And thus, the Aethers shall be in balance. The Five Aethers are the 
foundations of practical alchemy, and must always be respected. Some call 
them "elements", others "Eidolons", and other more esoteric names. The 
Aethers however, are the pure elemental forces of the universe. Air, Earth, 
Fire, Water, Electricity. Aeronous, Terronous, Igneous, Aequeous, and 
Fulminous. Respect the Aethers, and they will serve well... 


-Excerpt, Practical Alchemy, by R. Diaghilev 


Ruslav Diaghilev woke to the sound of the cosmos rushing in his 
ears. That, and the liquid clock that was gifted to him for his birthday 
last year. He blinked the bleary sleep from his eyes, and sat up into 
the cold autumn morning. The first inklings of light were slipping 
through the windows, as he swung his feet out and over the edge of 
the bed. 


Across the room, faintly glowing liquids burbled happily in their 
decanters. Soft orange and blue light emanated from several tubes, 
rushing around the apparatus with merry abandon. He rose with a 
grunt, shuffling towards the laboratory on the other side of the room 
while reaching out to touch the series of activation studs on the wall 
for the muted amber overhead lighting. 


He smiled, as the orbs slowly winked to life, the deep amber light 
turning the room from shadows to a world of deepest bas-relief. As 
the light spread across his workbench, the familiar sights of 
numerous notebooks, fragments of recipes, and formulae appeared 
before him. His chalkboard, covered in his heavy, angular script 
shone with the faint sheen of recently erased chalk. 


Reaching out with one tired hand, Ruslav turned the activation knob 
for the burner underneath the faintly glowing blue liquid, causing it to 
bubble higher and the overflow to slowly drip into the brown liquid in 
the largest decanter. He agitated the mixture with a glass rod, while 

chanting quietly in a language that few knew, and fewer still dared to 


utter. As he chanted, the mixture turned from a dark brown to a light 
brown with a golden sheen. He smiled, and turned the knob, 
allowing some of the liquid to flow into an earthenware jug. 


He raised the vessel to his lips, and a smile spread over his face as 
the liquid passed through his mouth and down into his stomach. 
Ahh, I've finally done it; counteracted the Aeronous Aether. Finally, it 
tastes like coffee. He felt the fatigue and discomfort of waking so 
early washing away as the philter took its effect. 


Ruslav Diaghilev, Alchemist of the Seventh Circle, looked out of his 
windows across the snow-laden scene from his cabin. He nodded, 
taking another sip of the mixture before replacing the jug on the 
table. 


...Alchemy, like any other science, has laws. Rules. These laws and rules 
may bend from time to time, but they are as indelible as physics. While the 
physical sciences may be more practically applicable, the simple need for 
the containment of Alchemical Anomalies requires special attention to the 
alchemic arts... 


-Excerpt, The Sealing Way, M. R. Tissart 
First historical mention of "Anomalies" 


Hours later, R. Diaghilev, as his nametag so helpfully proclaimed 
him, sat hunched in his car in the line to get into Site-79. The snow 
had started to fall faster now, and Ruslav sighed in frustration. The 
snow always caught in the hem of his robes. The line to get into the 
site was unusually long due to the weather, and his heater wasn't as 
strong as it used to be. 


A few minutes passed, and Ruslav came to the front of the line, and 
presented his credentials to the security personnel at the gate. As 
he pulled up, and looked the man in the eye catching a hint of a 
smirk on his face. The guard took the card, and scanned it before 
handing it back. "Thank you. Please proceed." 


Ruslav suppressed a sigh at the grin on the security guard's face. 
He was well used to the stares, and the questionable deference he 
had from his colleagues. 


He pulled into his parking spot, and got out of his car, cursing under 
his breath, at the snow on the floor of the parking structure. He 
brushed a small spot away and counted his steps before reaching 
88, then reciting a quiet formulae. A junior researcher stared at him 
as he did, nearly breaking his concentration. The researcher may 
not have thought much of Ruslav's robes, but the snow never quite 
reached them after his recitation. He smiled to himself, and said a 
thanks to the Aeronous Aether for its assistance. 


He walked through the halls, the quiet swish of his robes at odds 
with the hard clack of the researchers' shoes, and the quiet clicks of 
high heels. His own shoes were made of rubber properly made in 
accordance with ancient formulae many years ago. They were bright 
purple, and the shoes themselves were poorly stitched, but he was 
an alchemist not a cobbler. They were warm, waterproof, silent, and 
earned him the nicknamed "Grapefoot" from his college 
companions. 


He settled into his office, with a quiet sigh, and pulled his phone out 
of the recesses of his robes, plugging it into his computer to charge. 
He muttered a thank you to the Fulminous Aether, and a curse to 
Apple for short battery life. 


The office was functional, covered in a few work benches, one of 
which contained a simple decanter-reduction system. The only other 
door in the office led to the lab, connected to his colleague's office 
as well. The drab concrete walls fit Ruslav's personality perfectly, 
and he smiled at the calendar beside his desk. There were cats on 
it. 


