To: O5-7
From: α-1 "Tanner"
Subject: Cam Footage

Sir,
Attached you will find the requested camera footage of Armed Site-21 for the week of 8/9/2021. What is done with this information is entirely up to you.
Attached Files: camfootage.zip
Please contact me if you require anything else. I hope you enjoy your vacation.
V/R
Agent Tanner

Agent in Charge, MTF Alpha-1 "Red Right Hand", C Team
Secure, Contain, Protect

This correspondence is subject to being monitored for suspicious content as per the Foundation Internal Security Decree of 7/08/2001. Stay Vigilant.

.

<< ACCESS RECORDING 8/9/2021 >>

>> ACCESS GRANTED <<

ARCHIVE DATE: MONDAY, AUGUST 9, 2021

LOCATION: ARMED SITE-21 BREAK ROOM

[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]

[A Level 2 humanoid researcher, Researcher Alex Wong, is making coffee in the break room. She appears visibly stressed and fatigued. She sighs loudly as she inputs her personal settings into the coffee machine, sets her thermos under the spout, and waits for the machine to start.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Fucking Mondays.
[The door opens, and a Level 2 humanoid researcher, Researcher Brian Forrest, enters the room. He is sipping from a mug which displays a bootleg Bart Simpson in a desert camo uniform strangling former Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein. He seems lively and upbeat.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: Hey, Alex!
[Wong takes her coffee, along with one pack of cream, and two packs of sugar.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Morning, Brian.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Man, we've got the mother of all research projects today. Didja hear? An anomalous humanoid cadaver got delivered to Xenomaterials by Dr. Ward's team. It's on ice now, but it's freaky. Real freaky.
[Wong rips both packs of sugar open, dumping the contents into the coffee. She does the same with the pack of cream.]
RESEARCHER WONG: And they want us to dissect it and run some tests on it?
RESEARCHER FORREST: Yup.
[Wong rolls her eyes, scoffing. She tosses her trash in a waste bin and grabs a stirrer.]
RESEARCHER WONG: You do know how we got that thing, right?
RESEARCHER FORREST: How?
[Wong begins stirring the contents of her thermos.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Dr. Ward iced it himself. Stone cold killer style. I hear he's been getting smoked for it.
RESEARCHER FORREST: I wonder why.
RESEARCHER WONG: Word around the grapevine is that he broke OPSEC to terminate it himself. Ward's containment teams had a shitshow trying to explain what happened to the civvies.
[Wong tosses the stirrer into the trash.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Luckily, only his son saw it, but all the high-ups are pissed about it. Don't know much else.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Woah.
[Wong takes a sip from her thermos.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Yup. I don't blame him, if that was my kid at the mercy of a monster like that, I'd do anything to keep him safe.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Yeah, that's for sure. They, uh, also let L-4's have kids…?
RESEARCHER WONG: They'll let L-4's do anything, man. Except becoming an O5.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Right.
[A pause.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: So, uh… who's gonna be overseeing our projects now, since Doc Ward's in limbo?
RESEARCHER WONG: Dunno. Shift lead still wants a full report on it done by COB today.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Damn. Right.
[Approximately sixty seconds of silence pass as Wong takes periodic sips from her thermos.]
RESEARCHER WONG: …Is that all you came in here for, Brian?—
RESEARCHER FORREST: Oh, uh, no, I was, uh, gonna grab a, uh—
RESEARCHER WONG: —'cause I really should start on that report early before we start doing the—
RESEARCHER FORREST: —donut… uh… y-yeah…
RESEARCHER WONG: Yeah.
[Silence. Forrest awkwardly steps past Wong, grabbing a pastry from a donut box behind her. Forrest steps to the door, then pauses.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: Anyways, uh, Alex…
RESEARCHER WONG: Hm?
RESEARCHER FORREST: So, uh, I was wondering, uh…
[Wong stares at Forrest.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: Maybe, uh, after we do all that stuff, and, uh, after we— if the, uh, week clears up, do you think, maybe, uh…
[Researcher Wong opens up her mouth to speak, but is stopped when the loud intercom chime plays.]
INTERCOM: RESEARCHER ALEX WONG: PLEASE REPORT TO XENOMATERIALS ACCESSIONING ON SUBLEVEL TWO.
RESEARCHER WONG: Thaaaats me. I'll see you around, Brian.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Yeah. See you in an hour.
[The door opens, and Researcher Wong exits, thermos in hand. Once it closes, Researcher Forrest lets out a loud sigh.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: Damn it…

