"Heh, wise words..." Gregory chuckled, and flicked the cigarette 
away before kicking Jeremy in the gut, sending him toppling over. 
He then raised his leg to deliver another kick, only to be tackled by 
Joseph, sprinting down the hill at top speed. 


"Leave him the fuck alone!" Joseph shouted as the two crashed into 
the dirt. He managed to smash Gregory's head into the ground twice 
before Gregory's two friend pried him off their leader. He got to his 


feet slowly, howling in pain as he wiped the blood from what was 
likely a broken nose. 


"God fucking damn it!" he shouted. "You fucked up now!" 


Joseph tried to remember what exactly happened next, but drew a 
blank. It was safe to say it involved a lot of punching, and several 
kicks. 


"Does it work?" Baldric asked. He sat across a table from Candle 
and Bell who had placed the keycard down in front of him and Wells. 
The latter poorly hid a grin as he watched Baldric inspect the 
keycard as if it was bacteria beneath a microscope. 


"We tested it before we brought it here," Bell replied. "It works just 
fine." 


"Can't argue with those results," Candle smiled. 


"Sure can't," Wells agreed and let out a relieved sigh. "| was going to 
offer Lilith my keycard if we didn't find this soon. You really saved 
me some hassle, kid. A real hero." 


Bell faked a smile, nodding in agreement with Wells' praise. His 
mind was racing with ideas on what to do when the truth about how 
he acquired the keycard eventually surfaced. So far the most viable 
option was to push Wells through the gate, then destroy it when he 
was the only one left. Needless to say, it was an idea that was still in 
development. 


"We'll leave in an hour," Wells eventually added. "Get the wounded 
ready to travel." 


He then stood and chuckled, taking a moment to stretch. 


"Ships no longer sinking. Captain doesn't have to go down with it." 


Hssssssitttt 


The blast door opened smoothly, despite its years of disuse, 


revealing a small hallway that lead to yet another blast door. On the 
other side of the second door, the members of Eta-13 were 
welcomed by a polished marble cavern. At its center was a stone 
archway with a crystal in place of of a keystone. The entire task 
force let out a collective sigh. Home was once again in their reach. 


"Everyone have their keys?" Baldric asked, to be met by a tired 
series of murmured affirmations. Balrdic gave a nod to Wells, and 
the task force began their Gate entry proceedings. 


Oh good, you made it! Jeremy Walsh's voice echoed through Bell's 
mind. Lilith phased into existence above the Gate. Well done. 


"Here to see us off?" Wells asked, his voice slightly smug. 


Indeed, Lilith replied cheerfully. Also to warn you that one of the 
Camdorian elders made a deal with me to open the bunker's blast 
door. Anyway, have a nice trip. 


"Wait, what?" Wells snapped, but was too late. Lilith had already 
disappeared with a cackle, and in the distance the bunker's blast 
doors could be heard opening. 


Bwaaaaaaaaaa 


The sound of a blaring tuba echoed through the interior of the 
bunker. A swarm of natives rushed towards them, crossbows drawn. 


"Candle, Turner, positions!" Wells shouted, aiming his rifle as task 
force members rushed past him and through the Gate. 


The three agents let off burst after burst, their foes falling with the 
sound of shattering glass. Even with their casualties, however, the 
enemy had achieved a critical mass and would soon overrun their 
position. At the last second, Wells slammed his fist into the nearby 
door panel, the blast doors hissing shut and sealing them within the 
Gate's chamber. The sound of an orchestra exploding could be 
heard on the other side as the natives attempted to break the door 
down. 


"Everyone but Bell is through!" Turner shouted she inserted a fresh 
magazine into her rifle. "How long will these internal doors hold?" 


"Depends on if they use magic or not," Candle replied. He then 
turned to Bell, a confused look on his face. "We appreciate the back 
up, champ, but you should really leave. Now!" 


Bell shook nervously as he held his pistol tight. He opened his 
mouth to speak, but could not find his words. 


"You can't, can you?" Turner asked, her eyes opening wide with 
revelation. "You traded with Lilith!" 


"You what?!?" Wells barked. "Are you out of your mind?" 


"Someone had to!" Bell shouted back. "I didn't mind. Go on! Get the 
rest of the team home!" 


Wells pulled out his container of chicken's feet and began step 
towards Bell. 


"You're going to take my key, and you're going to go through the 
Gate, that's an order!" 


Bell raised his pistol, the muzzle shaking violently as he increased 
the distance between himself and Wells. 


"Can't do that, sir!" Bell shouted. "I volunteer. Please, we don't have 
much time. They can break through those doors at any second." 


"Stand down, Bell!" Wells shouted. Bell fired a round from his pistol 
into the ceiling in response. 


Candle, Turner, and Wells each stepped back and looked to each 
other. Wells eventually sighed. 


"You heard Galahad," he said. "Kid wants to be a damn hero, we'll 
let him. Through the Gate." 


