“Welcome aboard!” 


Phineas slowly made his way through the crowded lunchroom 
before returning to his seat at an empty table, a newly opened bottle 
of beer in his left hand. He watched the various hobnobbers 
socialize around him. Most of the crowd consisted of Anderson 
Robotics employees, patrons, or personal friends of Vincent 
Anderson. A few representatives of Marshall, Carter, and Dark also 
were in attendance, their business attire looking out of place among 
the casual outfits of the majority of the Anderson staff. 


Phineas took a long sip from his beer and looked across the room. A 
banner reading “10,000 SOLD!” stretched across the far wall. He 
closed his eyes and sighed. 


“Is someone being a party pooper?” a bubbly voice asked. Phineas 


opened his eyes to the site of a short, middle aged woman with 
shoulder length brunette hair and faint blue eyes. She wore a 
flowered sun dress and smiled warmly as she took the seat across 
from him. “It’s as much your day as it is ours. You should be 
ecstatic.” 


“| think he removed his ability to feel joy when he put on that last 
prosthetic,” said a tall, lanky young man who took the seat next to 
her. His eyes were slightly obscured behind a mop of curly blond 
hair, but the thick glasses he wore were still plain as day. When he 
wasn't speaking his lips seemed to permanently be turned up ina 
smirk. “Still, in all seriousness, you’re the man of the hour. The 
Gyrfalcon series would never have worked without you. This party 
might as well be for you.” 


“Afternoon Medea, Jason.” Phineas raised his eyebrows in 
amusement. “Always nice to see the dynamic duo. But your praise is 
poorly spent on me. You two were ones who finally got the damn 
things to work. It’s your baby now. I’m just the old fool who kept 
messing it up.” 


“Always so modest,” Medea said with a small laugh. “You need to 
start taking credit, Phineas. Out of all of us you’re the one who has 
poured their entire being into this company. We'd be dead in the 
water without you.” 


Phineas responded with a small shrug. 


“If you'll excuse me,” he said as he got to his feet and began to walk 
away. He crossed the room and entered the hallway. Jason was 
quick to follow. 


“Hey man,” he said as he placed himself in front of Phineas. “All my 
mom was trying to do was pay you a compliment. The least you 
could do is not be a monumental dick about it.” 


Phineas swiftly grabbed the boy by his arm and pulled him in close. 
Jason let out a small gasp in surprise. 


“| know about that little Nankeen project you were working on with 
Isaac, and about lan, and how you lost him to the Foundation,” 


Phineas whispered into Jason’s ear. “Now, | suggest that if you don't 
want me to tell Anderson you go right back the way you came and 
the two of you give me some space for today. | am in no mood to pat 
anyone, especially myself, on the back. Am | clear?” 


Phineas released the young man’s arm and watched as Jason took 
a few steps back. 


“Crystal...” 


Jason returned to the lunch room without another word. Phineas 
took a seat on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. He 
raised his beer in a mock toast. 


To the monumental dick, he thought to himself, and took another 
sip. 


+ January 10th, 1998 
January 10th, 1998 


Vince and Phineas sat in the living room of a small 
Seattle apartment. The room was sparsely furnished, 
save a couch against the far wall, and two desks 
weighed down with a menagerie of computers and 
software disks. A small pennant that read “Alexylva” was 
visible along the far wall. A little boy with curly blond hair 
rapidly typed away at one of the computers, the monitor 
reflecting in the lenses of his thick glasses. The boy’s 
mother returned from the kitchen with two mugs of 
coffee, her brunette hair tied back in a bun as she 
handed the beverages away. 


“Thank you very much,” Vince said as he accepted the 
drink and took a small sip. Over the course of the last 
few months Phineas had noticed his partner’s once tan 
skin fade into a pale, almost ivory-colored hue. His once 
proud and rebellious ponytail had been replaced by a 
shorter and more traditional cut, one that did not make 
his hair loss so obvious. Phineas accepted his own mug 


with a kind nod, his new left arm making an audible whirl 
as he brought the coffee to his mouth. 


“So, Medea,” Vince began, “What's this little guy’s name, 
and what on earth is he doing? If he types any faster 
he’s going to melt that keyboard.” 


“This little guy’s named Jason,” Medea gave a chuckle 
and ruffled the boy’s hair. “And, I’m not too sure what 
he’s currently working on.” 


“Star Wars!” Jason replied without missing a beat. 


“Oh right,” Medea smiled. “He’s programming himself a 
computer game.” 


Both Vince and Phineas looked to each other and 
nodded in approval. 


“You named your son Jason?” Phineas raised an 
eyebrow as he returned his gaze back to Medea. 


Medea rolled her eyes as she shook her head. 


“| didn’t name him anything, poor Jason’s parents died in 
a car accident when he was three. When I came across 
him in the adoption process the two of us just clicked. 
The name was just a coincidence.” 


Phineas nodded in understanding, and then looked back 
at the pennant on the far wall. 


“| understand you have a PhD in Computer Science. Is 
that your alma mater?” Phineas asked. “I’ve never heard 
of it before.” 