[END VIDEO LOG]

<< ACCESS RECORDING 8/10/2021 >>

>> ACCESS GRANTED <<

ARCHIVE DATE: TUESDAY, AUGUST 10, 2021

LOCATION: ARMED SITE-21 CAFETERIA

[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]

[The cafeteria doors slowly open automatically, allowing a man in business casual wear to enter: Dr. Marcus L. Crassus. Dr. Crassus adjusts his golden aviator sunglasses as he holds the door open for someone behind him. His Level-4 keycard, on a retractable lanyard, returns back to the carabiner on his waist.]
DR. CRASSUS: Smell that, Ward? Bacon.
[Another man in a labcoat enters: fellow Level-4 researcher, Dr. Jonathan Ward. Ward looks visibly upset and sulks in beside Dr. Crassus, clutching an aluminum storage clipboard close to his chest.]
DR. WARD: Last meals typically happen before executions, Marc.
DR. CRASSUS: Oh, cheer up, mon. You're not dead yet. Come on, can't work on an empty stomach.
[Crassus pats Ward on the shoulder as if to reassure him, much to Ward's chagrin. The two step over to the buffet, grab plastic trays, and begin serving themselves.]
DR. WARD: I thought you hated grits.
DR. CRASSUS: You kidding me? I love grits. When they're done well, that is.
DR. WARD: Mmm.
[The two make their way over to get some drinks. Ward grabs a coffee mug and begins inputing his personal settings into the coffee machine, while Dr. Crassus fills a plastic cup full of water. Nearby, a custodian is seen putting a plastic lid on his drink. He looks over and sees the two doctors, and assumes a wide smile.]
CUSTODIAN: Oh! Heyyy, it's bird-man and Doc Ward! Loved the diversity seminar speech, man, they played it here on the television in the rec room! It was great, man.
DR. WARD: I appreciate it. Have a good day.
CUSTODIAN: You as well, sirs! Thank you!
[The custodian smiles and leaves, drink in hand. Ward and Crassus move over to an empty table and sit down. Ward takes a napkin and wipes something off the table before he begins eating. Crassus scratches his arm momentarily, plucking a small green and red feather out out of seemingly nowhere and setting it aside, which Ward looks at uncomfortably.]
DR. CRASSUS: Oh, heh. Sorry. You and your OCD.
[Crassus pockets the feather. Ward sighs, poking at his scrambled eggs with a plastic fork.]
DR. WARD: You know, Marc, you didn't have to—
DR. CRASSUS: Yea mon, didn't have to invite you to breakfast at the DFAC, but I did, so now we're here. We don't get these kinds of opportunities very often, John. Foundation don't like interpersonal relationships.
DR. WARD: …I meant that you didn't have to defend me during that meeting. Sorry—kangaroo court is the better term to use.
[Dr. Crassus crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. At this angle in the camera, more green and yellow feathers can be seen on his body.]
DR. CRASSUS: You're walkin' away with only a disciplinary warning on your record. One. That's it. Listen, knowing someone like you, someone like me—
[Dr. Crassus points to Ward's arm, then to himself.]
DR. CRASSUS: …shouldn't you be glad you got off lucky? I mean… shit! They hired me for God's sake. We don't get these kinds of opportunities very often in life, John. Yes, I didn't have to defend you; doing that probably ruined my chances of making Site Admin or even Site Director…
[Dr. Crassus begins eating a piece of cubed fruit.]
DR. CRASSUS: …but should I have defended you? Absolutely. We stick out for each other.
[Dr. Ward sighs.]