Ruslav settled in to his workstation to go over morning emails. There 
was always some bureaucratic nonsense to deal with at The 
Foundation. 


...and so it has come to us, the Wise, to protect the world. The Foundation is 
our best chance to seal off the influence of the Entities for all time. As such, 

| propose that we take action once and for all. Create the Great Seal, and for 

all time prevent such incursions into our reality... 


-Excerpt, A Call To Action, R. Diaghilev 


SCP-847: The Mannequin 


Item #: SCP-847 
Object Class: Euclid 


Special Containment Procedures: SCP-847 is to be kept ina 
reinforced modified humanoid containment chamber. For the 
purpose of ongoing behavioral studies, the room is to be fully 
furnished with a bed, dresser, couch, table, chair, full-length mirror, 
sink, shower, and toilet. The floor of the chamber is to be 
constructed with 1-cm exposed beams of copper, which can be 
electrified remotely to a minimum 50 kV potential. A 50-cm squared 
"safe zone" at the rear right corner of the containment chamber is to 
remain free of copper beams in the case of personnel inside 
containment during disabling of SCP-847. No meals are to be 
provided. 


All personnel posted to SCP-847 must be armed with a shock baton 
rated at 30 kV or greater. Only men XY males identifying as such 
are to be assigned to or permitted within a 50-meter radius of 
SCP-847.1 After the results of Experiment 847-G, upon order of the 
Ethics Committee, intersex, transgender, and nonbinary personnel 
are prohibited from working with, handling, or approaching SCP-847 
for their own safety and well-being. When assigning personnel to 
SCP-847, preference is to be given to men who are not sexually 
attracted to women. 


Description: SCP-847 is a human female mannequin, 156 cm tall 
and 27 kg in mass, constructed of human hair and an unknown 
composite fibrous polymer that abrades and shatters similarly to 
porcelain. Exploratory laparoscopy of SCP-847 shows the presence 
of internal structures resembling an incomplete set of bones, organs, 
and major blood vessels, composed of the same polymer. Small 
amounts of a black, volatile resin similar to plastination compounds 
leak from the eyes and damaged regions of the mannequin. 
SCP-847 has always been is normally at some level of disrepair, 


As the twelfth hour of the day arrived, Ruslav's stomach rumbled 
with hunger, and he put down the report on a philter of Molasses, 
which some famous American had used to attain immortality. He left 
a few final scribbles on his notes for now, and stood up, stretching 
his broad shoulders with a yawn. 


He started his way towards the cafeteria with slowly creeping 
fatigue. The philter from this morning had to be wearing off. He 
hoped quietly to himself that he made enough to last a few weeks at 
least. That particular convergence wasn't likely to happen again for 
a very long time. 


As he walked along, he spotted Dr. Collins walking towards the 
cafeteria, and waved slightly. The doctor looked over, and smiled, 
waiting for Ruslav to catch up, before they walked in tandem 
towards the cafeteria. "It's good to see you, Ruslav. Have a good 
weekend?" 


Ruslav nodded, and smiled at Dr. Collins, "Yes. My philter finally 
came into the proper solution this morning. | was very happy to say 
that it worked without any difficulty." Ruslav took a left turn towards 
the cafeteria, the sounds of conversation filling the off-white 
hallways. 


They joined a small crowd on the escalators up to level 3, to the 
cafeteria. It opened out into the expansive, and tastefully decorated 
cafeteria level. They had remodeled recently, the dark glass looking 
out over fields of snow-covered grass. The dark tile of the floor 
complemented the subtle burgundy of the walls. All colors Ruslav 
found pleasing. 


Dr. Collins smiled at Ruslav, as they walked towards the serving 
area. "Congratulations, Ruslav. | had hoped it would happen soon. 
Is this the same super coffee you were discussing before?" Dr. 
Collins got into the line for the hot buffet, and grabbed a tray, loading 
up a couple of plates with his usual starchy fare. He had gained a 
few pounds recently, stress eating due to a recent project. 


Ruslav grabbed his own tray, loading it up with a mix of vegetables, 
a light salad, and a large piece of some pink fish, pretending to be 
salmon. "Yes. | am happy to say it works properly. This morning was 


significantly easier." He grabbed up a small tray of cookies, his one 
indulgence, and headed to the top of the line. 


Dr. Collins flashed his ID to pay for his lunch, and Ruslav did the 
same, the two of them heading for an empty table, nearby. Several 
other researchers waved to Dr. Collins, and the two sat down, 
digging into lunch with abandon. The other tables were rapidly filling 
up, but Ruslav and Dr. Collins had one of the smaller round tables to 
themselves. 