Medea frowned slightly. 


“That’s a long story, but yes. | don’t think anyone around 
here would have heard of Alexylva. All you need to know 
is that it’s a top notch technical college in Tennessee. 
Anyway... Rick said that you two had a job offer.” 


“Indeed we do,” Vince replied, and quickly opened his 
briefcase. He pulled out a smooth black ceramic disk and 
handed it to Medea. 


“Where on Earth did you get one of these?” Her face 
flushed for several seconds before she finally broke the 
silence. 


“That's not really important,” Vince replied. “What is 
important is we like your work, and want you to do similar 
projects for us down in Portland. In addition to helping us 
work on a few of our designs, you'll be given plenty of 
freedom to design your own products. Freedom you 
were denied from your previous employers, if | 
understand correctly.” 


‘I’m... I’m flattered, really... But | can’t just uproot 
everything on the spot. Jason has school, and...” 


“| think you should take the job,” Jason chimed in. 
“What dear?” Medea turned to her son in surprise. 


“| don’t mind switching schools,” Jason elaborated. “And 
you always talk about how much fun you had working on 
robots. | think you should take the job Mr. Anderson is 
offering.” 


“You really do, huh?” Medea grinned. She then looked 
back to Vince, and smiled. “I'd need time to put in my two 
weeks at my current job... and there’s finding out a new 
place to live... anew school... we haven't even 
discussed salary...” 


“Take all the time you need to prepare,” Phineas 
interrupted. “Vince and | will mail you a copy of your 
contract to sign before the end of the week. | think you'll 
find the pay to be quite generous. Plus there will always 
be a spot for Jason in our workshop, if he’s so inclined.” 


“Awesome!” Jason shouted, and ran over to Medea, 


grabbing her in a big hug. “You have got to take this job 
now!” 


Medea chuckled and nodded in understanding. 


“l guess | can’t say no,” she laughed. Vince extended a 
handshake which Medea enthusiastically took. 


“Welcome to Anderson Robotics,” he said. 


It was not long after that Vince and Phineas took their 
leave, stepping out of Medea’s apartment and into the 
cold Seattle rain. Phineas took one look back at their 
future employee and shook his head. 


“| hope she doesn’t take too long to get down to 
Portland,” he said. “We need the extra hands on deck as 
soon as possible. We’re completely back ordered on the 
Amur and Aplomado series.” 


Phineas looked up when heard footsteps. A middle aged man with 
dark skin approached, his face permanently pressed into an 
expression of worry. He carried a bottle of beer in his hand, and 
gave a small nod to Phineas. Trailing behind him was a young man 
in his mid-twenties. His skin was the same tone as the first man, and 
his head was shaved. 


“Thought you'd be running a little empty right about now,” the middle 
aged man said as he handed off the bottle to Phineas. The old man 
chuckled and popped the top off the bottle with his left hand. 


“Thanks, Jeffery.” Phineas took a long sip. “How’s it going? Enjoying 
the jubilations?” 


“It’s not really my thing,” Jeffery sighed. 
“How about you, Miles?” Phineas looked towards the young man. 


“It’s just a bunch of employees sucking up to the rich and 
successful.” The young man shrugged. “Not really my cup of tea, 
either.” 


“Guess we could start our own club,” Phineas chuckled and took 
another sip from his beer. 


“Miles, I'd like to speak to Phineas alone for a bit, do you mind?” 
Jeffery asked. Miles nodded and headed back into the lunch room. 
Jeffery watched the young man leave before turning back to 
Phineas. 


“| always appreciated that you call him Miles. Isaac insists on calling 
him Saker-00.” 


“Well, for all intents and purposes he is Miles.” 


“For the record, | told Anderson that this party wasn’t the best idea,” 
said Jeffery. “But he insisted that we have a reputation to uphold 
now, and that this event would be the perfect opportunity to up the 
ante with the investors.” 


“Anderson sure does love causing a spectacle,” Phineas sighed. “I 
appreciate the attempt though. Thanks.” 


“Any time.” Jeffery began to make his way back towards the lunch 
room door. “Are you coming back inside soon?” 


Phineas slowly nodded. 
“In a bit. Just let me finish this last beer.” 


Jeffery briefly smiled and headed back into the din of the party. 


+ December 17th, 2002 
December 17th, 2002 


As they sat at the kitchen table in a residence located in 
Beaverton, Phineas looked over Vincent out of the 
corner of his eye. His employer's skin was now 
completely ivory in color. His hair had long since fallen 
out, leaving him with a smooth scalp. Over his left eye he 
wore a silver eye patch. The changes had been gradual, 
but now that he had the time to look his friend over, the 


limited to: 


Designation Titie Genre Reiease Date 
SCP-597-01 Eskimo Moe platform Jan 1986 
SCP-597-03 Whap ‘Em! arcade shooter Jan 1986 
SCP-591-06 Dusky's platform Feb 1986 
Adventures in 
Staediand 