Candle quickly whispered something to Turner, the latter giving a sly 
a smile and nodding. The two then jolted, Candle ramming Wells 
between the archway, as Turner zigzagged across the distance 
separating her and Bell, incapacitating the young researcher as he 
attempted to fire off another shot. Candle slammed his key into 
Bell's hands. With a gentle throw, the engineer was disappeared into 


the Gate Passage. 


"Tell Wells I'm not sorry," Candle said to Turner. "And get them back 
to Site-93 for me." 


"Sure thing, anything else | can do for you?" Turner replied. "Want 
me to hit Baldric too?" 


"Some low hanging fruit right there. How do you do it?" 
"Trade secret, sorry." 


Candle handed off his medical supplies to Turner, who then ran 
through Gate. The last thing she saw before being struck by a 
combination of her vision filling with a deep purple and the sensation 
of licking a battery, was Candle reloading, and preparing for the 
blast doors to breach. 


Joseph Bell lay on the forest floor, his head pounding, and his left 
eye swelling shut. Gregory and his friends had beaten the shit out of 
him and left, chanting a sea of slurs and insults as they vanished 
into the woods. 


"You look like shit." 


Joseph turned his head and looked over to see Jeremy limping 
toward him, offering assistance up. Joseph took his friends hand 
and the two made their way to a large tree where they slumped 
down to rest. Getting one’s ass kicked was exhausting work. 


"Thanks for that by the way," Jeremy said with a sigh. "And sorry 
I've been such a tool, especially when you needed me most. I'm 
really sorry, dude." 


"Its alright..." Joseph replied. "| shouldn't have abandoned you..." 


"| mean, sure, but | can't say | wouldn't have done the same if our 
positions were switched. Then your dad passed and | acted like a 
total prick..." 


Jeremy trailed off, shaking his head. 


"I'm really going to miss you when you move, man." 
A small smile came to Joseph's face as he looked toward his friend. 


"I'm going to miss you too. It's going to be weird graduating at 
another school without you." 


"| know, right?" Jeremy gave a melancholy laugh and got to his feet 
before offering Joseph a hand up. "It really sucks." 


"It really does," Joseph agreed as he accepted the assistance, the 
two supporting one another as they began to limp towards Jeremy's 
home. "Guess we just have to make the best of whatever time we 
have left." 


The particular entrance into the Gate Passage taken by Eta-13 on 
their escape from Cronos Outpost operated as kind of trap door 
within a rather unremarkable section of the passage. The 
Foundation had the forethought to install a ladder following the 
creation of Cronos Outpost, and so Agent Turner descended into the 
cramped dirt passage rung after rung. The tight, dirt passage was 
filled with the sounds of a howling Researcher Bell, being held down 
by several other members of Eta-13. 


"You bastard," he shouted, "It was my choice! My decision! | 
volunteered my life, not yours!" 


Turner calmly removed an injection pen from Candle's kit and 
stabbed it into Bell's leg. Within a few moments the sedation took 
effect, and the Gate Passage fell quiet. 


"We still have a lot of ground to cover," Baldric said, breaking the 
silence. "And we need to make sure you all know how to interact 
with the Oldomerites before we show up like beggars on their front 
door." 


The remainder of Eta-13 gathered around Dr. Baldric as he 
discussed in great detail the route they were to take to Armstrong 
Outpost and the intricacies of the Oldomerites themselves. 
Meanwhile, Turner caught Sgt. Wells isolating himself to the side 


where he rubbed the back of his head. 


"Fuck Candle and his goddamn heroics, and fuck the fact that they 
rubbed off on Bell..." Wells mumbled as Turner approached. He 
attempted to shoo her away, but eventually relented to have her 
company. 


"He wanted me to tell you that he's not sorry," she commented. 
"Of course he isn't..." 


"You know that you and Baldric would have done the exact same 
thing if you were him. Besides, the ship isn't sinking anymore. It's 
going to need its captain." 


Wells sighed and nodded. Turner patted him on the shoulder and 
proceeded to stand and join the rest of the group. 


By the end of Baldric's briefing, Bell had come to, and approached 
her. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Turner 
gave a sympathetic smile in return. 


"Looks like you're on your own from here on out, kid," she said. "But 
hey, if even half of what Candle had to teach rubbed off on you, 
you'll be fine." 


"| sent James to his death..." Bell mumbled. 

"Nah, Candle made his own choice. Just like you. Ain't it a bitch?" 
Bell gave a nod and fell in line, his eyes plastered to the ground. 
Eta-13 picked itself up, dusted itself off, and moved on. There would 


be time to mourn once they returned to Site-93. 


« Razumite Games | Hub | The Homecoming of Eta-13 » 


The Homecoming of Eta-13 


Within the cramped dirt tunnels of the Gate Passage a group of 
eleven humans dressed in the field gear of an SCP Foundation task 
force limped onward. They were beaten, bloodied, bruised, and 
carried with them the pungent smell of body odor, sweat, and fear. 
While they had started their expedition with twenty, now they were 
down to eleven. They were MTF Eta-13, Gulliver's Tourists, and 
they were heading home. 


