The rookie triple checked her gear. She had helped conduct raids 
for the FBI when she was a cyberoperations specialist, but this times 
things were different. She was fresh out of MTF training. Magic, 
ghosts, eldritch horrors, and all the wonderful things that go bump in 
the night had been shown to exist. How anyone could feel prepared 
in this situation, she did not know. She tied her brunette hair into a 
ponytail and let out a nervous sigh. 


‘First op?” the veteran agent sitting next to her asked. The rookie 
quietly nodded. 


‘Is it that obvious?” she asked. 


“I'm afraid so,” he replied with a chuckle, and scratched the stubble 
on his chin. “All the newbies have a certain way about them. No 
worries, we've all been there before. Stick with me and | promise 
you'll do fine. Guaranteed, or your body back.” 


The rookie smiled and nodded, then fell silent as the task force lead 


cleared her throat and turned to them to remind them of the key 
points of their briefing. 


Monday, May 10th, 2021 


As Merlo finished telling Agent Clarissa Shaw about her pending 
decision, she watched her colleague think in silence for several 
moments. Shaw took off her glasses and chewed on the arm, the 
gears turning in her head. Eventually, Shaw sighed and shrugged. 


“So, which way are you currently leaning?” Shaw asked. 


“| have no idea...” Merlo sank into her office chair. “Field work is 
what makes me feel alive, you know? It’s all I’ve ever done and all 
I've ever wanted to do. Being a paper pusher seems... unnatural.” 


“So, what’s the problem? If being in the field is so important to you, if 
it's what you live for, your answer seems pretty cut and dry.” 


“Yeah, but what about Gabe and Jessie?” 
“What about them?” Shaw raised an eyebrow. 


“I’m far less likely to get shot if | take the job.” Merlo explained. 
“Plus, I'll be around them more. I’ve missed four out of five birthdays 
for Jessie. Can’t count how many times I’ve left Gabe high and 
dry...” 


“They both seem fine with things the way they are now.” Shaw 
shrugged. “Listen, Sasha, in the end this is going to boil down to 
what you want. I’d think you’d make a really good MTF Director. | 
really do. Hell, you’d make a kickass Site Director. But at the same 
time being in an office day after day would just crush the life out of 
you. | feel like I’ve known you long enough that | can say that. Don’t 
do that to yourself.” 


“Right...” Merlo sighed. “I guess part of me thinks that if | don’t take 
this, I’m letting tons of people down.” 


“And if you do take it, you'll let yourself down,” Shaw chuckled. 
“Maybe even Gamma-13, too. | mean, who would they even get to 


replace you?” 


Merlo smiled and gestured at her friend. Shaw’s grin immediately 
vanished. 


“Noooooooo0...” Shaw said slowly, pointing an accusatory finger at 
Merlo. “Sasha, if you think we’re Asimov’s Fuckups now...” 


“It's what?” Merlo interrupted. “Going to get worse? And here | 
thought | was selling myself short. Shaw, none of our problems as a 
task force were ever leadership based and you know it. You’d excel 
as task force lead. Believe me, I’d know.” 


The two agents looked at each other in silence for several seconds 
and then burst into laughter. 


“You fucking hypocrite!” Shaw finally said between gasps for air. Her 
voice then took on an imitative tone. “I don’t think | should take this 
job, Clarissa, but here are all the reasons you could take mine.” 


“Would you though?” Merlo asked as the laughter died down, “If | 
take the job, would you step up for the Lawbringers?” 


“No one could lead this team as well as you do.” Shaw shook her 
head. “The thought of attempting terrifies me. But yeah. I’d do it. | 
hope you don’t make me though.” 


2007 - Saturday, March 3rd 


The rookie stood fourth in a line of her fellow task force members. 
The veteran stood in front of her, and looked back to give her a 
small nod of confidence. She nodded in return, then watched as the 
lead agent quickly took out what looked like a tube of red paint, and 
applied it to the handle of the nearby warehouse door. The lead 
agent gave them the signal to hold as the handle, then the entire 
door, became red hot and disintegrated before them. The dust from 
the door had not even settled by the time another agent threw a 
flashbang into the warehouse interior. The explosive went off, the 
interior of the warehouse filling with the sound of confused voices as 
the team funneled in. 


Armed thugs attempted to draw weapons, but were quickly taken 
down by bursts of rifle fire. The rookie watched a muscular woman 
topple as she discharged six of her rounds. She gave pause as she 
watched the woman’s body limply slide down the side of a crate, but 
snapped back into focus as the veteran tapped her on the shoulder. 


“Come on!” he shouted over the din, and pointed toward the interior 
of the warehouse where a cacophony of metallic sounds, confused 
shouting, and gunfire filled the air. 


The rookie nodded and quickly fell in behind him, her weapon held 
tightly in her hands. She gave one last glance back at the woman 
she killed before snapping her head back to the matter at hand. 


