"Yep," Alexandra, the coordinator of the Special Robotics 
Department responded. "| do hope you've gotten enough rest, 
mentally, of course. The rest of the team is already waiting for you." 
She then wasted no time to help Anderson from the chair and began 
to lead him towards the common room. 


"Um, I'm sorry, Alex," Anderson asked as the office door closed 
behind him. "But what do you mean, team?" 


"Oh, the news came while you were sleeping. We're assembling a 
team to explore the interior of the 'Robo Limbo',” She said, 
dramatically making big air quotes with her hands. 


"| thought that would be up to Shaw and her—" 


"Heeeeey sup! Mr. Anderson!" A green-haired young man jumped 
out of the common room and patted Anderson on the shoulder, 
interrupting his question. 


Anderson winced slightly at the sight of the overzealous AIAD bot. 
He was never quite used to the temperament of the Foundation 
AlCs, for they were never quite human enough and not as 
comfortable to be around as his own androids. But of course, the 
work was still impressive; he himself couldn't write code like this. So 
instead, he resorted to curse the engineer of the personality drives 
in his head. 


SCP-786: Funnel Factor Twelve 


Item #: SCP-786 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-786 is not autonomous 
and its peculiar properties appear to be both safe and predictable. It 
is to be kept in a secure storage room at Site 19 with standard 
surveillance precautions in place. However, it is important that the 
storage room be kept secure against vermin of any sort. The room 
must be sealed to prevent entry by insects, rodents, and other small 
creatures, and fumigated on a bi-monthly basis. 


Description: SCP-786 is a large funnel composed of high-density 

polymer. Its appearance matches a conventional kitchen 
funnel, and the symbols "8 OZ." are embossed on the outside just 
under the rim of the large end, but the funnel has an internal 
diameter of 1.14 m across its wide end and 9.50 cm across its 
narrow end. Its internal volume is 408.8 liters, which is 
approximately 1730 times larger than its professed 8 ounce capacity 
or a factor of 123. 


A simple visual inspection of SCP-786's interior immediately 
suggests its unusual properties. When viewed from either end of the 
funnel the interior of SCP-786 appears to be perfectly cylindrical, 
with the far end of the funnel having exactly the same diameter as 
the near end - whether that end be the larger one or the smaller one. 
The view through the far end's opening is enlarged or reduced 
accordingly. Any object that passes through SCP-786 will have its 
physical dimensions changed by a factor of twelve, either increasing 
or decreasing depending on which direction the object passes 
through the funnel. This change is permanent unless the object 
comes back through the funnel in the opposite direction. 


It is theorized that space has somehow become "pinched" through 
the throat of this item, causing items to appear larger or smaller 


"That's quite enough," Alex smiled, shooed Thorn away and gently 
pushed Anderson inside. 


He saw yet another familiar artificial face and realized this must be 
way more serious than he had hoped. Nevertheless, he greeted 
Grape, the third AIAD robot, who only grunted in return. Looking 
around, he also saw a few agents sitting around, notably 
Commander Shaw, who was helping herself to some juice. Hector 
was nowhere to be seen but Researcher Conwell was helping the 
agents with some equipment. 


"So," Anderson finally said. "What is this about, may | ask?" 


"Oh, we're going into 3560. Because all the Robotics department 
androids are in for inspection and review right now, me, Grape and 
Throne are helping with the mission," Alex explained. "Lawbringers 
have already covered the basic grounds, and we have a secure 
route out in case anything happens. And... lemme check, MTF 
Tau-51, Urban Brawl will have our back outside the portal." 


"And I'm sure | will be helping remotely over the radio?" Anderson 
asked hopefully. 


"I'm sorry, Vincent," Alex smiled politely. "But | will be directing the 
mission. You will go in with the rest of the team." 


"There must have been some kind of mix up. I'm uh, not exactly 
good with field work." 


"Oh | dunno. I'd say your lighting cannon was pretty impressive," 
Shaw cut into the conversation, finishing off her drink. "So 
impressive in fact, it burnt down half of this department?" 


"But clearly you have way more experienced agents," Anderson 
swallowed but only felt dryness in his throat. 


"Whose life shouldn't be thrown into the murderous 
extradimensional hell you created." Shaw made no attempt to hide 
her aggression. 


Fortunately, Alex put herself between the agent and Anderson 
timely. "You have the most knowledge about SCP-3560, Vincent. 


We really need an expert in there as well." 
"But" 


"Mr. Anderson, it would be the best for you to go with this mission." 
Alex said apologetically. However, there was a certain sternness in 
her voice. "| have clear orders." 


"Oh yeah, between this and the Phineas incident, you're in a very 
dangerous place, Vinny." Throne chimed in, a completely 
unsuccessful attempt to lift the mood, taking the situation entirely too 


lightly. 


