“Putting something there is the kind of mistake I'd make if | was 
trying to get at us with an incomplete set of archives.” Sophia's 
phone rang, despite the fact that she'd disabled it. She looked at the 


caller. 


“Light,” Barculo said in monotone, “I know that some of these sites 
are yours, and you have to get to stabilizing, but some are mine too, 
and we need to start tracking them down. | don't think they're going 
to the same place, but there must be a link, so we'll start pulling-” 


“Actually,” said Sophia, “I'm going to start planning for a second 
wave, possibly worse than this one. | would start now. And I'm sorry, 
| have to take this.” 


She stepped out of the conference room. All down the hall, LEDs on 
security cameras and recorders were going out. Then she picked up 
the phone, and let it sit between her hand and her ear, and inhaled 
for a moment before speaking. 


“Are you really her?” she asked. 


“Yes,” said the Administrator of the SCP Foundation. “SCP-027, | 
think, is about to break containment." Fingers clacked on a 
computer keyboard. "As it's your site, please do anything humanly 
possible to prevent this from happening.” 


“Of course,” said Sophia automatically. 
The call quit. 


She started dialing. 


« Revelation (Part 3 of 3) | Canon Hub | Awakenings » 


Due to SCP-605's ability and its presumed link to multiple 
disappearances of civilian and military assets in the past, the use of 
unmanned aerial vehicles to "feed" SCP-605 has been approved to 
reduce the chances of publicly known incidents. 


Addendum 605-01: Analysis of recorded data regarding SCP-605 
have shown a minute, but detectable increase in the calculated 
mass of SCP-605, with spikes consistent with known dates on which 
SCP-605 entered an active phase. Request for further study and 
possible countermeasures have been filed and are awaiting O5 
approval. 


« SCP-604 | SCP-605 | SCP-606 » 


Awakenings 


They came from beyond the world, from over the world, from under 
the world. They came from inside the stars and from behind the rain. 
They came from the known lands and they came from the secret 
places of old. 

The vast ones who drank of the nebulas, the small ones who did not 
care what happened beyond the banks of their rivers, the ones who 
bathed in the light and the ones who watched from the shadows, the 
ones who loved us and the ones who forgot about us, the ones who 
hate us now and the ones who love us still, the ones who sung with 
the rats and the ones who swam with the leviathans, they came from 
far and near, they came one and all. They came to end the world. 


The machine labeled SCP-720 put the last finishing touches on the 
final model planet in its most recent solar array. It trained its claw 
upward, as if looking once more, wistfully, to the stars. 


SCP-720 had no name, no thoughts the way humans would account 
for thoughts, and certainly no internal mechanism for vision. But you 
would have to say that it could 'see’ nonetheless, for what else could 
you call what it did when it directed its mechanical parts towards the 
sky? 


Either way, this time, SCP-720 'saw' something different. Something 
prowling between the beautiful orbs and masses of color... 
something looking towards Earth. Looking back towards SCP-720. 


A sea of glimmering eyes. 
Words formed in the not-mind of SCP-720. 
Today is the day your prayers will be answered. 


A long moment passed, and then a single other word formed in the 
not-mind of SCP-720, and vibrated there for a long time. 


Awaken. 


And so it did. 


What appeared to be a vast wall of fur approached the Earth, sank 
through the sky, and landed on the ground, to find everything it had 
loved gone. Her fellow gods were on their way, but as always, she 

had arrived first, a mother eager to be reunited at long last with her 
children, now that the time of the end had come. 


She had been gone for thousands and thousands of years. She had 
gone as her children had first looked to the stars, and it was then 
that she had known that they would be alright. 


And now there was no trace of them. 


Their beautiful webbed cities, their songs that had filled the planet 
with joy, their vast works of art to stun even a god's eye - gone. All 
gone. All that remained were their bones, and living on top of them, 
the hairless apes that they had once kept in zoos with other animals, 
now risen to dominate the planet. And they did not even remember 
her children. They moved through their lives like ants, building their 
wooden and metal hives over the graves of her greatest loves. This 
was sacred ground they defiled, and they did not know or care. 


Ur-An-Uum raised her head to the sky and cried a rending wail of 
anguish. 


She mourned for a long time, a noise heard on high, her wails 
causing earthquakes and tsunamis across the planet, weeping for 
her children. She did not quell her sorrow. The only things left to die 
from her pain were the furless apes. This was to be a time of joy, but 
there was only sorrow left. She would not be comforted, for her 
children were no more. 


And then... 
She felt something. The tiniest glimmer in her mind. 


And she felt hope. 


