People who weren't scared were furious. They felt 
betrayed. They thought the Party had abandoned them. 


Everyone talks about the fine line between genius and 
madness. | don't think there is a line, at least not at the 
moment. The line comes later, determined by whether or 
not the end result is useful. 


1960, WestCivvies just barely keep the White House. 
Then they struck. 


"Okay," they basically said, "we'll give you want you 
want. Here's your shot at freedom." 


Practically overnight, they passed hundreds of bills 
through Congress, revoking old segregation laws and 
forcibly integrating whites and non-whites. Of course 
there was trouble. Rioting in some places, white boycotts 
and black counter-boycotts. But it kept. No one knew 
how the WestCivvies passed the laws, but they had 
convinced all their Party heads to vote for them. 


Dr. : How do you feel? 

SCP-925-D-1: I'm great. 

Dr. : What is your opinion on SCP-925? 
SCP-925-D-1: They're great. 

Dr. : Do you find anything detestable about 
SCP-925? 

SCP-925-D-1: NO! 


SCP-925-D-1 upended the table and advanced on Dr. , who fled 
the room. The interview was postponed until SCP-925-D-1 became 
compliant. The interview resumed with two guards present. 


Dr. : Do you find anything noble about SCP-925? 
SCP-925-D-1: They give us a purpose. 

Dr. : What is that purpose? 

SCP-925-D-1: They give us a purpose. 


Dr. : Would you like the treatment we told you about? 
SCP-925-D-1: No! 
Dr. : Very well. Thank you for your time. You will be 


escorted back to your cell. 
SCP-925-D-1: Away from him? 

Dr. : Yes. 

SCP-925-D-1: *Screaming incoherently* 


SCP-925-D-1 lunged at Dr. , closing most of the distance before 
being killed by Guard 


« SCP-924 | SCP-925 | SCP-926 » 


I'm simplifying the process, clearly. Politics is complex 
and | could go on for pages on all the politics involved in 
that. Ultimately it doesn't matter because it was alla 
sham. 


It worked so beautifully, you'd think every white business 
owner, landlord, entrepreneur, civil servant, and politician 
in America was in on it, but they weren't. It was a coldly 
executed plot that needed nothing more than pure 
racism to succeed. 


Imagine, if you will, a group of monkeys, building a tower 
to the sky to live in, work in, play in, eat in. They build the 
tower for monkeys, with niches and handles for chimp 
hands to grab on and dig in to, for them to hoist 
themselves up. Food meant for monkeys, beds meant for 
monkeys, entertainment meant for monkeys. 


Now imagine a group of small horses comes to live with 
them. They grudgingly allow the horses to stay and live 
with them, eat with them, sleep and play with them. The 
monkeys head up their tower, and invite the horses to 
come up with them. 


How does a horse climb a tower meant for monkeys to 
climb? 


How does a horse subsist on food meant for monkeys? 
Sleep on beds meant for monkeys? 


It took more than 10 years, but that did it. The WestCiv 
plan was masterfully executed. America had spent 
hundreds of years being built for white men. It spent 
decades after the Civil War being socially stratified, 
favoring whites. The WestCivvies then brought everyone 
together and told them to go on about life as usual. How 
were the non-whites supposed to thrive in a society built 
for whites? 


Imagine two men. Both have wives and two children. 
Both have a nice savings to buy a new house in a new 


neighborhood and start new jobs. The white man gets 
hired easily, and buys a nice new house within his 
budget. The black man isn't hired — the law states that 
an employer cannot refuse to hire a man based on the 
color of his skin, but the law also says an employer does 
not have to disclose to an individual why they were not 
hired. The black man is shown houses further away from 
the neighborhood's prime real estate, and incentives are 
made to prevent him from getting the best possible home 
for his money. 


The white man goes on working, making money, and 
sustaining his family. The black man cannot get hired by 
a good company. He barely makes ends meet. He 
struggles just to survive, much less prosper. Then an 
enterprising individual comes to the black man with an 
offer; help me sell this, help me do that. He is offered 
great sums of money to do jobs that are considered 
unseemly at best, and quite possibly illegal. 


And so the cycle goes. Spin it long enough, and you 
have what we had by the mid-70s. The WestCivwvies 
didn't need to say anything; people saw what they were 
meant to see. The message: "Here is proof that whites 
are the superior race, and that non-whites were never 
meant to be our equals. Given equal chance and 
opportunities, equal standing under the law, the whites 
thrived as usual, and the non-whites devolved into 
squalor, drugs, and crime." 


You wouldn't believe how difficult it was for people to put 
the whole sequence of events together and realize the 
game was rigged from the start. Non-whites were given 
their ticket to ride, then dropped off fifteen miles from the 
station without a compass. 


In less than a year, pretty much everything was undone, 
and it was back to the system you see now. They called 
it "Segregation" back then, they call it "Paternalism" now. 


Western Civ science (in)action. 