Wednesday, May 12th, 2021 


Agent Merlo sat within a booth at the Secret Crest Pub, a brewpub 
in Portland’s Pearl District that had become a popular spot among 
Site-64 personnel during their off time, mainly due to the fact that its 
original owner had once been a retired Site Director. Across from 
her was a lanky and stubble coated agent by the name of Daniel 
Navarro. 


“How’s the robo-hand treating you?” Merlo asked after taking a sip 
from her beer. “I’m still surprised you went ahead and had it 
installed.” 


The anart specialist sipped his drink with his left hand and then 
shrugged. 


“It gives me phantom pain from time to time,” he replied, “and | can’t 
use my left arm to do magic anymore, but hey, at least | can do this 
again.” Navarro then proceeded to extend his left middle finger. 


“Classy as always.” Merlo shook her head as she chuckled. 


“| try.” Navarro smiled. “So, what’s all this Shaw told me about you 
getting a promotion?” 


“Site-64’s Director of MTFs is retiring,” Merlo explained. “Holman 
wants me to take the job.” 


“And you didn’t tell him no then and there?” 
“You would have?” 


“You bet, but keep in mind that the day I'm considered is the day 
Hell freezes over, so we'd have bigger problems on our hands,” 
Navarro replied. “Fuck that kind of responsibility. Being a field agent 
is far too much fun, plus my mistakes only affect a handful of people 
at most, usually. Last thing | want on my conscience is to be the guy 
who sent an entire task force on a mission and got them all 
banished to the deepest circle of Hell.” 


Navarro paused as he noticed Merlo was staring intently into her 
half-finished pint. 


“You’re still on the fence about it then?” 


“Well | was,” Merlo frowned, “but now I’m not so sure. | don’t want to 
be the one who sends a task force to the ninth ring of Hell.” 


“| mean, that’s just me. I’d doubt you’d ever get your people in that 
kind of situation to begin with. You think things through too well.” 
Navarro sighed. “Alternatively, if you take the job you wouldn’t be 
able to go on crazy magic adventures with me anymore.” 


“True,” Merlo conceded, “but if | take the job, when your magic 
adventure backfires, like it always does, I'll be in a position to help 
with your whole ‘not getting fired, amnesticized, and/or shot’ thing. 


“Where's the fun in that, though?” Navarro chuckled. “Listen, Sasha, 
in the end you do whatever you feel is best for you. Personally, | 
think your talents would be wasted as a paper pusher, but what do | 
know?” 


Navarro then gestured to the server for another round. 


2007 - Saturday, March 3rd 


“What the hell is that thing?!” the rookie shouted over a continuous 
wave of incoming machinegun fire. Her and the veteran had hidden 
behind a forklift for cover. At the center of the nearby clearing what 


could best be described as an robotic sentry turret opened fire at 
them. 


“Hell if | know!” the veteran replied, taking a series of quick potshots 
at the robot before returning to the safety of the rapidly deteriorating 
forklift. “But it’s pissed, whatever it is.” 


The rookie peered over the forklift’s side to get a better look. The 
robot's main body resembled a large black vase standing on four 
thick spidery legs. A thin red line formed a ring around its middle, 
emitting a bright light that intensively glowed in their direction. Two 
gun barrels adorned each side. All four fired a stream of bullets 
rapidly in their direction. The rookie flipped her rifle into full auto and 
quickly took aim, shouting as she emptied the rest of her magazine 
into the mechanical beast. She watched it take multiple steps back 
from the force of the impact, however, the bullets only made small 
dents in its armor. The turret began a process of self-repair as it 
stepped forward to reclaim its lost ground, and begin its stream of 
fire once again. 


“Shit!” the rookie shouted as she ducked back behind the forklift and 
reloaded. “Bullets aren't cracking this thing. Got any other ideas?” 


“Just one...” the veteran replied, and pulled out a knife. 
“You brought a knife to a gunfight? Are you crazy!” 
“Probably!” the veteran shouted, cutting his left hand with the blade. 


The rookie’s eyes widened as she watched his hand immediately 
burst into flames. The veteran gave a shout as he shot to his feet 
and pointed his palm at the droid, a giant pillar of blue flames 
engulfing the automaton as it let out a horrifying shriek. The veteran 
then closed his fist, the flames immediately dying, leaving a 
smoldering pile of charred metal and melted plastic where the turret 
once stood. 


‘I'll answer your questions later, provided they let you remember 
them,” the veteran told the rookie as he began to bandage the cut 
on his hand. “Preferably when all the bad guys are dead and bullets 
arent trying to find a home within us.” 


Friday, May 14th, 2021 


Merlo sat in Site-64’s cafeteria, a cup of stale coffee in her hands as 
she looked over the notepad in front of her. Jotted down on it was a 
pro and con list regarding taking the assistant director position. Both 
columns were of equal length, and held equally compelling 
arguments. She signed, and looked at the clock on the far wall. 


12:00 AM. 