Ur-An-Uum called out for her children, the creatures that she now 
knew the furless apes called a sea of derogatory names, the least 
insulting of which was "SCP-1000". 


Her children answered. 


The entity awoke with a start, not knowing where it was, or, on 
reflection, who it was. All it knew was that The Time Had Come. 


It rose from its grave, shattering a mountain as it did so, and hurtled 
itself into the atmosphere, trying to get its bearings. 


The entity gazed across the world. Everything was different. 
Humans - they were everywhere. Not just scattered here and there 
across the great expanses, but living in massive villages, villages 
the likes of which the entity had never seen. 


Not that it was complaining. Humans had fed it well with their 
worship and blood sacrifices in the olden days. Now that there were 
so many more humans, why, the entity would certainly soon be 
satiated beyond compare. 


This was fortunate, because it had been asleep a very long time, 
and it was very hungry. 


The entity cast about for a place of power. And found far too many. 
Far more than there had ever been before. It did not understand 
what to make of this knowledge, but, again, it did not complain. It 
only needed to pick one place of power for now, a simple one, to 
give it initial shape again. It chose the nearest one. A "Foundation 
Containment Site". Yes, this would certainly do. The humans had 
already invested this place with much of their energy. It must be a 
sacred place to them. An Es See Pee, they called it. 


The entity would dine well indeed. 


It wasted no more time, but hurtled directly into the place of power - 
a body of water, it saw - and landed inside it with a massive impact. 
It drank in the place of power and everything in it - the water, the 
local wildlife, the human-made metalworkings and detritus - and took 


the shape of a massive titan be-straddling the countryside. Man- 
shaped, so that the humans would understand the form to which 
they would soon direct their hearts and their prayers and their blood 
and their pleadings for mercy. 


The eldritch entity that had merged with SCP-765 opened its mouth. 


"QUACK," it said, its voice reverberating across the land. 


First the rooster of crimson crowed, then the rooster of gold, then 
the rooster of soot-red. 


A bloodstained watchdog bayed in its cave. Its eons-old bindings 
broke, and it ran free. 


The sound of a great trumpet echoed across the Earth, with no 
apparent source. People stopped in the streets in New York, Delhi, 
London, Cape Town, and listened in confusion. 


The Midgard serpent J6rmungandr stirred in its slumber. The shifting 
of its form caused tsunamis along several coastlines, demolished a 
number of villages in Greenland. A massive wolf, visible from 
hundreds of miles away, stalked across Denmark, accompanied by 
an army of burning giants. 


Ragnarok had come. 


The Administrator swung around in her chair to face the man who 
had just entered the room behind her. 


"You knew | was coming," the man said. "You let me in." 
"Yes," said the Administrator. 


"You know you're dreaming, I'm sure," the man said. "And of 
course... you also know who | am." 


"SCP-990," the Administrator said. She looks at him again. The suit, 
the bowler hat... or was that a fedora? "Nobody," she said. "But 
most importantly..." She picked up a file folder on her desk. "The 


first Administrator." 
The two Administrators looked at one another. 


"| saw you in the crowd in the Valley," the current Administrator said. 
"| knew to expect it, but... tell me it isn't true." 


"I'm sorry," the first Administrator said. "It's true." 


"This betrays everything we stand for," the current Administrator 
said. "You said it once yourself. We secure. We contain. We protect. 
We keep humanity out of the dark. For you to become one of these 
things..." 


"| also said that the Foundation must stand in the dark, so that 
humanity could live in the light." The first Administrator hesitated. 
"Please believe me, if there had been any other choice to make, | 
would have made it. This has to be done. | hope you'll see why, 
soon." He hesitates. "| came here hoping to recruit you, you know. 
You and yours. | am sorry that | cannot tell you more, but | hope you 
will consider my offer." 


"Tell me something," the current Administrator said. "This 
‘Harbinger’. Who are they?" 


"| don't know," the first Administrator said. "It's true that | anticipated 
this for a long time, but... this chain of events blindsided me too." 


"| know it's one of yours." The current Administrator's voice sounded 
impatient for the first time. "Who is it? Someone loyal to you, of 
course. Only someone with level 5 clearance could have pulled this 
off, so that does narrow the list down. Charles Gears? Jack Bright? 
Alto Clef? Kain Pathos Crow?" She paused. "! know it's not Sophia 
Light. Frederick Williams? Chelsea Elliot? Hell, Simon Glass?" 


"| sincerely do not know," the first Administrator said. "Listen. The 
O5 Council is already compromised. SCP-343. And... well, you 
know the rest. I've cut off their communications, but they won't wait 
long to move. We should be in this together." 