Anderson stiffened. As much as he want to believe that it was 
Holman setting him up, he knew that Alex must have taken the order 
from even higher up. This was a warning to him. He had started to 
miss his long gone status of a Pol — at least back then he only had 
being locked in a cell instead of termination to worry about. He had 
always been afraid of the possibility, even made plans ahead of 
time. But it had not come to that yet, so he simply nodded. 


"Great," Agent Shaw said dryly. "Let's head off." 


As Anderson walked among the shadowy trees and the thick fog, 
taking shelter between armed MTF agents and armoured bots, he 
felt somewhat surreal and ridiculous, as if he had been placed into a 
stereotypical horror movie. But the moment he stepped into the 
portal, he had felt a chill down his spine, despite his receptors 
incapable of such sensations. If he were to think about it more 
rationally, it must have been the thaumaturgical signature of the 
place; but right now he couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated. 


After all, despite what others might think, he knew next to nothing 
about this place. The theory had been proposed, but back then they 
were way more interested in putting andorids together than worry 
about the potential consequences. Even Phineas, the more careful 
of the two, was not presistent in looking into it. There were concerns, 
but they were put aside, and the theory was shelved. He knew souls 
would be stuck, but had little idea of what they would be like, and 
even less of an idea of what their torment would generate. 


So far, the team went on without accident; the whole place seemed 
awfully quiet and undisturbed, despite a slight rotting scent. Alex's 
voice over the radio guided the team cautiously, and it reassured 
him to a degree. Most of the team had their weapons ready to go, 
and the two bots were already scanning and mapping the area. 


But then, footsteps, statics, and the rustle of the leaves all broke out 
at once. 


It was Throne who first recognized the ambush and alerted the 
team, but it didn't buy them much time. Android souls that had 
blended too well with the environment had charged out of the thick 
fog, hundreds in number. Then again, "charge" was an 
overstatement, as their bodies were tattered, many of them barely 
held together, sustaining the damage that caused them to expire. 
Nevertheless, there was strength in numbers, and the team was 
surrounded. 


They returned fire but this only served to slow the androids' 
advance. When one fell down, more rushed on, and seconds later 
even the fallen ones would start to crawl fowards once more. As 
bullets impacted their already tattered bodies, Anderson wondered if 
the removal of pain receptors from the majority of the androids was 
such a good idea afterall. On the one hand, there were no cries of 
pain; yet on the other hand, they inched on despite the damage. 


The team fell back as they fired, but soon their rear was under 
attack too. The radio buzzed as Alex started to call for backup, but 
they couldn't have come to the rescue quick enough. One of the 
androids finally got close enough, and suddenly exploded, releasing 
a great wave of light, which swept across the whole team. As the 
light reached him, Anderson felt no heat. When his systems were 
back on again moments later, he found himself alone. 


He tried the radio, but only static come out; something was 
interfering with the transmission. Anderson swallowed and 
surpressed the wild and terrible guesses sprouting from his mind; 
those would only make the situation worse. He pulled up his guiding 
system, came up with the rest of the directions with his guts, and 
walked on. 


His footsteps echoed, and everything else dissolved into shades of 
grey. Tree after tree, clouded by the fog, it all looked the same. He 
desperately marched on, while at the same time afraid that drastic 
movements would attract unwanted attention. The feeling that some 
of the souls were more than eager to see him kept coming back to 
him, and he felt his steps getting heavier. 


At this point, he was slightly regretting not taking Phineas' 
suggestion more seriously and devoting time to create actual Als, 
instead of going for the easy way out to save the funds. 


Anderson suddenly stopped moving forward. Right in front of him, 
there was a figure. Because of the fog and his perplexed state, he 
didn't even notice it until they were meters apart. Taking the sight in, 
what little of the blood he had left in his body ran cold. It all made 
sense now; the team was never the target, their goal was him all 
along. 


It was his old friend, Phineas. Or the Saker bot he made to be 
Phineas, to be exact. In his chest, a huge hole burnt through by 
charges of electricity still visible. 


Shit. 


Anderson turned to run, but the Phineas Saker leapt forward to 
tackle him. 


"What's up, Vincent? Don't want to chat with an old friend?" The 
dead android roared, his voice accompanied by a thick static sound. 


The robot in the shape of an old man briefly gained the upper hand, 
but Anderson managed to turn over to face him. Kicking what was 
left of Phineas’ stomach, he managed to wrestle himself out. The 
Foundation's tech had gotten better over the years, and Anderson 
received his share of updates. 


"|-I'm sorry," Anderson said, as he stood up and raised his arm 
towards Phineas. "But, um, you should be dead." 