From the Office of Ret. Lt. Col. Umber 


« Motivation of Man | Rigged from the Start | Voice of Decay » 
Anabasis Hub 


Right? 


“Sign the form on lines 3, 5, 18, and 23. This last statement is 
finalizing the agreement that in return for a month of service in 
scientific testing for the Foundation, you will be released from your 
death row sentencing. Remember that the work that you're doing 
here will benefit the world,” the dry, bored looking, yet somehow 
familiar legal assistant stated, as he droned off a piece of paper. 


“And as long as | do this month of uh...science testing for humanity, 
| go free? No questions asked?” | replied, somewhat hesitant. 


“So long as you do not disclose any information gained while testing, 
you are free to return to your pre-incarceration life without any 
penalties. You will not be reimbursed for this period of time spent in 
incarceration or testing,” the legal assistant replied. He tapped his 
pen somewhat impatiently. 


“Well, anything’s better than this, right?” | said back. “I just want to 
say, thank you for this opportunity.” On an impulse, | grabbed the 
man’s hand, and shook it vigorously. 


His eyes widened in surprise, as if he really noticed me for the first 
time. As he met my eyes, he suddenly glanced away quickly, as if 
he saw something in my eyes. “No problem, sir. | hope that this is a 
mutually profitable relationship,” he replied, as if distracted. He 
looked away with a disgusted look on his face. 


As the guards began to lead me out of the room, | began to think 
quietly to myself. 


A month wasn’t too long. | could do that. I’d be able to see my family 
soon. 


Right? 


"Open the door, get in, and walk down the path. Got it?" The 
researcher impatiently tapped his pen. 


"And you're saying that the key....changes what's behind the door?" 
Vanki asked the doctor, skeptically. 


"Yes. Just walk down the path, and you'll be fine." The researcher 
replied. "Get in quickly though. We've never tested this before with 
multiple people." 


| looked at Ramirez. He shrugged at me, as the guards guided us to 
the door leading to the decontamination chamber. Tyler was handed 
the key. He inserted it into the door, somewhat hesitantly. 


He turned the key, and opened the door. What greeted us was not 
the sterile walls and equipment of the decontamination chamber, but 
a misty forest scene. 


We all recoiled back in shock. 


"Jesus, it actually worked," Ramirez breathed. "What the hell is 
this?" 


| stared in shock. It actually worked. "I-is this magic or something?" 


A voice over the PA system came on. "D-class personnel, please 
enter the forest." 


We grabbed each other's hands, as instructed, and quickly filed into 
the door. It slammed shut behind us as soon as Ramirez, bringing 
up the rear, made it through. 


We turned on our flashlights, and started to walk down the path. 


"What the hell is this place? This is creepy as fuck, man." Vanki 
said, as he lead the group. 


"| don't know man. Let's just get through this place. Sooner the 30 
days are up, the better, as far as I'm concerned,” Tyler responded. 


As we walked through the forest, a voice came crackling over the 
radio clipped to Vanki's belt. "D-class personnel, do you report any 


changes in health or mood?" 
"Nah, doc, feeling pretty good," Vanki responded. 
"Please proceed as planned.” 


The eerie mist seemed to encroach as we followed the path through 
the forest. The dark night sky stretched on and on, engulfing us in its 
mysterious, foreboding embrace. 


"| do NOT like the feeling of this place. Where are we, even?" | 
shivered, glancing around. 


"Doesn't look like any place I've heard of. I'm more concerned with 
how we got here." Vanki muttered. 


Suddenly, | thought that | heard something in the forest. "Did you 
guys hear that?" 


Ramirez froze. "Yeah. Sounded like some animal." 


We all paused. | swung my flashlight through the woods. It yielded 
nothing but the tangled expanse of trees and undergrowth. 


"You're hearing things. Easy to get paranoid in here, | guess," Tyler 
offered. 


"| could've sworn that | heard something," | replied. 

We continued along the path. | remained on the alert. 

Then, | heard the sound again. 

"There it is again! It sounded closer this time, | swear," | insisted. 
"I'm hearing it too, guys. I'm freaking out a little," Ramirez gulped. 
"Are you sure you he-" Vanki began. 


Suddenly, we heard an earth-shattering roar, as something barreled 
out of the woods at us. 


"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?" Ramirez screamed. | ignored him as 


we broke into a dead sprint. 


We sprinted through the woods, as fast as we could, ignoring the 
other sounds and roars that came from the forest. As we kept 
running, the thing kept roaring and chasing after us. Suddenly, a 
break through the mist revealed a door identical to the one that we 
came in. 


"There's the door! Hurry up! Ramirez!" Vanki shouted. 


Ramirez screamed as he tripped, and fell to the ground. | paused for 
a moment, but Vanki grabbed my arm. 


"Too late man, we gotta go!" He yelled into my face. 
"But, Ramirez-" 
"Too late man!" 


