During the containment breach of SCP- -1-D a second 
similar entity, designated SCP- -2, emerged from 
SCP-739 and immediately proceeded to escape from the 
perimeter of Site-83. It is unknown if SCP-  -2 is more 
adapted to terran environments than SCP- -1-D, as the 
entity has not been observed since its initial breach. 


Addendum 3: 

Analysis of the auditory pulses utilised by SCP- -1-D to attack 
personnel have been discovered to be heavily distorted humanoid 
speech. Below is a transcript of several phrases stated by SCP-  -1- 
D. 


You let me in! 
There is so much to do. 
We will enforce what your messengers taught us. 


We are ready to complete our work. 


"... weird," Alexis finished. 
"... strange," Myra concluded. 


On the monitors, Conrad watched as the women's brainwaves 
began to decohere, falling back into their distinct thought patterns. 


"You two alright?" He asked. 
"| think so." Alexis said. 
"Yeah, | think," Myra said. "Any idea what happened there?" 


"Uh, looks like a feedback loop,” Conrad said, typing furiously. "We 
didn't account for the possibility of detecting received signals. 
Basically, the interfaces kept retransmitting the same set of thoughts 
between the two of you until they just sort of... merged." 


"What would have happened if you hadn't cut the connection?" 
Alexis asked. 


"Not sure. Maybe nothing. It looks like the feedback loop broke after 
your thoughts cohered." He chuckled humorlessly. "Good thing too, 
or it might have fried your brains. That would have put an end to 
your nascent hivemind real quick." 


They all sat quietly for a moment, wondering what the next step was. 


"So | suppose the question is," Conrad finally said. "Is this a bug, or 
a feature?" 


Avatara 


The best way to conquer one's enemies is to befriend them. 


"We sent twelve operatives into that farmhouse and never heard 
from them again. The robots we sent in shut down before getting 
through the door. We established a perimeter around the house and 
now everyone within a twenty-meter radius looks like they stitched 
tumours to their faces. The damn place is a meatgrinder." 


"Well, the 'meatgrinder' is expanding. We can't blow it up without 
finding out what's inside; we both remember Kodiak. Somebody's 
got to go in and investigate." 


"Who's crazy enough to knowingly kill themselves?" 


"... Get Tau-5." 


The first embraced the darkness blissfully. The second succumbed 
without resistance. The third failed to remain conscious. The fourth 
died clutching her chest and writhing. 


"Now, this is a type of anomaly we haven't really dealt with before, 
so we're field-testing some new equipment. It's based on 
Prometheus Labs technology; essentially, the device generates 
some kind of field that forces cells inside to remain in a GO stage 
regardless of outside influences. Stops cancer and other mutations 
cold, but also prevents healing. We don't really know what... kind of 
field it is... but we're pretty sure that whatever it is, it'll also stop your 
gear from shorting out," the technician explained, handing the four of 
them large, bulky rucksacks. 


The four members of Samsara nodded, peering at the complicated- 
looking machinery buzzing within the packs. 


"Hey be careful with that, okay! No sudden bumps or jerks. It's kind 
of volatile. We couldn't even test it on D-Class without sending 
Ethics into conniptions, so..." the technician floundered. 


"You're testing it on us?" Irantu supplied. 
"Uh... | wouldn't put it like... but uh... yeah?" 
"Okay." 


Nanku looked inside her rucksack again and flipped the switch on 
the device. It detonated with a muffled CRUMP. 


She looked up. The bones on the left side of her face had fused 
together; chunks of eye nestled in the bloody crater that remained of 
her nose. 


"| think something got in my eye..." 


The technician splattered the remains of her face with vomit. It took 
her several seconds to start wiping away the stomach acid and 
remains of tuna salad. "Oh... er, ugh, ew, ew! That's disgusting!" 
she belatedly wheezed. 


"That was good. You sounded normal and disgusted there,” lrantu 
complemented her. 


"Thank you!" she responded, forcing a note of levity into her voice. 


The technician kept heaving even after his breakfast and pre-lunch 
snack had ended up on the ground. 


The first time they were born, they lay curled within pink, fluid-filled 
plastic wombs. They could breathe. They could gargle out words 
through the respirators. They could sense the warmth of the fluid. 
They could perform integration and derivation in their mind. They 
could not feel. 


The scientists observing them cheered briefly and then began 
scribbling notes on their PDAs. 


The fourth time they were born was the first time they were 
defective: resembling horrific infantine harlequins. The first woke up 
and began exploring the tiny confines of her womb, eager to 
experience rebirth. The second woke up silently, suckling the 
artificial teats within the small pink spheres. The third dreamed of 
emptiness, basking in the muffled lub-dub, |ub-dub of his 
environment. The fourth screamed, beating her underdeveloped, 
scaled fists pathetically against the hard plastic shell. 