DR. WARD: I understand why you're saying this, I made a whole speech about it for the diversity seminar. I just don't feel like you understand why I broke protocol. It could've costed you a lot more than just your reputation to defend me.
[Dr. Crassus scoffs, then begins mimicking Ward's voice perfectly.]
DR. CRASSUS: [Mimicking Ward's voice] "Could've costed you a lot more than just your reputation to defend me." [Normal voice] I already knew what I was getting into among the higher-ups when I went in defending you during the tribunal. Enlighten me.
[Dr. Ward stops eating, looking straight at Dr. Crassus.]
DR. WARD: Have you got any kids, Marc?
[Dr. Crassus shakes his head.]
DR. CRASSUS: No. Look at me, man.
[Dr. Crassus holds up his hands for emphasis. At this angle in the camera, his hands appear as a cross between parrot wings and human fingers. The forearms are similarly feathered.]
DR. WARD: So you don't understand what I mean.
DR. CRASSUS: What could I possibly not understand, John?
[Dr. Ward sighs.]
DR. WARD: Do you remember that cheesy oath they had all researchers recite before they were officially considered hired?
DR. CRASSUS: Something about us "dying in the dark so that they may live in the light?" Yeah.
DR. WARD: Over time, I've realized it's stuck with me. For a while, when I was younger, I was just like everyone else. Running tests and experiments, going out in the field like you, documenting countless horrors and phantasmagoria alike, and studying folks who don't quite fit the norm, so we could find better ways to hide them. But hey, that was all part of the job description and requirements, right?
[Ward places his fork on his plate.]
DR. WARD: Then, life came. I got older. Got married—you were at my damn wedding, for God's sake. Had a kid. Suffered loss. I realized that cheesy little oath wasn't just about the Veil. It was about Protection. The "P" in the SCP Foundation.
[Dr. Crassus nods slowly.]
DR. WARD: When I saw that thing strangling my son, I was very well prepared to take it down with me. It's one thing to die in the field, but it's another thing when the anomalous comes after you, and I took it personally. I didn't want to have to bury yet another person I loved, that died to something I study. Not me.
[Dr. Ward sighs loudly. He opens the clipboard and scatters out some documents with several teenagers' photographs attached.]
DR. WARD: And now they want me to study my kid? His friends? They want to put the blame on me for something he did? For terminating an anomaly that was threatening my son?
[Dr. Ward scoffs in disbelief.]
DR. WARD: Johnny's a good kid, but this is unacceptable, Marcus, and I stand by what I did.
[Dr. Crassus looks over the files for a moment.]
DR. CRASSUS: Christ. I didn't even know.
DR. WARD: That's why I was so hesitant on getting breakfast.
[Dr. Ward collects his files. Silence ensues for about thirty seconds.]
DR. CRASSUS: Well… shit. [Chuckles] Aren't you glad you said yes now? I mean, listen, John. I care about you, perhaps in more ways than one. It may seem like Admin hates you right now, but you've still got allies in this. You've got a whole-ass research team on your side, and you've got me. No matter what happens, I've got your back.
[Dr. Ward smiles.]
DR. WARD: Thanks, Marc.
[Dr. Crassus takes a forkful of grits and eats it, but almost immediately spits it out into a napkin.]
DR. CRASSUS: Fuck. That's nasty. Maybe you're right, John. I do hate grits.
[Dr. Ward chuckles.]