His dark brown robes stood out from the white-coated researchers, 
but they did every day. They made small talk for a few minutes, 
before a young researcher stepped up to their table looking eager 
and bright eyed, "Dr. Collins? | was hoping | could ask you a few 
questions about the new research topics you had suggested last 
week?" 


Dr. Collins looked up, and quickly swallowed the bite he was 
chewing through, "Of course Daniel. This is Ruslav Diaghilev, one of 
the members of the Alchemy Division." Ruslav looked up to meet 
the eyes of the young man displaying the usual mix of confusion and 
surprise. 


"How do you do young man." Ruslav held out one large hand, 
shaking the younger mans hand firmly. 


"Ahh, good, good, it's nice to meet you Dr. Diaghilev." Daniel said a 
little too fast, not particularly covering up his confusion very well. 


"lam not a doctor, but | understand the confusion. Mister, or if you're 
being very formal, Elder is the appropriate title." He tried to hide his 
grimace as the usual look of incredulity passed over the young 
man's features. 


Dr. Collins looked over at Ruslav, and quirked his head, "If | heard 
right, you guys are getting a new hire today. Unless Jamesson was 
talking out his ass again." He scooped up his last bite of pasta, and 
leaned back. 


Ruslav's eyebrows raised, the deep lines on his face creasing. "New 
Hire? | wasn't aware we were getting new apprentices anymore." 


And | hadn't realized anyone could even feel the currents anymore 
He thought to himself. "I will have to consult my colleagues." 


Dr. Collins rose, escorting Daniel away, "Till next time Ruslav, enjoy 
your studies!" 


...And so, our Alchemy Division, shall henceforth be tasked with the sealing, 
and secrecy of Initiative [REDACTED]. All knowledge of Alchemy shall be 
discredited. All maintenance of the seals, circles, and other Alchemical 
devices shall be entrusted to R. Diaghilev, and M. Adebeyo, Directors of the 
Alchemy Division... 


-Excerpt, O5 Council Plan of Action no. [REDACTED] 


The quiet walk back to his office was uneventful. Upon reaching his 
door, he heard a quiet tingling, a soft sound like water upon a starlit 
lake. He closed his eyes, growing lost in the sound, the Aequeous 
Aether speaking to him in the deepest language the universe 
offered. 


It was soon, a convergence. He would be able to access both the 
Aequeous and the Aeronous. It was finally time to begin the next 
steps in his processes. 


He hurried to the lab, where his only colleague Elder Adebayo 
stood, his coal-black skin a stark contrast to the, if he was honest 
with it, tacky milk-white robes he wore all the time. The walls of the 
lab were unlike any other room in the site. From top to bottom, it had 
been inscribed with copper chisels, formulae of containment, order, 
and protection. 


Ruslav and Adebayo had prepared this room over sixteen 
painstaking months, using various convergence events, and stored 
Aether where necessary. This room was the Alchemical equivalent 
of a bomb shelter, and the only place they dared to work any 
significant research. 


The walls were lined with tables, containing several decanter- 
reduction systems, wind-flow apparatus, a few burners, and even a 
fine earth separator. 


Mounted on one wall was a solid wooden holder, which contained 
two heavy Croziers. One of brass, and wood belonging to Adebayo, 
the other of cold iron and lead belonging to Ruslav. Across from the 
crozier stand was a set of three concentric circles set in the floor. 
The first was polished, inscribed copper, the second was cold iron, 
the last was the finest and most delicate gold. The materials for the 
last circle had been transmuted from pure aether to common lead, 
then to gold. 


"You felt it too, Ruslav?" The rich syllables of the Third Language 
flowed from his lips, his mellifluous accent blending perfectly with 
the interplay of light and dark in the phonemes, his hands spread 
over the wind-flow measures and pinwheels on his desk. 


He felt the swirling currents, as he hurried to the equipment along 
the wall. He adjusted several knobs, and the liquids began to 
bubble, already taking on a soft glow. "Of course, | felt it. Where are 
you in the harness of the Aeronous?" Adebayo's specialty lay in the 
Aeronous Aether, and Ruslav would be significantly more 
comfortable in the Aequeous. 


Adebayo's hands spread slightly, as he switched to the Second 
Language, approaching the beginnings of the True Language 
quickly. "| am almost there. Could you bring me the circle of 
Aeronous Binding?" 


Ruslav nodded, and picked up a copper circlet, inscribed with 
various symbols occult organizations had cribbed from ancient 
alchemists in centuries past. 


"We're going to renew the thirteenth seal, this time, yes?" Ruslav 
placed the circlet on Adebayo's head, crowning his shaved scalp. 


"Yes. The creature made a noise a few months ago, and we need to 
make sure it's held. The seal is almost in the fullness of its shape. 
With this, we can—" A sudden crack of Aether sped through the lab, 
disrupting the energies shaped by the words of the second 
language. The Fulminous Aether surged quickly, pushing back 
against the ritual motions and words. 


From the currents of the unseen, a laughing sound could be heard.