Elder Perenelle looked unfazed, as she smiled at Elder Henry, 
"Elder Henry, you do not approve of the unanimous decision of the 
Thirteenth Circle?" 


Elder Henry reached the stage, and stood shaking with anger, "| do 
not! And in the absence of Elder Hayyan | am the acting Eldest of 
the Seventh Circle. | demand we hold discourse about this...| have 
seen no proof of his skills! We have seen nothing of his abilities, or 
his masteries!" 


Elder Perenelle looked over at Ruslav, "Do you have anything to say 
in your defense, Elder Diaghilev?" 


Ruslav took a step forward, and nodded slightly, "| do. You have 
named me dabbler, pretender, and nepotee. | say the Thirteenth 
Circle has declared this untrue. Do you challenge their word as well 
as Elder Hayyan's?" 


Lord Henry stood, and strode to the Dais, letting his long silver 


crozier thump on the wood. "| do. Elder Hayyan has not been seen 
for months, and now you come here, claiming to be his heir? | do not 
know what you have done to prove yourself to the Thirteenth Circle, 
but | certainly cast doubt on it." 


Ruslav's brows knotted, "Elder Hayyan entrusted me to come here, 
and deliver a message after he died. The man saved my life, and 
bade me to come here, to join you, Elder Henry." 


Lord Henry looked back to the Seventh Circle gathered in the seats, 
"While you claim this is true, and you've convinced the council, you 
cannot simply override our autonomy as a Circle. |, and my 
colleagues name you dabbler, and not fit to join our circle." 


Elder Perenelle walked forward, "And we, as the ruling Circle 
declare that your claim has no merit. With a unanimous decision of 
the Thirteenth Circle you have no legal grounds, according to the 
Compact to refute his entry." 


Lord Henry shook his head, and set his jaw, "I have one last option." 


Elder Nicholas stood, and took a step forward, "Henry, you can't be 
serious?" 


Lord Henry's face took on a purplish cast, and he held his crozier 
aloft, a slender rod of silver and malachite fashioned in to an 
ouroboros at its head. "I challenge you to the Circle of Balance." A 
murmur went up from the crowd as the words rang out. 


The murmur rose to a clamour, until Eldest Trismegistus slammed 
his crozier on the lecturn's granite block. "Silence! There has been a 
challenge to the Circle of Balance. Elder Diaghilev, do you accept?" 


Ruslav took a step forward, and nodded. "I do. May the wise 
prevail." 


In the seats of the Third Circle, Adebeyo shifted slightly, not able to 
beleive the person he met at the door yesterday was now 
challenging Elder Henry Percy. This was unprecedented. Beside 
him, his friend Allen gently touched his shoulder. "Hey, Adebeyo. 
I've got six alcesti that Percy wipes the floor with this guy." 


Adebeyo smiled, and leaned back slightly. "| wouldn't be so sure. 
Ten that Ruslav makes him look like a fool." 


.-.Sometimes, even the wise cannot settle things with words. Therefore, as 
part of this compact, we shall establish a procedure for determining who is 
correct. Barbaric? Maybe. But in cases where there is no resolution, 
whoever has greater mastery of the Art shall receive defference. 

The Circle of Balance shall be the final arbiter between two alchemists... 


-Excerpt, Compact of the Eldest and Most Wise Alchemists of the Arte 


Ruslav stood in the cleared dias, across from Lord Henry, who held 
his crozier near the head, his hands tight around the metal. Ruslav's 
own crozier was held loosely in his left hand, leaving his right free to 
work whatever Aethers were required. "If you wish to end this 
peacefully, you still may, Elder Henry." 


Lord Henry shook his head, his emotions calmed now, but still 
obviously determined to oust Ruslav. "Hardly. You show up out of 
nowhere, and try and force your way in to my circle. Never. I'm 
going to make you wish you'd stayed in Slavia." 


Elder Perenelle took a step forward, and held up a hand. 
"Gentlemen. May the wise prevail. Begin." She turned, and quickly 
walked off the dais, sitting in one of the relocated chairs at the edge 
of the dais. 


Lord Henry thrust his cane forward, gathering as much of the 
Fulminous Aether as he could from the currents around him. It came 
forward like a torrent, and he cried out, the energies coalescing in to 
a massive fork of lightning. 


The chaotic stream streaked towards Ruslav, who held his right 
hand out, letting the energies within and without flow through him, 
the Terronous Aether responding easily to his desires. He mixed in 
the heavy stream of Aequeous Aehter flowing over the stage, and 
gently swiped his hand across his body, the forked lightning 
streaking up towards the ceiling, and the energies harmlessly 
expanding in to a globe of light. 


Lord Henry stared at Ruslav in disbelief. He took a moment to 


compose himself, and took a step forward, his hands falling to his 
sides as he gathered Igenous Aether. His crozier stuck fast to his 
hip against a metal plate, energized by the Terrnous Aether. A cry 
escaped his lips as he shoved his hands forward, over and over. 
From his fingertips fire flashed out, the Igneous Aether nearly 
overwhelming, as the lights above them dimmed. A dozen globes of 
fire streaked out in unison across the stage. 