[END VIDEO LOG]

<< ACCESS RECORDING 8/11/2021 >>

>> ACCESS GRANTED <<

ARCHIVE DATE: WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 11, 2021

LOCATION: ARMED SITE-21 TRAINING FACILITY

[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]

[A Level 3 Mobile Task Force operative, Agent Jericka "Lynn" Brown, is standing behind a computer screen at a station outside of a mock house in a large, open space. On the screen, a masked MTF trainee is clearing out the kill house. The trainee methodically scans his corners and every room in which he enters, and quickly snaps his training rifle up to engage pop-up metal silhouette targets as they appear in each room.]
AGENT LYNN: [Muttering] He's taking too long…
[The trainee clears out the room he is in, then rushes into the final room. In the final room, he is stopped by a final pop-up target of a monster, but this one has a spiraling fractal pattern painted on it. He pauses and flinches, before adjusting his stance, and fires three rounds into the target. As it falls, he steps over to the window and attaches a rappelling device to the side of the window, before climbing out the window and descending vertically down the side of the house.]
AGENT LYNN: Come on! Sense of urgency with everything you do! Let's go!
[The rappel device retracts back to the device on the trainee's waist as he sprints to the finish line. After crossing it, he jogs to a stop, lowering his rifle and approaching Lynn.]
TRAINEE: How'd I do?
[Lynn inspects the computer.]
AGENT LYNN: You passed, but you could always be better. Let me show you something real quick.
[Lynn gestures for the trainee to follow her over to a smaller firing range adjacent to the killhouse. She stops by one of the stalls.]
AGENT LYNN: Your stance, breath control, trigger squeeze? All that is perfect. Room clearing? Spot on. But the one thing which you struggle on…
[Lynn inputs a setting into the range computer beside her and faces the range. About three yards downrange, another monster target with a fractal painted on it pops up. In one swift motion, Lynn draws her sidearm from her hip and fires three shots downrange at the target. The trainee instinctively flinches slightly at this. As the target falls, she holsters her sidearm and turns back to the trainee.]
AGENT LYNN: …is hesitation. I didn't even need to turn around to know that you were going to flinch. You already know that the average gunfight occurs at a distance of around three yards, with three rounds fired over three seconds. But for monsters, it's much closer, and much quicker. You would've died in that last room if you were any slower. Tracking?
TRAINEE: I guess.
AGENT LYNN: You guess? Agent, if you hesitate, that could cost you, your team, and countless civilians their lives. Don't "guess," just do it.
[Lynn sighs.]
TRAINEE: Yes, ma'am. Sorry, it was just unex—
[Lynn holds her hand up. The agent stops.]
AGENT LYNN: Relax. You know, we don't put up those minor memetic hazards on our targets at random to fuck with you guys. Well, maybe a little bit—but that's not the point. They're supposed to condition you to operate under stress, and to make you more confident. Learning to operate under stress, by conducting challenging and realistic training under stress, is what makes this become second nature.
TRAINEE: Understood. What can I do to fix my deficiencies?
AGENT LYNN: Well, when I was a rookie, I was kinda like you. I was hesitant, quiet, a little scared, but I did what I was told. But when my commander got cornered by superhuman cultists, I didn't have time to hesitate, so I had to drop the injured POW I was dragging and go save him. I'm telling you this because that was my "wake-up-call." Back then, we didn't have fancy fractal targets or high-tech training guns, so I had to learn to adapt with my training.
[The sound of doors unlocking is heard behind them. Lynn turns around to see the doors to the training facility open, as a bearded, middle-aged man in monochrome fatigues and a cowboy hat approaches. He is instantly recognizable as Mobile Task Force Commander Sam "Colt" Davidson.]
AGENT LYNN: Hopefully, your wake-up-call is here, and not the field. You're a good agent, with lots of potential, but you have room for improvement. I've gotta handle something, so you're dismissed.
TRAINEE: Understood. Thank you, ma'am.
[The trainee turns around, standing at attention for Colt for a moment.]
TRAINEE: Sir—
SR. AGENT COLT: Carry on.
[The trainee leaves. Colt approaches Lynn, hands in pocket.]
SR. AGENT COLT: They've got you training the greenhorns now, Rookie?
[Lynn smiles.]
AGENT LYNN: You'll still call me that, after all these years? How long has it been since Golden Orb, Colt, twenty years?
SR. AGENT COLT: Twenty-four. And, as you can see, I am still in my prime.
[Both agents chuckle.]
AGENT LYNN: Where's everyone else at now, Colt? I hear Spade's finally retired, guess he got tired of spending most of his life fighting. He told me the amount of NDAs he had to sign from us and the GOC combined was insane.
SR. AGENT COLT: Eyeup, Brodie's back in Cape Town or wherever. He's doing alright, last I checked.
AGENT LYNN: And Buck?
SR. AGENT COLT: That's… Director Pierce now. He still answers to Buck, though. You wouldn't believe it, madman got promoted to security director of some site in Japan. I hear he's doing well over there.
AGENT LYNN: Nice. Good for him. And what have they got you doing now, Colt?
[Colt reaches into his side for a badge, which he presents to Lynn.]
AGENT LYNN: Ohhh. Should I—
SR. AGENT COLT: Nahh. The title means I essentially do your job, but large-scale. Recruitment, creating and disbanding task forces, commanding large groups of agents in the field and the like. There's only one Task Force I have no jurisdiction over, and we both know what it is.
AGENT LYNN: Yeah.
[Silence.]
SR. AGENT COLT: You know, I oughta get the team back together again someday.
AGENT LYNN: [Scoffing] What, for another op? They'd laugh at the idea, of a bunch of old-heads going in the field again.
SR. AGENT COLT: No, not for an op, stupid. I mean like, a get-together. A reunion. Going out somewhere and having a blast, being normal. Command encourages us L-4s to do it either way. We've been all over the world, Jericka—it was in the name "Instant Action", of course, but I never really got a chance to just stop and see it. You know?
[Another pause.]
AGENT LYNN: You thinking what I'm thinking, Sam?
SR. AGENT COLT: I have an inkling, and I don't like it.
AGENT LYNN: It's in the containment procedures, Colt. "Delta-6 are the only Foundation personnel authorized to use SCP-5778 as a means of deployment." Why don't we "tactically" check up on our partners, see how they're doing?
SR. AGENT COLT: …As much as I hate to say it, they technically can't get us for that, but Doc Crass might have a fit if I step anywhere near the tunnel again. I'll touch base with you tomorrow once I get an official ruling.
AGENT LYNN: Sounds good.
[Colt turns to leave, stopping at the door.]
SR. AGENT COLT: It's good to see you again, Rookie. Keep up the good work. You've come a long way.
AGENT LYNN: I'll see you around, Colt.
[Colt leaves the room.]