“Why the hell can’t | make up my mind...” Merlo mumbled as she 
rubbed her eyes. “I can make split second decisions during an op, 
but | can’t decide on this bullshit... Fuck me.” 


She sighed and rested her head on the table. She still hadn't told 
Gabe. Mainly because she already knew what he was going to say. 
Same as Shaw and Navarro. Follow her heart. The only problem 
was her heart wasn’t keen on leading her anywhere. At least not this 
time. 


“Well that is that and this is this. 
Will you tell me what you saw and I'll tell you what you missed, 
when the ocean met the sky. (You missed, you missed) 
You missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye. (You 
missed) 
When the earth folded in on itself. (You missed) 
And said "Good luck, for your sake | hope heaven and hell (You 
missed, you missed) 
are really there, but | wouldn't hold my breath.” (You missed, you 
missed) 
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death? (You missed, you 
missed) 
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?” 


Merlo raised her head as the sound of monotone singing became 
audible. Soon after, a slender man in a lab coat with messy blond 
hair entered the cafeteria, a pair of earbuds visible within his ears as 
he made his way directly to the coffee machine. An amused smile 
came to Merlo’s face as she recognized him as Researcher 
Conwell, primary investigator of the site’s Anomalous Materials Lab. 


The purpose of this test was to see what would happen if we did 
something that would effect the main plot of a complex story; such 
as A Song of Ice and Fire. Also, | love that book. -Dr. Torres 


Head Researcher: Dr.Zocvi 


Subject: D-2828 

Material: After Man,by Dougal Dixon 

Equipment: Two (2) canteens filled with water, two (2) bags of trail 
mix, one (1) jacket, one (1) sleeping bag, one (1) head mounted 
camera 

Results: Upon entering, the test subject found that it was in 
temperate forest. D-2828 walked for about 30 minutes before it 
found a small clearing in the trees where it set up camp, eventually 
sleeping. Upon waking up, the subject packed up and ate and drank 
its remaining trail mix and water. D-2828 walked back into the forest, 
where after 28 minutes, subject came across a small group of 
Rabbucks grazing. The test subject was watching them, when it 
seemed to realise that the Rabbucks were getting anxious. Subject 
then turned around and saw a group of five Falanx closing in on 
them. After the subject turned around, the Rabbucks fled at full 
speed. Showing signs of fear, subject ran at full soeed and followed 
the Rabbucks. Subject ran roughly 54 metres before one of the 
Falanx tackled and bit subject on the leg. At that point, the subject 
took a sharp stick and stabbed at the Falanx's eye, causing it to run 
away. Subject ran for 6 minutes until it reached a stream, in which 
SCP-826 was sitting on a boulder. The subject walked towards it 
and picked up SCP-826. Subject saw a cave and walked through it, 
returning to the testing chamber. One of the pictures in the book 
now showed D-2828 fighting off the Falanx, titled, "The last human 
to ever live.". 


The reason for us testing is to see the effects on a book with 
illustrations.- Dr. Zocvi 


She listened to him continue to sing while preparing his coffee. 
Eventually he turned around, and upon seeing her, stopped mid- 
sentence. He blushed as he pulled his earbuds out. 


“Uh, sorry,” Conwell mumbled. “Normally no one is here around this 
time...” 


“Oh, don’t mind me.” Merlo chuckled. “You keep doing your thing. | 
won't tell anyone, superstar.” 


Conwell gave a small smile and approached her table. 


“What are you even doing here?” he asked. “I thought MTF 
members had normal hours when not on ops.” 


“| needed to think through a few things,” Merlo answered. “What are 
you doing here?” 


“Lab’s running a reaction that needs round-the-clock surveillance 
and samples collected every hour or so. Tonight’s my shift.” 


“Fun times,” Merlo commented. “Hey, Jacob, mind if | pick your brain 
for a bit.” 


“I’ve got a bit of time, sure.” Conwell shrugged. “What’s up?” 
“You're married, right?” 


Conwell raised an eyebrow, then flicked the titanium wedding band 
on his finger. 


“A little under six years now...” 
“Kids?” 


“Kate and | have a three-year-old son and a one-year-old daughter. 
Where’re you going with this?” 


“Just humor me for a few more questions,” Merlo sighed. “You don’t 
travel a lot for your position, right? Like, most nights you’re home to 
see your family?” 


“Yeah, most of the time | am.” Conwell scratched the back of his 
head. “Exceptions being when I’m here for experiments or get called 
out to Site-77 to help with some of their AMAT projects, but that’s 
mainly because I’m on good terms with their Site Director. | imagine 
its different if you’re on an MTF, though. The whole ‘mobile’ thing.” 


“Bingo,” Merlo replied. “I have a chance to change that though, the 
Task Force director’s position is opening up, and Holman is offering 
it to me...” 


“Well hey, congratulations!” Conwell exclaimed. “You should totally 
take it. You'd be great there.” 


Merlo remained silent and looked at the pro and con list on the table 
before her. 


“But you’re not so certain, are you?” Conwell observed.