Far above them, men and women in stark white coats scribbled 
down notes before activating the womb sterilizers. 


lrantu peered inside the den of the farmhouse, shotgun at the ready. 
The hairs on his neck stood up as the anomaly in the house clashed 
with the device strapped to his back. Nanku's limbs were already 
swollen with malignant tissue. She pulled out her knife and started 
sawing away as quietly as she could, practicing her winces when 
she punctured noncancerous flesh. 


His face unriddled with bullets or tumors, Irantu sidled into the den. 
Munru followed, quickly moving to the other side of the room. Onru 
entered third, and finally Nanku, who had swapped her knife for a 
pistol. 


A chant in an unclear language wafted down from upstairs. lrantu 
peered around the door into the hallway and got his first glimpse of a 
corpse blocking the hall. 


The squad moved forward carefully, guns trained on the bubbling 
mass of flesh dressed in Foundation-issue body armor. lrantu poked 
it with the barrel of the shotgun. 


It failed to react. 
"Dead," he called back quietly. 


As they swept the kitchen, living room, dining room, and bathroom, 
the squad took note of the corpses in each room, draped over 
furniture like demented throw pillows. 


"They're all pointing in the same direction," Nanku mumbled, voice 
muffled by the neoplasms stuffing her cheeks. 


"It must have some significance with the voices upstairs. All ground 
rooms clear?" lrantu asked. 


Onru nodded. 
lrantu pulled out his radio and briefly called in. 


"Ground floor is clear. Have found six bodies; all MTF. All covered in 
tumours similar to the bodies discovered outside. Moving to second 
floor." 


The second floor rooms were also devoid of live bodies. 


"Adorable," Munru commented, looking at a pulsating mass ona 
child's rocket-shaped bed. 


"Wrong emotion, | think..." Nanku garbled, shearing off the tumors 
that had sprouted around her face and subsequently stuffing them 
into her mouth. "Hm, these taste like lady fingers." 


"Let me see?" 


"Over here," Irantu hissed from the hallway. Munru and Nanku 
immediately shut up and aimed their weapons at the offending door. 
Five blobs of flesh lay in front of it, all propped in positions 
suggesting that they died trying to reach the knob. 


"The chanting is coming from within. | can only hear one voice. This 
door is the only entry within, so | suggest we flood it." 


"Understood," Munru nodded. The rest of the squad turned and 
plugged their ears as he unclipped a flashbang from his belt, kicked 
open the door, and lobbed it inside with one smooth movement. 


The twelfth time was also the thirteenth. Two copies of each were 

grown and uploaded with the memories and thoughts of the original, 
then placed in ostensibly private rooms to have a discussion. Faced 
with each other, they began the session by discussing the nature of 


their rebirth and what this meant for the nature of consciousness. 
They concluded the session by reassuring each other that it was 
merely an experiment and form of self-gratification. 


These results were noted down with interest by the fourteenth. 


They poured into the bedroom, weapons up and eyes locked on the 
figure chanting on the bed at the far end. Its features lay hidden 
beneath a twisted mass of cancerous flesh bulging from under a 
ratty T-shirt and jeans, like an obese pin-up model. 


PROVIDE HIM YOUR FLESH 


lrantu prodded the mass with the barrel of his shotgun, which did 
nothing except make it chant slightly faster. His radio crackled to life. 


"What's your status?" 


"Found the source of the anomaly," he replied. "Large conical mass 
of cancerous tissue, about one meter tall. Chanting in an unknown 
language. Appears to have been human." 


"Understood. We're talking to some researchers now... okay. You 
are authorized to neutralize the threat. Your guns should do the 
trick. Hurry. The anomaly is expanding at an increased rate." 


"Confirmed," lrantu noted. He motioned for the group to take a few 
steps back and fired a few tentative rounds into the mass, which all 
ricocheted off and into the walls. 


SATE ITS THIRST 


lrantu looked at the mass, scooped up some brain and marrow lying 
around, and coated his glove in it. This time he was able to make a 
dent in the mass. 


GIVE IT YOUR FLESH THAT HE MAY MAKE YOU GODS 
lrantu thought for a moment. "Nanku, hand me your pistol." 


She obediently stepped forward and handed it over. 


lrantu emptied the magazine into her neck. Even before she could 
topple over, he had begun hacking away at her neck sinews with his 
combat knife. Onru and Munru helped him finish decapitating her. 


As the rest of the squad evacuated the room, he took a frag grenade 
from Nanku's belt, stuffed it into her mouth, pulled the pin, and 
slammed her head deep into the cancerous mass in a single smooth 
motion. Then he dove out of the room. 


The gigantic neoplasmic mass exploded, coating the room in 
fragments of muscle, intestine, brain tissue, and bone marrow. 


lrantu stood up and spoke into his radio. "Anomaly neutralized, 
over." 


His radio crackled to life. "The effect has ceased spreading outside. 
Anomaly confirmed neutralized. What's your status, over?" 


"Nanku is dead. Rest of us are unharmed, over." 