[END VIDEO LOG]

<< ACCESS RECORDING 8/12/2021 >>

>> ACCESS GRANTED <<

ARCHIVE DATE: THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 2021

LOCATION: ARMED SITE-21 ONSITE DORMS

[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]

[The camera displays Level 2 humanoid researcher, Junior Researcher Cole Willard, at his desk in the dorms. He appears to be taking an online test on a laptop.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: [Muttering] Ohhhh, I get it now. So, a cognitohazard is triggered if it's sensed… an infohazard is triggered if you know about it… and a memetic agent is just infectious information…
[He selects an answer on the laptop]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: …so that must make a memetic agent an infohazard!
[The screen displays "INCORRECT." along with a lengthy explanation at the bottom.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Aw, what?! They're the same thing!
[An extremely loud alarm suddenly goes off in the dorms, and similar shrill alarms begin blaring outside the room. Red emergency lights begin to flash everywhere as Junior Researcher Willard gets up from his desk.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh shit—oh fuck!
INTERCOM: SITE-21 IS CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING MULTIPLE KETER-LEVEL HUMANOID CONTAINMENT BREACHES. A FULL SITE LOCKDOWN HAS BEEN INITIATED.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh, god, fuck fuck fuck—
[Junior Researcher Willard runs to the door, frantically referencing a laminated map of his floor of the facility and its evacuation routes.]
INTERCOM: ALL NON-COMBAT PERSONNEL ARE TO PROCEED TO THEIR DESIGNATED EVACUATION SHELTERS IMMEDIATELY. SECURITY ARE TO REPORT TO THEIR ACTION STATIONS.