Ruslav once again held up a hand, this time his left, as the 
Aeronous Aether flowed smoothly and without issue through his 
body once more, gathering the energies behind the fire and 
dispersing them harmlessly, in to the skies. The orb above them 
glowed brighter, as Ruslav channelled all the violent power Henry 
through at him in to it. 


Henry let his hands fall to his sides, as he struggled for breath, 
straightening. "What are you, a coward? Fight back!" The Elder 
alchemist reached in to the ground, gathering Terronous and Ferric 
Aethers from all around them. 


Ruslav narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong. The power that 
Henry was throwing at him was tremendous, yes, but something 
was off. Ruslav gently gathered the Aethers in to him, to expand his 
perceptions of time, as Henry unleashed the stored energies. 


Gravity surged around Ruslav, attempting to crush him to the 
ground, but...it was a fraction of a second after Lord Henry 
unleashed his energies. There was something else going on. Ruslav 
waved his arms in a slow circle in front of him, easily dispersing the 
energies around him, and up in to the skies, once again turning Lord 
Henry's destruction in to Harmonious Balance. 


Henry's eyes bulged in his head, his frustrating growing with every 
motion. "Fine. You're from Slavia, let's see how you like the cold!" 
This time Ruslav focused on his hands, where the Aeronous and 
Aeqeous Aethers gathered in a torrent of power. They weren't 
gathering from the room, though. The Aether flows around Lord 
Henry were barely being tapped. Just below his palms, in the meat 
of his hands, the Aethers were flowing from somewhere else. 


Ruslav reached out for the first time, with the Tenebrous Aether, the 


cold power of the vacuum beyond the stars. Lord Henry was pulled 
forward, the Aethers gathered in his hands being redirected up in to 
the sky, as the small slits in reality behind his palms were dragged 
forward, and Henry along with them. 


Ruslav strode forward, struggling to hold on to the Aether flows. 
Henry kneeled on the dais, his hands turned upwards towards the 
pull of the Tenebrous Aether that Ruslav had summoned. Ruslav 
pulled his hands together against the tide of power, and suddenly 
spread them, expanding the portals. The black light pouring out from 
the portals expanded until the entire room could see beyond the rip 
in time and space. 


Beyond the dark edges of the portals, a figure could clearly be made 
out. Terrible and powerful and hungry the glowering visage of some 
malevolent entity smoldered as it looked at Ruslav. The cosmic 
abomination's eyes narrowed, and the squirming tendrils of one of 
its innumerable hands reached out towards the portal. Ruslav's eyes 
widened, and he slammed his hands together, the Tenebrous 
Aethers suddenly reversed, slamming the portals shut. 


A thunderous silence fell over the collected alchemists. The entire 
Eldest Circle was on its feet, croziers in hand at the offense before 
them. Lord Henry fell to the dais, unable to support himself any 
longer. 


Lord Henry shuddered, and looked at Ruslav in panic, "What...what 
was that?!" 


Above Ruslav, a soft sound not unalike music emanated from the 
pulsing orb of white light. A newfound star. The Aethers within the 
mote of light emanated out in harmonious balance. The energies 
washed over the alchemists, all of them feeling the torrential power 
within. 


Elder Perenelle smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "A 
prismatic confluence. I'd say that proves he's no dabbler, Henry. 
Apparently, you were not the only one who didn't want Ruslav within 
your circle." 


Henry lifted himself to his hands and knees, and looked at the 


gathered circle behind him. "What the hell just happened?" 


Around the room, the circles erupted in to chaos, as the alchemists 
from the Seventh Circle strode out to Lord Henry's side. One 
alchemist, an Alagaddan, laid his hand on Lord Henry's shoulder. 
"This isn't over, dabbler." The naked hatred in his eyes burned in to 
Ruslav's. 


Ruslav shrugged, and fixed him with a heavy-eyed stare. "I will be 
ready when you wish to try again." 


Lord Henry cried out, as his colleague gathered energy from the 
confluence, "Wait, what are you doing? Qy'phrenos, what is the 
meaning of this?". With a flash of light the group of alchemists in 
front of Ruslav dissipated in to the ether. 


Elder Trismegistus strode forward to where Ruslav stood, and put a 
hand on his shoulder. "Well. This isn't good." 


Ruslav sighed heavily, and rested his heavy Cold Iron crozier on his 
shoulder. "It is time to deliver the message | came here to give." 


... The Great Seal. It was a theory of my late master. As the only remaining 
member of the Seventh Circle, and last heir to Elder Hayyan, I propose we 
put all efforts towards enacting the Seal. It will take many years to gather the 
required energies and allies, but if we do not start now, our world will forever 
be terrorized by the entities that consider human lives and fates a 
plaything... 


