Item#: 4431

Level4

Containment Class:
euclid

Secondary Class:
none

Disruption Class:
vlam

Risk Class:
warning

link to memo

Bannard expedition photograph; unlabeled.

Special Containment Procedures: Research Station-05 has been built directly above SCP-4431-A. Seismometers across Antarctica will monitor activity from SCP-4431-A and report any irregularities in the anomaly's behavior. At least one boring probe and an ice sheet drilling mechanism are to be kept at the station in the event that investigation of SCP-4431-A is necessary.
Contact is to be maintained with all Foundation and non-Foundation research stations in Antarctica for reports of SCP-4431-B manifestations. If a manifestation is reported, personnel at the station are advised to monitor the manifestation and resultant SCP-4431-C instances. Objects left by expired instances are to be transported to the nearest Foundation facility. Mobile Task Force Xi-1 ("Dispatch from Miskatonic") will be deployed for containment if necessary. Non-Foundation personnel that witness these anomalies will be administered appropriate amnestics on leaving Antarctica.
Cover stories regarding the Dayton Bannard Antarctic expedition have been disseminated, reporting the expedition's ship as having vanished en route to the Filcher Ice Shelf. As surviving personal accounts from Bannard describe a wide variety and number of anomalous phenomena beyond SCP-4431, all information on the expedition has been acquired by the Foundation.
Potential links between the events of the expedition and SCP-4431-A's current activity are of high concern.

Overhead view of Research Station-05 in the Antarctica Plateau.

Description: SCP-4431 designates two subterranean artificial structures (SCP-4431-A and SCP-4431-B) and a collection of psionic organisms (SCP-4431-C) present in East Antarctica.
SCP-4431-A is a machine located 3,400m below the Antarctic Plateau1, buried in the bedrock under the East Antarctic Ice Sheet. The object's depth renders it undetectable by ice-penetrating radar, preventing full analysis of its appearance and size. Current size estimates include a minimum width of 20km. As drilling investigations to examine the structure invariably end in failure (refer to Discovery), no further information on SCP-4431-A is known.
SCP-4431-B is a cylindrical tunnel constructed from a rhodium-platinum alloy, with a 11m interior radius. The tunnel extends for 39m before reaching a sharp vertical drop, which descends for a distance estimated to be a minimum of 3,000m. SCP-4431-B will manifest in a region of the Antarctic Plateau on a bimonthly basis, rising out of the terrain until a majority of its entrance is exposed.2 A variable number of SCP-4431-C instances will then exit, often between one or seven. After a period of time ranging from eight hours to three days, SCP-4431-B demanifests, retracting into the ground. Connection with tracking devices placed on the structure during demanifestation are all lost after two hours, preventing observation of SCP-4431-B's relocation.
The body structure of SCP-4431-C instances can vary, though consistent details have been determined. These details are as follows:

1m tall upright conical bodies, with the main body and each limb segmented in a manner similar to arthropods. The main body is divided into three sections.
Four or more legs attached to the base of the body.
Variable numbers of 3m long tendrils on the body's midsection, each ending in a claw.
A toroidal mass covered in small, unknown biological structures, affixed around the top of the body. Presumed to be a form of sensory organ.
A set of mandibles on the bottom of the cone.

Anatomical deviations tend to include features that aid in withstanding Antarctic conditions or other purposes. Tumorous growths acting as heat radiators have been observed, along with cybernetic flamethrower implants. Many instances possess conical protrusions on their body, which open to dispense environmental monitoring devices.3 Rarely, instances are found with the tops of their bodies replaced by antennas and clusters of spherical machinery that serve similar purposes.
Following SCP-4431-B manifestation, SCP-4431-C instances will attempt to construct makeshift structures from any surrounding materials, presumably intended to be shelters. Instances typically expire in a few hours from environmental factors, though ones brought into containment have average lifespans of 11 hours. Primary cause of death is the gradual degradation of internal organs. Following this, all organic matter on the instance dissolves into a bright pink fluid (hereafter referred to as haemorozin).
Instances possess psionic abilities, used for the manipulation of objects, surroundings, and entities. Limited telepathic communication has been displayed on occasion.
Information on the suspected origins of SCP-4431 is restricted.