LOCATION: HALLWAYS; EVAC SHELTER D-1

[Junior Researcher Willard sprints through the hallways and approaches an evac shelter labeled D-1. He runs in and stops, and inside is met with a throng of personnel in jumpsuits, hard hats, and yellow reflective vests. A man in a green reflective vest at the center of the room, Senior Technician Jack Carter, is taking a headcount. Personnel answer audibly as their names are called.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Watson. Prelesnik. Johnson. Lynch. White. C-Dog. Powell. Martinez.
[The senior technician pauses.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Yo. I miss anyone? Anyone get tickled to death by the slime-ball? Anyone get spooked by the peripheral jumper?
TECHNICIAN DOUGLAS: Powell's mom saw my peripheral jumper last night.
[Everyone in the room, sans Junior Researcher Willard, breaks into laughter. Willard raises his hand.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: C-Dog, that was the dumbest joke I've—yeah, you in the back?
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Uhhh… J-Junior Researcher Cole Willard? Is that on your list?
[Carter looks down at his clipboard, then back at Willard.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: The fuck? Egghead, you're supposed to be in D-11, not D-1. Did you misread it or somethin'?
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh, I—
[The large blast doors to the shelter shut, locking loudly behind them.]
INTERCOM: RESPONSE TEAMS ARE CURRENTLY CLEARING OUT THE SITE. ALL PERSONNEL ARE ADVISED TO STAY IN THEIR SHELTERS UNTIL THE "ALL CLEAR" NOTICE HAS BEEN GIVEN.
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Welp. Fuck. Guess you're stuck here with us now, nerd. Get comfy.
TECHNICIAN WATSON: Fuckin' rookie mistake.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh.. uh.. I-I'm sorry. It's my, like, uh, fourth day here.
TECHNICIAN MARTINEZ: [Sarcastically] See you all in here next week!
[Carter looks at everyone else.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Tell you what, since you're new, and since I don't want to have to do this shit again next week…
[Carter takes out a handheld radio, holding it to face level. He keys it.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Carter to Ward.
[There is a pause, before a three-tone chirp is heard on the radio.]
DR. WARD (RADIO): This is Ward. Go ahead.
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: This, uh, one of your guys here? Some Junior Researcher here. Cole Willard.
[Another pause.]
DR. WARD (RADIO): Yeah, he's one of ours. Where is he?
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: He's here with us.
DR. WARD (RADIO): Understood. Tell him to see me after this is over. I'll count him as present. Ward, out.
[Carter lowers the radio, and grins.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: I'm fucked, aren't I?
TECHNICIAN LYNCH: Hey, chin up, kid. It's a rookie mistake, happens to everyone.
TECHNICIAN POWELL: Yeah, dude. At least you weren't taking a dump when a real lockdown happened. Worst day of my life, man.
[Everyone, sans Willard, chuckles.]
TECHNICIAN JOHNSON: Task forces wouldn't shut up about "toilet-man" here for a week.
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Hey. Knowing Dr. Ward, he'll let it slide.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Really?
TECHNICIAN WHITE: Yeah. Knowing Ward, most you'll have to do is a five page essay on why containment procedures and lockdown procedures are so important.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh…
[Everyone chuckles again. Willard laughs along uncomfortably.]
TECHNICIAN WHITE: Just fuckin' with you man. Like I said, rookie mistake.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Wait, so this isn't an actual containment breach?
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Fuck no, man. We have our monthly drill every second Thursday of the month. Today's Thursday, and I haven't heard anything go down. You're fine.
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: How do you know if shit's gotten bad?
TECHNICIAN DOUGLAS: Trust me, you'll know, bro.
[Silence ensues for about ten seconds before a buzzer is heard outside the door. A voice is heard from a speaker inside.]
VOICE: All up, Carter?
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Yup.
VOICE: Alright.
[Silence ensues for another thirty seconds.]
TECHNICIAN POWELL: You'd think they'd install a bathroom in here…
TECHNICIAN PRELESNIK: Don't even think about it. They'd never sign off on the idea.
TECHNICIAN WHITE: Maybe they'll consider it when the coffee machine in Admin "magically" breaks, and they want want us to fix it. I swear, no one cares about us technicians.
TECHNICIAN DOUGLAS: [Ominously] The way of the handyman is an esoteric, ancient craft, refined over many millennia, perfected by modern technology and engineering. Mastered by few, but appreciated by all. Few know this!
TECHNICIAN POWELL: Your mom told me she needed a handyman in her life last night.
[Everyone chuckles.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Alright, guys. Next person to make a "your mother" joke has to take inventory.
[The intercom chime plays.]
DIRECTOR HAWKINS: Director Hawkins to all personnel, ALL CLEAR. Good work in getting this done in record time. Please resume normal operations.
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Alright, back to work! Xenomaterials still needs deionized water and reagents, and someone please get the coffee machine in Utilities fixed.
[The blast doors begin to raise slowly. As everyone begins leaving, Carter holds his hand out for Willard.]
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Senior Technician Carter. If you need something fixed, restocked, whatever? Come to me.
[Willard shakes Carter's hand.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh.. uh, yeah! Thanks.
SR. TECHNICIAN CARTER: Also: don't let that happen again. If we screw up on these, we'll have to do it again the following week.
[Carter leaves the area.]
JR. RESEARCHER WILLARD: Oh… noted.