-Excerpt, First address of the College of the Citadel, by Elder Ruslav 
Diaghilev, Eldest of the Seventh Circle 


« Channeling Flows | Restoring Harmony | Lepidoptraetheia » 


SCP-925: The Mushroom Cultist 


Item #: SCP-925 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: Specimens of SCP-925 are to 
be kept in individual standard 5 meter by 5 meter steel cells. Twice a 
day, 285g of various fungi are to be pushed through a door slot and 
into the cell using the provided pole. 


Personnel transporting SCP-925 specimens are to wear steel mesh 
suits underneath Level D HAZMAT equipment. Should Level 0 
personnel and above physically contact a specimen without the 
aforementioned equipment, a class B amnestic is to be 
administered, followed by transfer to another project. Class D 
personnel are to be terminated. 


Description: Physically, the species SCP-925 appears near- 
identical to a male human. Mentally, SCP-925 who have cooperated 
exhibit behaviors on par with high-functioning autism. 


Personnel interacting with a specimen report that it seems "normal, 
but slow, acting as if inebriated or impaired." This seems to be 
deliberate on the specimen's part, in order to be dismissed by those 
surrounding it, allowing it to close on potential victims. 


SCP-925 specimens appear to be intersex. Specimens in 
confinement refuse to reproduce, and the act has yet to be observed 
in the wild. 


When a SCP-925 specimen makes physical contact with a human, 
the victim will become more sympathetic to the specimen. If physical 
contact is maintained for more than 3-5 minutes, the affected human 
will become completely devoted to the specimen. 


Once a specimen has gathered between 10 and 30 followers, it will 


Retirement Policy 


It was a rather late night in the Site-19 cafeteria. Though the 
Foundation never slept, most of its workers did. The majority of the 
site staff was either back at their homes, or in on-site housing 
facilities. Of course, there was still a night shift, but it was a skeleton 
crew compared to the regular day shift. It was just security and 
custodial staff, with the odd researcher or two who ended up ona 
doctor's bad side. The cafeteria itself was run by a single galley 
chef, whose only job at this hour was to cater to anybody craving a 
midnight snack. 


However, tonight was different. In the far corner of the room sat four 
individuals, laughing (well, three of them, anyway) and drinking. Yes, 
alcohol was strictly prohibited on-site for a variety of reasons. 
However, it was a rule that was widely ignored for a variety of 
reasons. Besides, it wasn’t as if there was anybody around to call 
them out on it. 


“Congratulations, Dr. Ryan.” Agent Williams smiled as he took a sip 
of cheap beer. The young agent was leaning back in his chair as if 
he didn't have a care in the world. “As of two minutes ago, you are 
Officially no longer in the employ of the Foundation.” 


“Good to know.” Dr. Adrian Ryan yawned. Already pushing sixty, Dr. 
Ryan was in no condition to stay up late, much less keep up with the 
everyday demands of Foundation employment. “After having to deal 
with XK end-of-the-world scenarios every other day, it’s nice to know 
that it’s officially somebody else’s problem.” 


“And as per standard operating procedure, you'll have to submit to 
one last search in order to ensure you're not bringing any of your 
research or any materials that can be traced back to the 
Foundation,” Agent Richards said in a business-like manner, the 
harsh stare of her purple eyes contrasting sharply with her pale 
white skin. 


“Ah, there you go, spoiling the mood again.” MTF Sergeant Ronald 
Paccone laughed. He was a grizzled old veteran with unshaven 
stubble on his chin and hair that was already beginning to grey. 
“Give the guy a break, he’s finally moving on in life.” 


As with everything in existence, all good things had to come to an 
end. For Dr. Ryan, after thirty years of groundbreaking research, 
averting the apocalypse, and witnessing things no human can truly 
comprehend, he was finally going to leave it all behind. 


“So, I’m curious.” Williams leaned forward in his seat. “What exactly 
are you planning to do now?” 


“Oh, I'll probably go into teaching.” Ryan grinned. “With the 
references and job history the Foundation set me up with, I’m 
already getting quite a few offers.” 


“That’s good to hear.” Williams nodded. 


“Now that | think about it, what are you three planning to do?” Ryan 
asked curiously. “I know of several colleagues who are in teaching 
and research positions now, but | never heard of any Agents or MTF 
operatives retiring.” 


Paccone’s smile instantly wore away. Williams' remained, but it was 
obvious that it had lost its warmth and friendliness. Richards, 
however, kept her usual stoic and cold demeanor. 


“Did | say something wrong?” Ryan was confused. 


“Well Doctor, it’s an issue that those in our circles never quite want 
to talk about.” Williams sighed. “Especially people like us. Do you 
have any family?” 


“Why, yes. My wife, three kids, and | have grandchildren on the 
way.” 


“And | suppose you’re going to spend your newfound free time with 
them?” 


“Of course,” Ryan said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the 
world. 


“See, there’s the difference that lies between you and us,” Williams 
explained. “You have the luxury of having a life outside of the 
Foundation, something to go back to when you decide to call it quits. 
However, we’re not quite so fortunate.” 


“How so?”