Director Jafari came around his desk. "Allah said unto Mohammed, 
peace be unto him, ‘Say this: "It has been revealed to me that a 
group of the djinn listened and said, 'Indeed, we have heard an 
amazing Qur'an. It guides to the right course, and we have believed 
in it, and we will never compare anyone with the Lord. And it 
teaches that exalted is the nobleness of our Lord, that has no 
spouse or child; and that the foolishness we have spoken about 
Allah has been an excessive transgression. And we had thought that 
mankind and the ajinn would never speak about Allah a lie.""" 


"Sir, we have only their word that they are the djinn spoken of in the 
Seventy-Second Surah of the Qu'ran,” Abd al-Rashid said. "These... 
these things are not made of smokeless fire; | touched one of them 
during this expedition! Solid as you or |!" 


"Yes, fool, this was reported to me as well, by the Afsahnite in 
question,” Director Jafari said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This 
is another transgression that you will pay for. But it is illusion, Abd; 
they have no physical form whatsoever. Their bodies are fik'ra, 
thought-stuff, pure idea. The Qa'idah-SCP would refer to them as 
"sapient memetic organisms", which translates poorly to Arabic. 
Suffice it to say that the djinn stood before you and put forth into 
your mind the thought of its appearance; when you reached out to 
where it stood, it put forth into your mind the thought of a corporeal 
body. Do | know if this is the literal third race created by God? No. 
Do | particularly care? Most assuredly not. Doctrine is for the 
Revolutionary Guard; results are for the ORIA." 


Abd al-Rashid paused before his next words. "Sir, that...that very 
nearly borders on —" 


"What, blasohemy? Heresy? Treason? Whatever combination of all 
three now exist in this iteration of the fatherland?" Director Jafari sat 
back behind his desk again. "The Supreme Leader has placed me 
and kept me in this place regardless of my adherence to any 
religious or political doctrine because | have accomplished the goal 
of protecting the homeland, the /ranzamin, from our external threats. 
The Qa'idah-SCP would colonize us, their Insurgent counterparts 
would conquer us outright. The UN pigdogs would dilute us. The 
various gangs of capitalists would exploit us, the various bands of 
artists would corrupt us, the various stripes of pagan fanatics want 


God knows what with us." 


Jafari sighed, leaned across his desk, and continued. "We have our 
treaties with the Horizon Initiative when it suits us, but trust there is 
strained. You worked with them in one of the joint raids against the 
Clockworkers, didn't you? You understand this. Our primary 
advantages in this sorcerous cold war are the extensive campaigns 
we've undertaken to make very sure our enemies vastly 
underestimate our capabilities, and our alliance with the ajinn. Any 
step you take that undermines the trust between our peoples 
undermines the land of our fathers. Do you understand that?" 
Jafari's face was sunken now, disappointed rather than angry; this 
revealed to Abd al-Rashid the extent of his years. "You are going to 
make this right. If you happen to eliminate some of your ridiculous 
prejudices on the way, that would be marvelous. But you will 
assuage those you have offended." 


It was well understood by most veteran operatives within the 
Directorate that Parviz Jafari held an almost fatherly role over many 
of his employees, whether it was spoken aloud or not. The shame 
Abd al-Rashid felt at that moment made him understand how this 
was possible now with little difficulty. "I will, sir. Please, tell me what 
| need to do." 


Businesslike again after that moment of vulnerability, Jafari reached 
into his desk and removed a thin manila folder. Handing it to Abd al- 
Rashid, he said, "These are instructions on where and when to meet 
up with your contact; details on how to access House Afseneh are 
restricted only to trusted individuals, and you will need to be 
accompanied by one such in order to reach it. It will be expected 
that you apologize to the imam of the House in person on behalf of 
the offended party, who is likely deployed elsewhere at the moment. 
The other documents in there deal with etiquette and protocol for 
interacting with the Afsenites; every House has different rules and 
procedures, and while | don't seriously expect you're familiar with 
anything of the sort, you need a familiarity with these rules more 
than you need to be able to wipe your own ass for the next three 
days, so | suggest you start reading. You will meet up with the 
contact tomorrow, so | suggest you spend that time reading." 


"Yes, sir," Abd al-Rashid said. He stood, nearly saluted out of habit, 


and walked out with the folder. 


Director Jafari turned to the next piece of business on his desk. To 
nowhere in the room in particular, he said, in English, "You can 
come out now, you know. Nobody will be coming in for the next half 
hour." 


A pause, and then a space beside the Director's bookshelf was 
occupied by a tall, pretty, fair-skinned woman. Aside from thin 
streaks of gray barely visible in her hair, she could easily have 
passed for a woman in her early thirties who had lived an unusually 
stressful life. Not bad for a centenarian, Jafari thought to himself. 