[END VIDEO LOG]

<< ACCESS RECORDING 8/13/2021 >>

>> ACCESS GRANTED <<

ARCHIVE DATE: FRIDAY, AUGUST 13, 2021

LOCATION: SITE-21 AUXILIARY FACILITY, "SASHA'S CLEANING PRODUCTS OFFICES", ████, ██, USA

[BEGIN VIDEO LOG]

[Dr. Ward and Dr. Crassus, both wearing white oxford shirts and black slacks, are standing in a large corporate training room, filled with several rows of chairs and desks facing a large smart board in the front of the room. The logo for Foundation front company Sasha's Cleaning Products is displayed on the smartboard.]
DR. WARD: Well, food certainly smells good, Marc.
[Dr. Crassus smiles, looking at a large buffet of catered Jamaican food in the back of the room. Soon, personnel assigned to Dr. Ward and Dr. Crassus's teams begin making their way inside the training room, including Researchers Wong and Forrest, Junior Researcher Willard, Senior Technician Carter, and a plethora of field agents and administrative assistants. Wong and Forrest hang their labcoats up by the door. Everyone seems to be wearing civilian clothing.]
RESEARCHER WONG: Ooooh, what's thiiis, bird-man? Party?
DR. CRASSUS: Nah, it's Friday, the hell yuh talking 'bout, Alex?
[Dr. Crassus chuckles. A large, burly man in black military-style fatigues suddenly enters; the identification on his uniform indicates that he is Level-3 Agent Hank Pitman, of Dr. Ward's field team. Everyone seems to stop for a moment as the man enters. Pitman looks at Ward indignantly.]
DR. WARD: Agent Pitman. Glad you could join us. Is your team joining us today?
AGENT PITMAN: Yeah, they're comin' in.
[Pitman steps aside. A few more agents walk in, noting the platters of food.]
DR. WARD: The more the merrier.
DR. CRASSUS: Alright, that should be… everyone! Powell, could you shut the door for a moment?
[Technician Powell closes the door. Everyone takes a seat, facing Dr. Crassus and Dr. Ward. Crassus clasps his hands together.]
DR. CRASSUS: Alright, everyone, thanks for coming! You know how we do things here with my team, every second Friday is a team lunch. You're welcome to take some of the tasty Jamaican catered food in the back once I'm finished. I've got a couple announcements first! I'm tracking that we have a couple new faces in the room—don't think I don't see you, Willard! I've got good eyesight!
[Researcher Wong encourages Willard to stand up, much to the Junior Researcher's chagrin. Everyone gives a quick round of applause for Willard.]
DR. CRASSUS: Willard's the newest member of Ward's primary research team, you might've seen him in Xenomaterials this week at AS-21, or doing paperwork here in town. Let's be nice. Anyways… we have a couple more announcements: Today is Dr. Chenault's last day at AS-21, effective Monday he'll be gone. He's transferring to Site-19 for ontokinetics work. We'll miss you, Kev.
[A bespectacled man stands up, giving a few waves.]
DR. CHENAULT: I'll be sure to come visit when I can. It's been a pleasure working with you all. Willard, you'll make a great addition to the team.
RESEARCHER FORREST: I'll miss you, big man.
DR. CRASSUS: Next up, great work on that containment breach drill yesterday, I think that was a record! Again, for the new folks, we do those every second Thursday of the month. Also, for our field teams and task forces, we're working with AS-21 R&D to get you outfitted with more non-lethal and less-than-lethal equipment. I am tracking that Agent Lynn at AS-21's also been busy with training the new recruits, so you may see a few new faces in your ranks soon.
[Dr. Crassus looks at Dr. Ward for a moment.]
DR. CRASSUS: Lastly, Ward's got an announcement. I'll let you take it from here, John.
[Dr. Crassus retreats back to a table in the front of the room that he promptly leans against. Dr. Ward steps forward and clears his throat.]