Phineas had stumbled to the ground. "| warned you about this! Look 
at what you have done," the droid stared at Anderson. "And now, 


because of you, I'm stuck here as well." 


"Yet, last | remembered, you also went along with it," Anderson 
couldn't bring his gaze to meet with Phineas’. "I'm sorry, but | really 
need to get out of here now." 


Anderson fired his electricity weapon. A loud crackling sound rang 
out, yet, there were only the tiniest sparks of electricity. Anderson 
was stunned as he realized that the environment must have 
interfered with the workings of his thaumaturgy device. 


Phineas only smiled. Taking the chance, he lept forward once again 
and grabbed Anderson's weapon arm. With a painful shriek, the arm 
was torn off. 


"Your pretty magic tricks won't work here, Vincent." Phineas said, 
this time grabbing Anderson's throat. "You're staying here with us, 
paying for your mistakes." 


"And I'm guessing my head alone would be enough for you?" 
Anderson decided to struggle, albeit without much success. 


Phineas tightened his grip, but a moment later the arm holding 
Anderson's throat began to melt. It was now the Saker's turn to 
shriek in pain. It was the very dissolving agent Phineas himself had 
invented for disposing of robots that was now eating away his body. 


"Well, glad that | have a, uh, backup plan then." Anderson got back 
up, still holding a few globs of blue and orange in his hand. 


"You're not getting out of this," The android roared. "I'll heal, and I'll 
go after you." 


"I'm sure you will, old friend." Anderson said as he tossed several 
orange spheres at him. The goo stuck Phineas to the spot, and he 
could only curse as the substance quickly hardened. 


Anderson sat down to catch his breath. As he regained his 
composure, he took off his silver mask as large chunks of it were 
also damaged by the dissolving goo. As he did so, Phineas stopped 
cursing and looked up, staring at his once friend intensely. Anderson 
didn't look back. 


A few moments later, distantly, a few shouts were heard, and gunfire 
rang out. The static faded and Anderson's radio started to buzz 
slightly. 


"I'm sorry, Phineas. But | believe |, um, should go now." 


As he got up, the now trapped android started to cackle. "You think 
this is over?" He said with a broken voice. "Oh, you will be here with 
us, Vincent. You're always afraid that one day you will run out of 
your usefulness. You think | didn't know you had made a Saker for 
yourself? You've sealed your own fate!" 


Anderson felt his blood become even colder, but he didn't allow the 
feeling to surface. He turned away from the broken android on the 
ground. "Goodbye." 


As he walked off towards the direction of the sound, laughters 
echoed behind him. The leaves of the ghostly forest rustled, and 
became quiet once again. 


Animalia 


INTERNAL MEMO 


ACCESS LIMITED TO SECURITY CLEARANCE 
L-1/883 AND HIGHER 


DO NOT COPY OR REDISTRIBUTE 


re: SCP-883 Containment & Research Procedures 
Updates, Effective 1999-03-13 


Following the events that occurred on 1999-01-25, 
exploration within SCP-883 has been restricted to 6.5 
kilometers or less. Should any insects show unexpected 
levels of aggression, all personnel will immediately 
retreat to no more than 1.0 kilometers from the entrance 
until such time as the on-site MTF has investigated and 
the lead researchers have cleared the incident. Meetings 
providing the full details of the new security procedures 
are being scheduled. See your section leader for 
assigned times. 


Honey harvesting will continue as currently scheduled, 
with the guard force increased by 50%. Remember that 
no more than 1 liter should be harvested from any given 
5 meter length of honeycomb. Additionally, new kevlar 
protective suits have been developed and will be 
assigned as of the effective date listed above. 


MTF n-5 will be dissolved and the surviving members 
reassigned. MTF C-9 will be transferred in until such time 
as MTF r-5 is re-formed. Please welcome the "Mole 
Rats" to their new assignment. 


| have dreams of it, you know. Flying and falling and floating. Deep 
blue sea that is filled with a vast buzz of scales against wings. The 
details differ; sometimes I'm swimming with the fishes, sometimes 
it's the birds and the bees. But | always dive deeper, deeper, deeper 
into the heart of the swarm, the school, the secret. 


The members of the new Recon Task Force designated Omicron-6 
were a Careful selection of ichthyologists, oceanographers, 
submarine and submersible operators, and agents with spatial 
distortions experience. As the only member of MTF Eta-5 with 
underwater combat training, Agent Patricia Ortiz was a perfect 
choice. After her initial briefing into SCP-850's security and 
containment protocols, she was somewhat disturbed. As far as the 
Foundation grapevine was concerned, SCPs were pretty much all 
unique, and to find a pair of disconnected ones that were so similar 
was disconcerting.