempt to hide the silence that 
settled around her as she stood on the beach. It was the same 
silence that had filled her cell, late at night, beneath the footsteps of 
the guards and hum of electricity. The silence that had followed her 
for years before she ever even heard of the Foundation. It was the 
silence of being trapped. Of separation. Of knowing that no noise 
she made would be heard, no plea paid mind. 


The sound of clattering wood snapped her back to awareness. The 
Queen had dumped a pile of logs onto the sand. She wiped her 
hands, turned back to the forest. Amy watched her walk away. What 
kind of woman was she? How did someone like her end up giving 
orders to someone like Rupinder, or being spoken of by the Witness 
with something that was almost fear? The Sister had been casting 
spells right alongside Rupinder. Could this one do the same? 


But she hadn’t performed any magic while Amy had been around. 
And there was what she had said of Rupinder and the Sister, that 
“they would be capable of finding them”, as if she couldn't do the 
same. What was the story here? 


The Queen arrived with more wood, which she began to arrange 
into a makeshift shelter. In the middle of the work, she glanced at 
Amy. “What has Rupinder taught you?” 


Amy moved in closer. “A whole bunch of stuff. What do you need?” 


Pointing to a spot on the sand, the Queen said “We need a fire. One 
that won't burn out.” 


Amy nodded, thinking. The spell was simple enough. The problem 
was cost. She didn’t have an energy saved up after the crash. 
Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue. On the ship, supplies were 
more than excessive for such purposes. Here, the only things in 


excess seemed to be sand and boredom. “What do you have in your 
bag?” 


“Ammo. Some food. Extra clothing. Tape. Water. Rope. Books. 
Various electronics.” said the Queen, without looking from her work. 
“You’re not using any of it.” 


“ve gotta use something.” 


“Improvise,” said the Queen. She wrapped a coil of rope between 
two branches and cinched it tight. A wooden shelter just big enough 
for a person was beginning to take shape front of her. 


Amy looked around. Got any ideas? 
Yes. But | am curious to see what you come up with.