"Understood. Exit the structure immediately; we're burning in T 
minus five minutes, over." 


TAKE THE SACRED TOME 


Munru stepped back into the room and made for the remains of the 
anomaly, shoveling away detritus until he found a small, meat- 
stained leather book buried underneath. He stowed it into his 
uniform. 


The end came very suddenly, when everyone found themselves 
facing the barrels of a group of peeved religious fundamentalists. 


The first was neutralized. The second was eliminated. The third was 
executed. The fourth was slaughtered. Of the few that escaped 
being lined against the wall, almost none survived the explosion that 
leveled the facility. 


Several meters underground, four backup vats whirred to life, 
orchestrated by a slightly damaged cloner containing four men and 
women who had sacrificed their lives for immortality. 


They died in that machine; lives, loves, thoughts, feelings, the ability 
to create, and their humanity erased by a damaged hard drive. 


The three of them were poring over the book when Nanku was 
escorted into their cell. The side of her head was slightly dented, 
with a few stitches and a discolored patch indicating where they'd 
grafted bone from an earlier, aborted incarnation. 


"Hello!" she greeted them. 

"Quiet," Munru scolded her. 

"What are... you reading?" 

"A book we found in your body." 

"What's it... about?” 

"How to 'summon' a god..." 

Munru tried and failed to make air quotations. 
"It's a good book." 

"They let you... keep it?" 

"Nobody said anything about it." 

"Can | read it... with you?” 

"We're almost done. We've been reading for two weeks." 


"Can | read what's left?" 


The bodies were grown but there was nothing to inhabit them. The 
intelligence had died in the machine's broken drives. All that 
remained were a single template, two genders, and four names. 


Machines are nothing if not good at arithmetic. Minds are nothing if 
not good at creation. Bodies are nothing. One template plus one 
name plus one gender plus one body equals one being. One being 


equals one-fourth of the available bodies. Four beings equals one 
completed task. 


Simple arithmetic. 


A machine is nothing if not good at completing tasks. 


"...It's a good book." 
"Maybe we could... visit the place in the book?" 
"We could learn more about acting like people." 


"Can we?" 


A damaged wall crumbled as a group of black-clad men and women 
blasted through into the cloning chamber. Behind them was the last 
surviving handler. 


"What are we looking at here, Doctor?" asked one of the black-clad 
women, peering at the naked, almost featureless fleshy shells 
within. 

"A former project that almost got me killed a decade ago. | think it'll 
prove a useful asset." 


« Avatara | GRANT REQUEST FOR INVESTIGATING... » 


GRANT REQUEST FOR INVESTIGATING THE 
APPLICATION OF CERTAIN RESEARCH ASSETS IN 
OVERCOMING INHERENT LIMITATIONS OF THE 
HUMAN BODY 


GRANT REQUEST FOR INVESTIGATING THE APPLICATION OF 
CERTAIN RESEARCH ASSETS IN OVERCOMING INHERENT 
LIMITATIONS OF THE HUMAN BODY 


PROBLEM 


All human endeavors are naturally constrained by the inherent limits 
of the human body. The human body is frail, difficult to repair, and 
requires long periods of recovery to heal from illness. In addition, it 
is extremely resistant to integration with technology that could 
mitigate these issues. 


One of the largest problems with the human body is its vulnerability. 
Every day the average person will perform dozens of tasks which 
could cripple or fatally injure them.[1] In many cases, this danger 
can be mitigated or avoided, but in many more cases, it cannot. 
Developing medical techniques that improve the human body's own 
cellular regeneration mechanisms would address these injuries, and 
could lead to improvements in quality of life and increases in the 
length of the human lifespan. 


The human body is also extremely resistant to technological 
interfaces which could drastically improve quality of life. Designs or 
concepts exist for a vast array of prosthetics and medical implants 
which cannot be implemented because of the problem of rejection 
syndrome.[2] If this difficulty could be removed it would greatly 
expand the possibilities of human augmentation, allow for more 
direct interfacing of medical devices and prosthetics with body 
tissues, and potentially allow for functional Brain-Computer 
Interfaces. 


Why do you ignore me? 
Will you look if we all scream together? 
We will earn your acknowledgement. 
Footnotes 
1. Typically features such as facial scarring, prominent acne, 


disfigured or absent limbs, excessive weight and/or insufficient or 


over-sufficient height. 
2. The site SCP-739 was present at during Experiment 739-23. 


« SCP-738 | SCP-739 | SCP-740 » 


Another constraint imposed by the human body is its lack of 
thaumaturgic ability. Few humans are capable of performing 
thaumaturgy, and those that can are limited in power and ability. If 
thaumaturgic ability could be artificially induced or amplified in 
human beings, thaumaturgy could become a viable solution to many 
difficult or otherwise impossible problems, including instantaneous 
long-distance transport, direct observation of historical events, and 
communication in remote locations. 


SOLUTION