SCP-591-11 You Can Do survival horror} Apr 1986 
That on 
Television 

SCP-591-15 WLB Sports sports May 1986 
Deiuxe 

SCP-591-20 WWI Ace Trenchpuzzle Jul 1986 
Digger 

SCP-591-29 Led Zeppelin Air music/racing Oct 1986 
Racers 

SCP-591-38 Super Kick fighting Dec 1986 
Karate 

SCP-591-41 Super Kick fighting Feb 1987 
Karate 2010 

SCP-591-44 Final Kick Karetepinball Mar 1987 
Ultimate 
Greatness 


SCP-591-45 The Legend of} fighting/simulatorJun 1987 
Sword Master 

SCP-591-46 Reading educational Sep 1987 
Rainbow Sit arid 
Listen 


Whenever SCP-591-# is inserted into SCP-591 and activated, it 
creates a minimized and isolated CK-class reality restructuring 
scenario that resembles the game's intended content. Individuals 
inside these affected areas will usually assume the role of the 
games' main character/protagonist. This effect does not apply when 
a normal NES cartridge is inserted into SCP-591. 


Because of the degradation and age of SCP-591's electronic and 
computer components, the CK-class reality restructuring scenarios 
have an increased chance of becoming isolated ZK-class reality 


time had come to acknowledge Vincent was not 
necessarily the same man who had offered him a job 
that summer day in Portland. Phineas then looked 
himself over. He felt he might not be in any position to 
judge. After all, his left arm and both his legs had been 
replaced with prosthetics of his own design. Maybe this 
was just what working in their field did to people like 
them. 


Phineas then looked over to the android that stood at the 
far side of the room. A dark skinned gentleman in his 
early thirties examined it in awe. Eventually he returned 
his attention to Vincent and Phineas, and then whistled. 


“| have to hand it to you, it’s an impressive design,” he 
said. “But what exactly is it?” 


“That's the prototype for our new Peregrine series,” 
Vincent replied. “They’re guaranteed to be one of our top 
sellers once we get all the bugs hammered out. That’s 
actually why we're here, Jeffery. I'd like your help to 
finish it. A mutual associate of ours informed us that you 
were working on a new form of Al at Prometheus Labs 
before their big meltdown.” 


“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jeffery sighed. “That 
project was a dead end from the start. The tech won't 
exist for a long, long time.” 


“You're saying that while we literally have an android 
standing behind you?” Phineas asked with one eyebrow 
raised. 


“An android that I’m assuming is dumb as a post,” Jeffery 
returned. “You guys want me to provide you with Als, 
right? Well believe me when | say that it’s not going to 
happen.” 


“Why is that?” Vincent inquired. 


“You want the explanation? Fine,” Jeffery snapped. “My 


model basically involved mapping out a human brain 
digitally, and then replicating that consciousness in 
digital space. | got the mapping part up and running, but 
then PL imploded, and soon after that my son was 
diagnosed with small cell carcinoma. | tried to finish the 
project on my own to hopefully save Miles, but like | said, 
the technology simply wasn’t there, and then Miles died. 
You're wasting your time!” 


The room fell silent. Jeffery simply looked down at the 
floor. 


“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Phineas. 
“Yeah... so am I,” Jeffery replied. 


Vincent then placed his briefcase on the table, breaking 
the silence with the clicking of the locks. He pulled out 
several papers and diagrams and slid them across the 
table, most were labeled “PEREGRINE” but the page on 
top said “SAKER”. Jeffery read them intently and then 
looked behind him at the Peregrine unit for a few 
moments before snapping his head back to Vincent. 


“We have the technology you're missing,” Vincent 
smiled. “Well, technically | suppose it’s more of a form of 
magic, but I digress. Did you map out Miles’s mind 
before he passed?” 


“|... uh, I...” Jeffery stuttered for several moments before 
he nodded. 


“Come work for us,” Vincent cooed, “Help us smarten up 
the Peregrine series, and | promise you that Phineas and 
! will help you get Miles back.” 


Jeffery nodded. He closed his eyes, and turned towards 
the window. 


“Deal,” he said with a deep breath. 


Vincent gave Phineas a satisfied nod. The two men 


placed a trench coat over the Peregrine unit and began 
to make their way towards the door. Along the way, 
Phineas stopped and placed a hand on Jeffery’s 
shoulder. 


“Welcome to the team,” he said. 


Vincent and Phineas then left the residence, loading up 
into a plain white van they had rented for the occasion. 


“That should solve the Peregrine problem,” Vincent said 
with satisfied smile. 


“Maybe if we’re lucky we'll get the Saker series up and 
running too,” Phineas added. “Looks like we’re really 
starting to go places.” 


Phineas had just finished the second beer when he heard the doors 
to the lunch room open again. Looking over, he saw a muscular man 
in a business suit approach. The man’s hair was neatly combed 
back, and a faint scent of aftershave seemed to follow him where he 
went. Phineas rolled his eyes. 


“To what do | owe the pleasure Isaac? There’s no one out here for 
you to schmooze.” 


“Funny,” Isaac replied. “Anderson wants you. He’s about to do his 
big announcement.” 


“Does he need me to talk for him?”