Addendum.4431.1:
Discovery

The first reports of SCP-4431 are from 1919, when an Antarctic expedition lead by former British naval officer Dayton Bannard repeatedly encountered SCP-4431-B and SCP-4431-C instances (refer to Addendum.4431.1). Accounts of SCP-4431-B manifestations continued after the first Antarctic research stations were established, leading to SCP-4431-B and SCP-4431-C being classified as anomalies in 2000.
SCP-4431-A came to the attention of the Foundation in March of 2019, when Foundation personnel operating at Research Outpost-02 in the Antarctic Plateau detected abnormal seismic activity originating from an underground location. Based on Foundation simulations of Earth's tectonic plate movement, it was determined that this could be the possible location of a ring-shaped lake depicted on SCP-2651-A, presuming it was not destroyed by geologic activity and prehistoric K-Class events after ~700 million years. Plans for excavation were proposed when the source of the activity triangulated to a region 10km in radius.4

The boring probe and initial borehole.

In June of 2019 a specialized boring probe was sent through the ice sheet and drilled into the bedrock, attaining a depth of 3,400m before entering a cavern with an oxygen-rich atmosphere and contacting a metal surface. Images from the probe show the surface to be covered in an array of mechanical appendages that were in the process of excavating the cavern ceiling. All readings from the probe were lost an hour after contact. Retrieval attempts failed due to the sudden collapse of the sub-bedrock section of the borehole and the formation of frozen haemorozin within the main drilling mechanism. All subsequent drilling investigations have experienced similar outcomes.
SCP-4431-A was registered as an anomaly in August of 2019. Of note is that, since the first drilling investigation, the number of recorded SCP-4431-B manifestations has increased.

Addendum.4431.2:
Dayton Bannard Journal Excerpts

The following are relevant excerpts from the personal journal of Dayton Bannard, written during his expedition to reach the South Pole. Bannard failed to keep dates for a majority of entries; the excerpts are suspected to have been written during spring of early 1919. Recovered photographs are included.

 ▼ Bannard/4431 Excerpts 1 ▼ 

 △ Bannard/4431 Excerpts 1 △ 

Photograph label: "After the encounter." The subject is presumed to be Bannard.

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
Searching for Giles was a fruitless endeavor. The snow had been piling up for hours, ruining any footprints, and not a soul could be seen on the horizon in such heavy blue twilight. I shouted for him in vain attempts before I gave up and went back to base. By the time I returned the snow had piled up high enough by our ramshackle hut that I had to dig my way in.
I shut the door behind me and there was silence. No sounds from any crew members, nor the gusts outside—only the creaks of the wood as I moved. Then I heard it. A constant clicking, that started up, stopped, and kept repeating. I crept towards the main room's entrance, peeking around the corner and suddenly freezing in place. A hole was in one of the walls, fully plugged up with snow, and standing in the center was a beast I can barely begin to describe. Its body was a cone, resting on four spider-like legs, whip like limbs swirling around it, a ring-shaped thing resting on top. I nearly screamed then and there.
My heart was racing as its body swayed and stumbled towards me. I felt a splitting headache and then a voice rang out in my head. This "voice," so much unlike a voice I may as well not describe it as such, said a single word: "home." The beast's body then softened like cracker being dipped in water, collapsing apart into a foul-smelling pink fluid. There was a sudden tremor and then the walls around buckled. I rested in that snow for what felt like an eternity, praying to God.
Once the crew pulled me to my feet they told me that the beast had barged in through the wall while I was out, prompting everyone to hide where they could. Nobody saw what it did before I returned.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
Once we started eating Cy started to panic. He kept asking over and over again if the beast was some type of demon, wondering he heard the voice of the Devil himself (I suspect he heard the same "voice" I did). I wish I had an answer.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

Photograph label: "Looking outside of the cave." The subject in the image is unknown.