"Is he nearly as good as you claimed?" the woman asked. 


"| have high hopes for him," Jafari replied. "Are you less 
impressed?" 


Josephine shrugged. "| must admit, I'm still working on my Arabic, 
but it didn't seem like the boy had a great deal of confidence." 


Jafari chuckled. "He called Hami Faruhar of House Afsaneh a 
‘depraved ifrit', apparently. | told him he had to go to the Afsanites 
and apologize." 


Josephine looked puzzled. "How do you expect him to get into..." 
She paused. "I take it I'm about to take a bit of a trip with the child?" 


Jafari smiled. "Well, you had been saying you were wanting to get 
out of Tehran for a little while. And | think some of the heat has died 
down, at least from the GOC. You'll have protection from our people 
if the magighasseb come after you, as per our agreement." 


"The m — oh, magekillers?" 


"'Wizard butchers’, literally," Jafari said. "Close enough. Work on 
the Arabic, the Farsi, or both, or rely on the telepathy if need be, but 
you'll need to be the boy's guide among the Afsenites. Consider it 
the beginning of repaying a favor." 


Josephine's face darkened almost imperceptibly, then returned to 
normal. "Fair enough. | suppose I'm attracting plenty of unwanted 


attention on this part of the world from my enemies." 


"That you are, dear," Jafari replied. "We will continue to protect you, 
but some...assistance in our operations now and then would be 
much appreciated." 


"| can assist," Josephine replied, and faded away. 


Jafari returned to the work on his desk. 


SCP-604: The Cannibal's Banquet; A Corrupted 
Ritual 


Item #: SCP-604 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-604 consists of a set of 
objects which all exhibit the same properties, and are contained 
together. Access is restricted to authorized personnel, and anyone 
attempting to access the containment area without authorization will 
be immediately detained. All interaction and testing must be cleared 
with Site Command. 


Any staff interacting with SCP-604 must submit to psychological 
testing before and after interaction. Requests for reports on testing 
events, subject reactions, and audio/video recordings must be 
cleared with Central Records, and may not be removed from the 
record reviewing area. 


Description: SCP-604 is a set of tableware and dishes, consisting 
of 19 plates of various sizes and designs, and 21 goblets, 
champagne flutes, and other wineglasses. Several are ornately 
gilded, studded with diamonds and rubies, or made out of fine 
materials such as porcelain, china, and crystal. Most are extremely 
heavy, because of the weight of the rich metals. The cutlery, cloth, 
chairs, table, and other items that made up the banquet where 
SCP-604 was discovered have no anomalous properties, and are 
not contained. 


Whenever an edible solid is placed onto one of the plates or a liquid 
is poured into one of the drink vessels, the food will transform into 
human flesh, or the nearest equivalent organ, body part, or fluid. 
The change from one product to another seems to be based on 
similarities between color, smell, and composition, although vague 
symbolism and mental associations seem to be occasionally 
involved as well. For example, fleshy steaks will turn into cuts from 


Hava 


The American woman standing near one of the stands in the 
marketplace was the giveaway that Abd al-Rashid bin Tannous was 
in the right place. Abd al-Rashid, in the glow of the cultural tolerance 
that he was ordered to take upon himself, repressed all of the 
negative thoughts about the almost certainly godless Western harlot 
that stood before him, while simultaneously trying to repress a sense 
of pride at doing so. He could tell her American origin from...well, it 
was nearly sweating from her pores. The inappropriate dress, the 
stern, impertinent, rude glare at the men walking past her. 


"You would be the guide | was instructed to meet?" Abd al-Rashid 
said. 


The American woman's visage took on the serene awe that is only 
found in the faces of children who have recently soiled themselves 
and individuals completely non-fluent in a language that is being 
spoken to them. "I rated Josephine," she stumbled through. "I... 
evaluating Josephine? | Josephine named." She paused, then 
shook her head. 


Abd al-Rashid began to politely walk her through conversational 
Arabic when the world around him grayed out slightly, faded; it didn't 
pass away completely, but it gained a perceptible sheen of unreality. 
In the gray fog, Abd al-Rashid heard a voice speaking to him. 


My name is Josephine, the voice said. You'd be doing me a 
wonderful favor if you could get very, very startled by all of this now 
and move on to the "acceptance" stage post haste. I'm attracting 
enough attention as it is without you going apoplectic or drooling. 


Once the voice stopped, the world returned to normal. Abd al- 
Rashid was immediately cognizant of the stunned, nearly-idiotic 
expression on his face, and regained his outward composure as 
quickly as possible. "You, ah, you are a mind-reader?" 