"Help! Jesus fucking Christ, help me, | think my ankle's twisted. Oh 
god, oh god, oh god." Ramirez sobbed, as he tried to crawl closer to 
us. 


Tyler jammed the key in the door, tears streaming down his face. He 
threw it open, revealing the decontamination chamber. 


"OH FUCK IT'S GETTING CLOSER! HELP! HELP ME GUYS! | 
DON'T WANNA DIE!" Ramirez screamed at us, his voice breaking 
as he sobbed helplessly. 


Vanki pushed me in, as the three of us made it through the door. As 
he slammed it shut, | heard a new scream from Ramirez. The last 
look that | saw of him was his outstretched hand, reaching towards 
us. 


The guards took us back to our cell. We trudged along silently. They 
pushed us into our cell and slammed the door shut. 


Tyler climbed up into his bed and faced the wall. Vanki stood, facing 
the wall. | was stretched on my bed. The bunk above me was 
conspicuously empty. 


Vanki suddenly kicked the wall. "What the fuck was that?" 
"| don't know man, | don't know," Tyler said, in between sobs. 


"I've been through some rough shit before, but nothing like this. 
What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?" Vanki sighed, as he 
sat down, putting his head in his hands. 


| spoke up. 


“You know, we signed those forms. They have to let us go. It’s all 
been recorded. They can’t go back on their word now. It's only a 
month.” | offered, somewhat hopefully. 


The glares from Tyler and Vanki were all | needed to see to gauge 
what they thought of that. 


But, it was recorded. They had to let us go. 


Right? 


As the guards opened the doors and chambers leading to the testing 
chamber, we stood around in our bulky heat-resistant suits. They 
were tough to move in, and that was compounded by the huge blast- 
shields and fire extinguishers that we were also forced to carry. 
Tyler carried a large container of gasoline on his back. Vanki and | 
flanked him. 


“Remember, go in, drop the fuel, and get out. Stay too long, and we 
can’t guarantee your safety,” the guard reminded us. 


“Since when have you bastards ever guaranteed our safety?” Vanki 
shot back. 


The guard narrowed his eyes at us, but said nothing. Finally, a 
green light flickered on above us, and the guard slammed the 
button. 


“Go, go, go!” He yelled at us. 


We began to jog through the last chamber. Vanki and | brought up 


the front as Tyler jogged closely behind. The bulky suits were hard 
to run in, and | almost tripped a few times. 


It became unbearably hot as we suddenly found ourselves in a 
small, humid room. In an offset alcove, a flame seemed to flicker at 
our appearance. 


Quickly, we stopped and faced the flame. Tyler quickly took off the 
container of gasoline on his back, and placed it on the ground. 
Seeing the pack, the flame flickered again, and began to race 
towards it. 


“Let’s get out of here!” Vanki yelled, as we suddenly turned around. | 
nodded, and we began to run out. 


However, as we turned to run, we heard a yelp behind us. Turning 
around, | saw Tyler trip and fall to the ground, tripping on the bulky 
suit. At the same time, the flame reached the gasoline container, 
and suddenly exploded into a much larger form. It seemed to 
pounce on Tyler with glee. 


Tyler screamed. 


The suit began to melt, as the flame hungrily attacked it. The 
overhead sprinklers exploded into action, drenching the flame with 
water, as we were suddenly jolted by the abrupt change. 


We unleashed the fire extinguishers on the flame, which hissed and 
crackled, as it was driven back to its alcove. We grabbed Tyler and 
dragged him out of the chamber. 


As we made our way out, | heard Tyler moan. Glancing down, | 
almost puked. The entire lower half of the suit was a melted slag-like 
mess. Tyler kept moaning, and it sounded like he was crying too. 
Vanki glanced down and winced, his face turning white. 


"Hold on, Tyler, just hold on. We'll get you to a doctor, just hold on 
buddy." | reassured Tyler. He only moaned louder in response. 


"Guys...I-I can't feel my legs. | can't feel much guys. W-why does it 
hurt?" Tyler whispered. 


"It's okay, you're going to be alright. Just...just hold on, okay?" | 
replied, biting my lip. 


"| don't want to hurt anymore," Tyler whimpered. 


Finally, we cleared the last containment chamber, and dragged what 
was left of Tyler through the door. A team of doctors swarmed us as 
we passed through. Vanki and | tried to ease Tyler out of the suit, 
but he kept screaming whenever we tried to pull him out. The slag of 
the suit had melted to portions of his body, and we couldn't get him 
out easily. 


The guards grabbed us before we could keep helping, and forced us 
to take off the heat-resistant suits, before they yanked us back to our 
cell, without a word. 


As we were forced back to our cell, we heard screams coming from 
the nearby medical wing. It sounded like Tyler. 


| went back to my chamber with Vanki. He walked over to our toilet, 
fell to his knees, and vomited. 


Later, a notice came to us that Tyler had been terminated to "put 
him out of his pain." 


Only 20 more days. They had to let us go. 


Right?