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
When we had fully awoken, Richard proposed that we go out and find where the beast had come from. We were all apprehensive at first, Cy being the most nervous among us, but after a long discussion we realized we had little else to do until Lewin's crew returns with supplies. When the snow finally stopped piling up we went out to survey the area for any abnormalities.
The first several hours met with no discoveries until I heard Abner hollering by a cave entrance. Nothing peculiar struck me when I first entered, but as I went further I noticed what Abner obsessing over. At the cave's rear, at the bottom of a long downwards incline fashioned into what seemed like a staircase, was a cavernous tunnel, not composed of ice or rock but of perfectly smooth metal the likes of which I have never seen before. It stretched out further than any light could reach. There is no doubt in my mind that this where the beast came from.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

I awoke to the sound of splintering wood and a thunderous crash. The wood that made up much of the hut's ceiling buckled under the weight of continued snowfall and dropped a dense wall of snow into the main room. Thankfully Shelton, who had been sleeping there, was far enough to one side that we were easily able to dig him out. After hours of digging we were able to form tunnels connecting with all areas of the hut, but we know that this will not work as a shelter much longer. Richard has been adamant that we use the cave, stating that it's our only chance at survival. We all wish that didn't have to be the case, but as I look at the walls around me I fear that they will collapse a moment too soon.
In a few hours time the eight of us will hold a vote on our course of action. All I know is that turning back will not be an option.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

We unanimously voted to use the cave. I can tell that none of us are enthused by this (especially Cy, who is failing hiding his nervousness under an emotionless veneer), but by now the den of a monster is more inviting then death under mounds of snow. The snowfall has stopped and we will depart in a few hours time.

So far the tunnel has proven a good fit for our survival. A constant heat flows out of it, warming the air to the point that Richard was able to not wear any protective clothing ten meters into it. None of this air escapes far into the cave, relegating us to an eerie darkness. I've dared not to go near that pit at the tunnel's end. On multiple occasions I swear I've heard clicking noises but whenever I ask it turns out to have only been myself.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
Richard has been acting strangely, a statement that seems redundant but is more true than ever before. Every couple of hours he raps seven times on the tunnel walls, goes out for what he says are brief strolls only to carve more esoteric symbols into the cave's ice. He seems happier than I've ever seen him. I've always thought of him to be a mystic who had largely shed his roots for a nobler, educated life, but now as I watch him I highly doubt this notion.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

As Abner does his best to keep morale up by roping everyone into improvised theatre performances, I find myself going to the edge of the pit, away from the laughter and commotion to sit with my own thoughts. I tossed the small religious pendant Giles left behind in there and carefully listened for it to hit the bottom. A few slight tinks against the metal walls then silence. All I heard was just my heartbeat. The light from the lamp I bring along has barely provided enough to let me see the walls of this massive structure, so I have no idea of how far down it goes.
Occasionally Richard will join me. He silently walks in and sits a bit farther behind me, gazing off into nothing. We've never exchanged a single word here. To us it's a sacred place to be alone with our thoughts, and I dare not disturb that peace for anyone. He's far braver than I am in turning off his lamp when he arrives, though. I always pointlessly fear that at some point that shadows will pull me away, leaving the rest of the crew on their own, and this lamp is my safeguard against it. Or perhaps I worry that in the darkness I'll stumble and fall to my death. Whatever the reason, with this light I make the things we've I've seen on the voyage feel less real.

We woke up to find that Richard was gone. His sleeping bag was open with much of his equipment left behind. Abner checked the cave and couldn't find any new marks in the snow, so he had to have still been in the tunnel. After a moment of preparation to retrieve lamps we started going deep into the tunnel. Minutes later I turned around to see that everyone had stopped following me several meters back. I ordered them to come forward but they simply stood there, doing nothing. I decided to go on without them, reaching the edge of the abyss after what felt like hours.
I reached the ledge, solely hearing the rattling of my lamp and my quickening heartbeat. All that I could find was Richard's boots and a single lit lamp. I looked about all over, hoping I would see him elsewhere in the darkness, but he was nowhere. He'd fallen in. I cursed the Heavens and stomped the ground, kicked his lamp in with a great swing of the foot and watched its light tumble down till it vanished. When I came out I told the crew that he'd left without a trace.
Eventually I came to ask why they had stopped following me, despite my clear orders. Quietly, when no-one else would speak, Palmer told me that they had begun fearing for their own lives. They saw one of the beasts clinging to the ceiling directly above me.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

