"Surely a historian knows that no great man ever wants to die," 
Duke said. "Every ache, every pain, every pang of hunger, every 
moment of regret for the things | have lost - these things are gjfts, 
Doctor. | would rather feel the greatest torment you could possibly 
imagine... than know that | will never feel anything again, or even 
exist to know that | feel it not.” 


"| think I've heard everything | need to hear for now," Andrews said. 
"The nurse will be by in an hour to change your IV." 


"Don't bother," Duke said as Andrews turned off the dimmer and 
made his way to the door. "Sticking it into my veins like this does 
nothing for me. Could you ask if they could arrange to have it drip 
into my mouth? The blood of a woman would be ideal. Warm. 
Virginal, preferably. Have your masters any available?" 


Dr. Andrews opened the door. "| hope not," he said. 


In The End: Fiat Lux 


The alarms were still going off. Red lights flashing to indicate a Keter 
had breached containment. The most important information played 
over the speakers, subsequent information broadcast to individuals 
via their mobile phones. The men who hadn't already been affected 
were on lock down, behind closed doors. The women were all 
filtered into the cafeteria, the only place on site that could hold them 
all. 


The lights flickered as Senior Reasearcher Zyn accepted assistance 
onto a table, and raised her voice. "Excuse me... Pardon me... 
LADIES!" She finally had to project to make herself heard. 
"Attention, now!" 


The women quieted down, turning their attention to her. The priority 
protocols put SR Zyn in charge for the duration of the emergency, 
and they were all professionals. Well. Mostly. 


"To most of you this will mean nothing, but SCP-029 has breached 
containment!" Some of the women gasped, but most just looked 
confused. "She's a mind controller, but only affects men, hence the 
segregation. Reports show she already has over two dozen security 
and researchers under her spell. We're also seeing an unaccounted 
for increase in her power levels. She's fast, strong, hard to hurt, and 
has a small but growing army of followers willing to die for her. Our 
only leverage is her powers are greatly lessened in full direct light 
so-" 


At that point the lights went out. 


They didn't panic. They were well trained in handling these 
situations. The women waited for the back up generators to kick on, 
and, when that failed to happen, pulled out various lighters, 
flashlights, and cell phones with flashlight applications, which they 
directed towards Zyn, but not at a level to be shining in anyone's 
eyes and ruining their vision. Zyn for her part, pulled up her revised 


containment procedures, long form, and scrolled to the relevant bit 
for ‘lights going out." 


"All right, folks. At this point we're going to fall back, and let our 
security girls jump on things. Anyone who has been cleared for a 
model O trang rifle, or model X taser pistol, please pick them up 
from Jill there at the rear door. Our goal here is to incapacitate any 
of our co-workers who-" 


"Excuse me." A voice called from the back. The held lights shifted 
towards the woman in the back, the one dressed in a stained, 
comfortable labcoat. "Can | ask something real quick?" 


"I'm sorry, ah, Dr. Elliot, right? We really don't have the time for any 
explanation, we are on a time clock-" 


"| just wanted to know, are we under any obligation here to return 
the skip alive?" She asked casually, her cell phone held down at her 
side. 


SR Zyn blinked at the question, and quickly scanned her document. 
"Ah, no, actually. In a breach like this, under these circumstances, 
the O5s have condoned decommissioning. Of course, that could be 
really difficult right now, it might actually be easier to just evacuate 
the site, and then blow her up. We'd lose people, but | can't see how 
else to stop her. A running firefight in a site without power, and who 
knows what she might let out? No thank you." 


Dr. Elliot held up a hand to forestall her continuing. "No, don't worry. 
| got this." She raised her phone to her ear. "Serra? Take the shot." 


Through the speaker of the phone, three shots rung out. Then a 
terse voice spoke. "Target nullified.” 


Zyn stared across the room, her mouth open, the dozens of pages 
of containment procedures ignored in her hands. "What did you just 
do?" 


"Two tracer rounds and an explosive round through the head at 500 
yards... and through a couple of walls." The lights flickered again, as 
power returned. 


"Problem solved." 


In The End: We Dare Not Go A Hunting 


Site 19 


"It's not supposed to be this way." 


The girl crossed her arms, staring at the figure in the bed. She was 
talking, but not to any of the doctors who moved back and forth from 
their machinery to the figure beneath the sheets. They just ignored 
her, to their loss. Not because they were rude men who would have 
ignored a little girl's opinion, which they were, but because, to them, 
she didn't exist. She preferred it that way. Nor was she talking to 
herself, as it might seem. And the creature strapped to the bed had 
never responded to anyone. She turned her head, looking at the 
large teddy bear clutched by the recumbent figure. "Why isn't she 
awake?" 