DR. WARD: Before I begin, I'd just like to say… great work, everyone. Team leads, project leads, task forces, research personnel, containment specialists, and, yes, our technicians, too. You all have done a stellar job over the last couple of weeks. We live in a changing world with a variety of threats and anomalies. At times, it may seem like the larger Foundation is containing less and less humanoid anomalies, but the work we do here is critical to the success of the Foundation, and the safety of the the ordinary civilians outside who live their everyday lives.
[Dr. Ward sighs.]
DR. WARD: With that, I would just like to make an apology for the events that happened earlier this week. As you may know, there was an incident at my home. A hostile humanoid entity attacked my son in my own house. I terminated the entity and called in my recovery team. To Agent Pitman especially, I take full responsibility for the lengthy recovery process and the ad hoc containment of the incident, as it was short notice, but let it be known: It is my personal belief that I was in the right for what happened.
[A few personnel in the room look amongst each other for a moment.]
DR. WARD: I know many of you in this room are not parents, and I understand that for virtually everyone in this room, this is your only job for operational safety reasons. However, I implore everyone in this room to stay grounded, and remember what it is we do at the SCP Foundation, and why we do it. Everyone knows that we Secure and Contain anomalies, but let us not forget that we also Protect humanity from them. We do this not only because containment is necessary—mankind cannot coexist with murderous statues or hostile humanoid entities roaming around freely—but also because it's our duty. We die in the dark so they may live in the light. No civilian under our watch deserves to suffer or die from forces totally unknown to them.
[Personnel in the room begin nodding in agreement]
DR. WARD: Whether or not you share Site-21 Admin's sentiments of disagreeing my termination of that entity is entirely up to you, and I won't hold you against it. I'd just like to reiterate the one thing I tell every new hire: sometimes, not everything has hard-coded instructions you must follow.
[Dr. Ward pauses for a moment.]
DR. WARD: Sometimes, you must simply do what you must to protect those you love. With that emotional speech out of the way… I'd like to make one last announcement: the tribunal ruled that my actions that day were in accordance with the Foundation's mission statement. Ultimately, I will not be receiving any punishment aside from a verbal warning…
[He pauses again, as if for dramatic effect.]
DR. WARD: …and I look forward to continue working with you all for the forseeable future. Thank you.
[Applause fills the room. As it dies down, Dr. Crassus steps forward.]
DR. CRASSUS: Right, go get some food! Enjoy your lunch!
[Everyone steps up and moves to the back of the room to grab paper plates, plastic silverware, and napkins, to begin serving themselves. Agent Pitman steps forward and gives Dr. Ward a firm handshake before moving to the back of the room.]
DR. CRASSUS: Come on, even you, Willard! Don't make me throw away good food, man!
[As some time passes, some of the staff have finished eating and leave to resume their duties. Researchers Wong and Forrest remain in the room, chatting.]
RESEARCHER WONG: So, last thing we've got to do today, I think, is prepping the thermal cycler and putting some of the tissue samples in there, and maybe just storing the rest on ice for next week.
RESEARCHER FORREST: Then sending those results to Site-88?
RESEARCHER WONG: Yup.
[Some silence passes.]
RESEARCHER FORREST: Anyways, uh, Alex… since tomorrow's the weekend and all, and since we aren't on the skeleton crew, I've been meaning to ask you—
RESEARCHER WONG: Hm? You were going to ask me the same thing Monday. What was it?
RESEARCHER FORREST: Do you, uh, like, wanna, um. Do anything tomorrow? I mean, you're not busy and—
RESEARCHER WONG: Yeah. Sure, let's do it. Just remind me after we finish today's work, yeah?
RESEARCHER FORREST: Y-Yeah. Sure thing.
[Wong leaves the room. As she does this, Forrest gives a silent yet dramatic celebration as he tosses his plate the trash, then proceeds out of the room.]

[END VIDEO LOG]