The woman paused for a moment, looking at Abd al-Rashid closely, 
as though inspecting his face for blemishes. Sorry, it takes a 
moment for me to decode your thoughts. Yes, a telepath. Before you 
start, yes, I'm aware of the hadiths forbidding and condeming 
telepathy. Let me assure you that | am not of the devil Shaytan, that 
none of my thoughts are manipulated by him, and that | will not use 
this ability for spying or infiltration in your presence. Though | cannot 
universally say the same for the individuals we are about to meet. 


Abd al-Rashid was quickly adapting to the rather unusual situation, 
accepting the fading and refocusing of reality around him as 
necessary. "Do | need to speak for this to work?" 


It helps, Josephine said. Helps you focus thoughts into coherent 
words. | can work around its absence if you're uncomfortable, 
though. 


"No, no, it's fine," Abd al-Rashid said. "Shall we proceed?" 


Yes, certainly, Josephine said. We need to enter the aperture. Close 
your eyes. Abd al-Rashid did so. Clear your mind. | need you to 
focus on a very specific thought. Abd al-Rashid nodded. 


| want you to think about the first time that you realized that, one 
day, your mother was going to die. 


Abd al-Rashid looked at Josephine, cocked his head to one side, 
frowned, then closed his eyes again. A moment passed. 


A short whistling tune came from behind where Abd al-Rashid was 
standing. He opened his eyes, turned, looked behind him. There 
was an enclosed market stand where one had not been previously. 
Josephine walked past him into the opening. When did these stands 
start being enclosed? Abd al-Rashid thought before following. 


The building looked about the size of Abd al-Rashid's small 
apartment bathroom in Shemiran from the outside, but once he 
crossed into the stand, the world behind him faded away into 
nonexistence. Suddenly, without looking around, without needing to 
look around to confirm, he knew that, if he were to turn around, the 
doorway he just walked through would be gone. He knew he was 


surrounded on all sides by an infinite space exactly similar to the 
clay brick world he saw in front of him. And he knew that if he were 
to turn around and walk away, he could spend the entire remainder 
of his natural life searching and he would never find anything in that 
infinite space other than the man — no, the boy, possibly eleven 
years old — sitting placidly in front of him, smoking a cigarette. 


Josephine spoke in English towards the boy, who glanced briefly at 
her before wincing and looking away. The boy said some words in 
return to her in English. The back and forth continued for a few 
moments before Josephine nodded and walked past the boy, 
disappearing a few seconds later. 


"Wait, where did —" 


"You need to hope you know what you're doing,” the boy said in 
perfect, unaccented Istanbul Turkish, staring into space in a 
trancelike fashion. "Whatever plan you have in mind, she has 
planned ten ways to kill you without deviating from whatever 
expectations are had of her. She is trying very hard to behave like a 
human being, but some part of her knows that it will never be 
successful, and will certainly never balance out the things she has 
done. She has a self-control that will never belie how close she is to 
snapping and taking everyone around her down with her." 


Abd al-Rashid continued staring, never having closed his mouth 
from any of the previous three miracles he had witnessed in the past 
ten minutes. "Did you read my mind?" he asked. 


"Hmm?" the boy said, snapping his eyes on Abd al-Rashid before 
taking a drag from his cigarette. "Oh, | could give a ask melegi got 
lalesi less regarding how you handle her. | simply distrust anyone 
with too much hava for me to even look upon them. Now siktir git to 
House Afsenah so | can discorporealize this aperture and this child's 
form. Just walk past me like the gerceklik bukucti did and be on your 
way. 


Abd al-Rashid was ready to ask who taught this boy to reference the 
orifices of shamed females in casual conversation, but he was yet 
more baffled by the terms he had used to refer to Josephine. Too 
much...aura? he thought. And what is a "reality bender"? He started 


to ask the boy, but the child stood and walked away from where he 
was sitting, disappearing in a way that caused Abd al-Rashid to 
know he would not be coming back. 


He looked at the place where the boy had pointed for him to walk, 
shrugged, and followed. 


The feeling of transitioning from that...nether place, or whatever it 
was, into House Afseneh was much more anticlimactic than Abd al- 
Rashid had been expecting. He remembered being beside the boy's 
little table, walking past it. He remembered admiring the fine Persian 
rug on the floor of the reception room of the House. He then realized 
that he remembered nothing of the intervening time. 


Josephine was beside him. Abd al-Rashid knew this from the sound 
of breathing. He was too stunned by the scene around him to 
actually notice anything else. The room was...opulent would have 
failed to describe it. Fine chandeliers in many different styles hung 
from the ceilings. The walls themselves were frescoes that seemed 
to — no, he realized, they really are moving. Incredible.