Most people would think she was a little crazy, talking to a stuffed 
animal. Most people would have been shocked when the toy talked 
back. She clearly wasn't most people. The little fuzzy head turned to 
stare her down, those glass eyes staring blankly. "She's never been 
awake. Why, is she important?" It questioned her. 


"Well, duh." The girl tossed her hair back over her shoulder, glaring 
at the little beast. "Why else do you think | put you with her?" 


"| just thought you were pissed at me." It sooke, because why not, 
with a thick Russian accent. It won't be typed that way, mostly 
because that gets annoying to read. "This is the most boring job, 
EVER." 


"Please. If | was pissed at you, | would do something much worse." 


"Really? You mean, you don't have a problem with how | was 
helping that Ja-" The Bear stops, as her gaze focuses back on it. 
Without needing to breathe, he still gulps at the look in her eyes. "I 


uh, | mean... " 


"It's over." She waves it off, although her focused gaze shows she 
did not want to be reminded. "You work for me now. Has there been 
any change?" 


The bear pries itself away from the form beside it, carefully setting 
the arm back where it was. It stretches, and twists, before looking at 
its mistress again. "None, ma'am. Well, none in her. The docs seem 
awful worried about something. They're trying to pack up." The bear 
absently waves a paw in front of a doctor as he bends to take a 
blood sample, but is ignored just as routinely as the girl. 


She drifts closer to the shape on the bed. One hand reaches out to 
touch the too long, too thin limb. "While of course they're worried. 
The end is coming, and they want to make sure the bed is made 
before the House burns down... She looks so familiar..." The girl 
frowns down at the grey skinned face, trying to place it. 


"Well, she is related to-" 


"No, not that. There's something, in my mind somewhere-" Her eyes 
light up. While in most people, this would just mean they seemed to 
light up, her particular flair for the dramatic means an actual golden 

glow springs to her pupils... then quickly dims, because, ow, bright. 

"Of course. Back there. Behind... Yes. Yes, that could work." 


"Hey now!" The Bear held up both paws, a worried look on its sewn 
on expression. "You're not going to go and do something 
dangerous, are you? Cause, | kinda like being alive." 


She didn't even bother to acknowledge that. Instead, she took a 
jump to the left, a step to the right, and twisted reality 180 degrees to 
walk Behind The Scenes. 


Behind the Scenes 


She stood there, in the nexus of worlds and time, watching reality 
flow through around her. In her head, it was like she was standing 


on a catwalk, high above a stage, with streams of flashing lights and 
pictures pouring past her, as the catwalk slowly shifted up, down, left 
and right, showing her places and times that had been, were to be 
and never even existed. The reality of the place she called 'Behind 
the Scenes' was exactly as she envisioned it, except without the 
stage, the catwalk, the streams, or any of the necessary sense base 
cues humans seemed to depend on. 


"It's here." She muttered to herself, strolling down the shaky metal 
frame at a rather quick pace. She paused to watch a battalion of 
butterflies wheel across a deserted sky, then took a moment to 
examine a scene where two rival armies of germs fought for control 
of a body. The teensy tiny rapiers were an adorable touch, but she 
found herself reaching out and eradicating the time stream they 
came from when they wheeled out the microbial cannons. 


"It has to be here!" An effort of will refined her searches, less 
random, more directed- Which of course held to its own problems. 
The scenes and times ran together, bland men and women in white 
coats, performing bland experiments on objects that cause the 
streams of Realities to ripple around them as they tried to spin off 
alternate timelines where they could escape. 


She sought further back, as the budgets shrank, and the rooms got 
smaller, looking for the one thing that would work, the one item that 
would... Yes. There. Of course. Right at the beginning. How could 
she have been so blind? They had been removed, almost 
completely, but stories always lived on, and if you can trace the 
stories to just the right moment- 


NOWHERE 


When? 
Now. 
Them? 


Yes. 


Original Classification: Originally Euclid, then moved to Keter. 
Under today's standard, it would probably be listed as Safe. 


Current Location: While originally stolen by the Chaos Insurgency 
during the Foundation Civil War, this object was known to be in the 
possession of Marshall, Carter, and Dark as early as the 1940's. 
Offers to purchase the item have been "politely but firmly declined" 
as recently as the 1980's. Recovery is a Class-3 Priority. 


SCP-884-6: The Comb 


SCP-884-6 was an ivory comb with a carved design (again, 
undescribed) in the body above the teeth. SCP-884-6 was one of 
the pieces of SCP-884 which was retained by the Foundation after 
the Civil War, and it was considered to be the premier piece of the 
collection. 