"| agree," the current Administrator said. "| know enough to know 
you don't have to do this. You'll have a compulsion, but I'm told it's 


minor. Easily overcome. Perhaps will not even return." 


"The world must end," the first Administrator said. "Help me end it in 
the only way the Foundation — the only way humanity — will come 
out on top. There are more world-enders coming. You already know 
that dozens are already awake, and that hundreds soon will be. 
More and more will be waking up, the longer the Lock is open. And 
worse, more will arrive. The ones not already on Earth. This is the 
only way forward we have." 


"Then we do not have anything left to say to each other," the current 
Administrator said. 


"lam truly sorry to hear that," the first Administrator said. 
"As | am truly sorry to Say it," the current Administrator said. 


The two Administrators nodded at each other, respectfully, and 
turned away from each other. 


The first Administrator walked away and dissolved into the 
dreamscape. The current Administrator turned back to her dream- 
desk and waited for the sedative she'd taken to wear off. 


Then she woke up, and got to work. 


« Stormfront | Canon Hub | The White Horse (The Conqueror 
With The Golden Crown) » 


The White Horse (The Conqueror With The Golden 
Crown) 


Yahweh walked through a wheat field in the southwestern part of the 
Jezreel Valley, restless. 


He had not stayed much longer in the other Valley, "His" Valley. It 
had been entirely too disturbing. A scene for which He had no script. 
He could not recall any other time in which He had felt this way - at 
least, not in His true memories. Those other, false memories were 
still coiling through the back of his brain, serpents in the grass 
waiting to strike once trodden on. 


He had needed to get away. So He came here, to the place once 
called Megiddo, where the Armageddon war would be fought. Would 
stilllbe fought. 


Because these events changed nothing. Everything that was to 
transpire would still transpire. He may not have reckoned on having 
so many powerful, alien opponents, but he was still the one true 
God. He still had a vast army of angels, an army that dwarfed any 
other in the history or imagination of man. He still had his Locusts, 
the things the Foundation called 098. He had all those and more. 


And on top of them, He had His Horsemen. 


He had planned to summon the First Horseman to the unnamed 
Valley, before he'd been derailed, and this valley of Megiddo would 
do for now. The others He could simply approach the way He 
approached everyone, up close and personal, but... not the First. 
Yahweh felt no need to countenance the evil done to the First with 
His holy presence, not even though the evil had been done by His 
own followers, not even though they had wrought their evil for 
reasons they thought to be good ones. 


Yahweh stood in the middle of the wheat field and spoke the First's 
name. 


And | saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on 
him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he 
went forth conquering, and to conquer. 


The young woman lay restrained on her bed, watching the IV drip 
hooked up to her arm. 


She had spent most of her life in this bed, she knew, since the age 
of nine. She was now in her late teens, though she wasn't sure of 
the year. She had forgotten so much. As to who she was... Well, 
she had also forgotten her name long ago. The people who came to 
see her called her SCP-231-7. 


She heard a voice in her head. 
Awaken, my child. Rise up and walk. 


The blocks in her mind, the blocks designed to keep her power 
contained, if only barely, all fell away at once. 


Birth pangs stabbed through her. She screamed, louder than she 
ever remembered screaming before. 


There were no klaxons to blare at 231-7's unnamed holding location. 
But there was shouting, and panic, and people in identical uniforms 
and explosive collars flooding the room. "Containment breach!" 
"Restrain her! Restrain her!" "Initiate emergency procedures!" 


But it was already much too late. 


SCP-231-7 - Conquest, the First Horseman of the Apocalypse - had 
never been pregnant with a literal child. She had been pregnant 
with... herself. There was no better way of putting it. She had been 
containing her own power, and it had been building up, stronger and 
stronger, honed in the fires of a thousand extended torture sessions 
that should have broken anyone beyond repair long ago. 


Because of this, it took her only seconds to give birth, and then, to 
ascend. 


Her eyes burned like white stars. In a moment, the network of scars 
and bed sores that covered her body vanished. Her skin shone 
brilliantly, with a light beyond light, almost liquid. A robe that flowed 
like water and gold fell across her shoulders as the old hospital 
gown dissolved. A circlet of fire ignited in a halo around her head, 
set with a dozen pinpricks of gem-colored light. 


The men surrounding her dissolved in a flash of white light. 


She remembered her sisters. Now all dead, whether by the fumbling 
of the Scarlet King's children and the fumbling of the Foundation 
after them. Rough drafts. Nephilim. She remembered where she had 
come from, and why. She remembered "Class A Amnestics." She 
remembered... 


She remembered everything.