Some, like Sgt. Darren Wells and Dr. Johna Baldric, were people of 
action. Leaders who were at their wits end attempting to have their 
version of Eta-13 avoid the fate of their predecessor, Donald Blaire. 
Having lost almost half the task force under their watch, the two of 
them agreed their success was mixed. As they lead the group 
through the tunnels, both of them held their heads high, faking a 
level of confidence they no longer had. 


Others, like Dr. Sandra Gonzalez, were skilled scientists who were 
out of their depth on an expedition that had long ago stopped being 
scientific. As she kept up with the group, she held a metal tulip 
pendent tightly in her hand, reminding her of someone waiting for 
her to return to Site-93. 


Still others, like Agent Jia Turner, were tough soldiers who had 
fought tooth and nail to try and keep the task force alive and in one 
piece. Agent Turner's head constantly swiveled about as she kept 
on searching for the next source of danger. No matter how well she 
and the other security forces planned, there was always another 
source of danger. 


All members of the task force, however, were like Researcher 
Joseph Bell. They had each watched as men and women that they 
had called their friends died before their eyes, with little they could 
do to stop it. Bell limped along with his colleagues, his eyes 
plastered to the smooth dirt floor. The absence of a lanky medic by 
his side weighed heavily on his mind. 


"So," Gonzalez whispered to Turner, breaking the silence. "Have 
you met the Oldomerites before?" 


"Yeah, on three different occasions," Turner answered. "Why?" 
"What are we in for?" The xenobiologist asked. 


"Picture a centaur... except the horse is actually a giant ant. And the 
person is a skeleton. Now make this ant centaur a telepathic 
bureaucrat and you have an Oldomerite." 


Gonzalez blinked a few times as the mental picture ran in and out of 
her psyche. 


"Quiet!" Baldric shouted back from the front of the line, cutting 
Turner and Gonzalez's conversation short. "We're almost there..." 


Within the next hundred meters, the dirt tunnel gave way to a 
smooth passage made of pure amber. Occasionally, deep within the 
petrified resin, the forms of trapped aquatic creatures could be seen. 
Then the passage opened up into an enormous pit that disappeared 
into the darkness, trap doors lining its walls. A single narrow, amber 
bridge offered the only way across. 


"I'll be the one doing the talking," Baldric whispered to Wells as they 
began to lead the task force across the bridge. Baldric then turned 
his head back to the rest of his colleagues. "Follow my lead." 


Just as the task force reached the midpoint of the bridge, the cavern 
filled with the sound of slamming doors, followed by a high pitched 
chittering as twenty insectoid creatures scaled the cavern walls, 
stopping just above the level of the bridge. Their humanoid upper 
halves swiveled as they shouldered what appeared to be rifles, 
taking aim at the humans on the bridge. Baldric immediately 
kneeled. The rest of the task force followed suit. At the sight of this 
spectacle, the chittering of the Oldomerites continued. Eventually, 
an Oldomerite wearing a silver and gold cape crawled toward the 
group from the far end of the bridge. 


Klakata Baldric? Klakata Wells? It spoke in a feminine voice. Your 
colleagues at your Hill in our territory did not say we would be 


assistance from SCP-758. 


« SCP-757 | SCP-758 | SCP-759 » 


seeing you this cycle. This is most irregular. 


"Klakata Teyo," Baldric replied in as courteous a voice as he could 
muster. "Our Line set out on a journey into a foreign section of the 
Inner Hill many days ago and were attacked by machines belonging 
to the Hand. We fled through another world, and then to here 
seeking asylum. Our Line would be indebted to you." 


A bold move even for the Hand, Teyo commented. She then looked 
over the various members of the task force. Has your Line brought 
the expected toll? 


"We are short on supplies," Baldric answered. "Our Line will be more 
than happy to provide payment once we make it to our Hill..." 


We made it clear to Klakata Kauffman that there are no exceptions 
granted... Teyo scolded. Your Line has come a long way to be 
turned back. 


"Klakata Teyo, please!" Baldric pleaded. "Our pursuers will know we 
are here. If we are turned back here, we will likely be slaughtered. 
We'll double, even triple the toll, but we need to first get to -" 


Baldric was interrupted by the sound of crashing thunder. He and 
the rest of Eta-13 turned their heads. Standing behind them, right 
before the bridge were three individuals dressed in black. Their 
faces were obscured by red masks, the emblem of a serpent 
wrapping around a human hand engraved on the center. Floating 
behind them were ten beings covered in brownish-green cloaks with 
no feet dangling beneath them. A spherical mirror took the place of a 
face beneath their hoods. Each carried a black crossbow. 


"Oldomerite!" one of the Hand agents shouted in a deep voice. "We 
demand you surrender these Jailors to us at once! They have 
committed crimes against the Hydra's Spine, and must be held 
accountable."