For approximately three hours after use of the comb, a time dilation 
effect occurred around the object, causing time to slow down the 
closer one came to SCP-884-6. After the duration ended, time would 
immediately resume at normal speed. SCP-884-6 was invaluable in 
the re-containment of over a dozen SCPs following breaches that 
would otherwise be considered disastrous. 


Research into the nature of the effect was ongoing until the 
destruction of SCP-884-6 in 1958. For unknown reasons, 
SCP-884-6 was removed from containment and activated several 
times by an unknown party over the course of several hours. Seven 
corpses were discovered in quick succession, leading Foundation 
Officials to conclude that someone was "projecting SCP-884-6's 
effect at a location." The target was discovered and neutralized via 
gunfire over the course of several hours, due to the dilation effect. 
The target was never identified, and SCP-884-6 was rendered 
neutralized in the crossfire. 


Original Classification: Thaumiel 


Current Location: Remains are available for study at Site-18's 
deep storage facility, as well as the remains of the corpse. Please 
note that only long distance observation may be used, as the dilation 


Do they know what they work for? 

Does it matter? They feed It. They must be removed. 

We could talk to them. Show them- 

No. We will destroy them, root and branch. It is the only way. 
The Queen would not approve. 


The Queen is going beyond, her body is dying, because of their 
intrusions. We will kill them al- 


"Okay, | was going to wait for a minute, jump in somewhere useful, 
but it's really complicated to tell which of you are talking, or even 
how many of you there are, so I'll just talk here, okay?" The girl was 
the only solid thing in NOWHERE. The other, beings? Creatures? 
Intelligences, yes, that will work, they swarmed amongst each other, 
beings of pure thought and idea. In the mortal realm they took forms, 
wield corporeal ideas as weapons of pure destructive force, but here 
they avoided it completey. 


Intruders! 
Two of them! 
Seeking to force form on the formless! Remove them! 


The girl looked around, unable to see a second intruder. She held 
up her hands in supplication- 


Stop the former! Make it end! This is our place! 


"Look! | have help for you! Your queen is dying, and you will soon as 
well!" She stood very still, hoping that a lack of action would help 
keep them from getting even more upset. 


We do not need your help. We will destroy the feeders of the anti 
idea, and they shall be nothing but a memory. 


We will win, as we always have. 


"You won't!" She shouted, to make herself heard. Even to someone 
to whom reality was a mere passing thought, the lack of definition 
these things had was more than a little bit disturbing. And | don't like 
the way they're eying me, either. "They will make an alliance with 
the Enemy! You will be destroyed! Never have been! But | can help!" 


How? 


"They will erase you. But, if one of you were outside of time, with 
me, you could follow her back, when | plugged her back in." 


And why would you do this? 


"| believe in happy endings." 


Behind the Scenes 


The girl hurried back into the safety of the space between spaces, 
shuddering slightly. She had felt pieces of herself sloughing off into 
that featureless void every moment she spent there. It had felt like 
any movement any act that would need description was a violation 
of that sacred space. | didn't like it much either, but that's because it 
was far too meta for me. 


Trailing with her was the bare wisp of an idea. The mind of the 
Queen, a brittle husk of what she had once been, her body ravaged 
by the forces of reality until she could no longer bear it. Her mind 
was still as sharp as ever. The girl had had to make certain 
promises, say certain oaths, bind herself in very specific ways 
before the Queen would consent... But all that had been done in 
retcon, after she had exited the place, so as to do no further harm to 
the Queens people. 


She turned and watched the timeline behind her. One moment, the 
people riding out, ready to destroy, wiping out all in their path, and 
then, in a small dark room, a deal is made, and the people are gone, 
never having been in the first place. A tear falls down her cheek, but 
whether it is hers or the Queens is unknown. "Don't worry. Your new 
body will show them." 


Somewhere on Route 66 


"Ya know what we're hauling?" Special Agent Bradley Jones asked 
of his compatriot, Doctor Neil Hoern, again. 


"It's a safe class. That's all you're cleared to know." The doctor 
replied, for what felt like the fiftieth time, but was really only the 
12th.. He glanced over his shoulder at the trailer they were hauling, 
as if he could see through the metal to their precious cargo. "You 
really have to stop asking. If | tell you, | get in trou-" At which point 
the equipment in front of him that monitored the status of the 
creature flipped the fuck out, beeping, booping, and in general 
indicating that something was going wrong. "Fuck! Fuck! Pull over, 
pull the fuck-"