I can't return to the pit anymore. I look down there and swear I see the flickering of light, I look up the walls and swear I see shifting symbols and shapes, and when I close my eyes and look nowhere I still see something. A ring, a halo, suspended in the colorless region under my eyelids. The last time I went to-day I started hearing that God forsaken noise. That clicking of the beasts. I peered past the edge and my lamp snuffed out, whether by my negligence to check the fuel or something else. I stood there for moments, paralyzed, and I came to a terrible realization. Every time I had been here the only sound to keep me company would be my heartbeat and interspersed gaseous noises from the lamp. That sound was not my heartbeat.
I spun around right as the "voices" grew from faint whispers to murmurs and I ran, dropping the lamp and only stopping when I saw the lights of my crew.
To-morrow I will inform the crew of a new rule. Nobody is allowed further than ten meters away from the tunnel entrance. That hole can only lead to further woes.

 ▼ Bannard/4431 Excerpts 2 ▼ 

 △  Bannard/4431 Excerpts 2  △ 

Unlabeled photograph.

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
When I returned from outside and reached the "stairwell" I saw the crew outside the tunnel, pressing themselves up against the cavern walls to either side of the entrance. I was about to ask what was happening when Palmer signaled me to be quiet and move to the far wall. The crew isn't idiotic so I knew they had a good reason for this, and I quickly followed his command. Silence at first, then scraping, then clicking. I went behind a pillar of ice and peered out to see three beasts climb up the staircase. Two left the cavern while one with massive bulges on its body froze in place. One of the bulges cracked and it shattered, dropping a black sphere. The beast then left to join its companions.
Once I knew they were gone I went to inspect the sphere they left, which had a crude stick figure of a human on it. I tapped it with my foot and it split in half, revealing a growing mass of some sort of pale, flesh-like foam that quickly became larger than myself. Eventually it stopped growing and rested there, pulsating.
I've been in the tunnel since, unwilling to interact with this thing for the time being.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]

The foam is food.
We were on one of our last cans of good meat when Cy threw his to ground, shouted about how sick he was of it, and then ran out of the tunnel and up the staircase. We chased after him (we couldn't let what Giles did repeat) and saw his face buried in the foam, chewing like a mad animal. He pulled his head out to tell us how great it tasted then plunged back in. None of us knew what to do at first. Shaw simply shrugged then joined in, and over time the rest of us did too. It was the most nourishing meal I've had in ages.

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
We pay the beasts far less mind now. We will still go quiet when three or more of them march past us in the tunnel, but they have harmed us naught. Not even a single "voice" has been heard. Every two days a new food sphere is dropped, even with the other ones being far from deplenished. Outside the beasts continually drop strange objects and apparatuses until they melt into the snow, at which point a new group emerges to repeat the process. Palmer, Abner, and I have tried to understand what these devices do but their nearly monolithic designs elude us.
The twilight continues to haunt us—certainly it will always be the case until the daylight months return—but Antarctica has come to feel less treacherous. I will continue to keep my guard, though. For the sake of my crew I won't allow us to be caught when we are vulnerable.

Something impossible happened last night (prior to me falling asleep, so I write this the following day). We heard the familiar clanging noises of the beasts as a new group was nearing the tunnel exit, but there was a difference. I have grown accustomed to hearing the rhythmic noises they make when moving across metal, so when I heard an entirely different set of sounds I was disturbed.
Coming out of the tunnel, flanked on both sides by two beasts, was something only vaguely human. It moved on mechanical legs, six many-jointed silver arms dangling, the seventh arm emerging from its chest pointed forward. The torso was hidden under a tattered, blood-stained coat, and a mask of ice that refused to melt obscured its face.
The creature shambled over to me and spoke in a voice like faulty typewriters, introducing itself as Richard Parish. By that point I was certain I was dreaming, so I welcomed him back and then fell asleep. When I woke up in the morning I was not prepared to see him truly exist.

Photograph label: "Richard."

I'd be lying if I said that none of us were in shock at Richard's return. He acts as though he never left, only alluding to changes when he calls himself an "ambassador for man." Whenever I ask about what happened to him in the pit he becomes silent, only talking again when the conversation shifts to a different topic. Never has he taken off the mask, saying it's best it stays on.
His behavior has also become even more peculiar. He accompanies the beasts when they leave to drop their devices, then uses his arms to open the machines and apparently inspect them. He continues to do the "seven knocks on metal" ritual but now its accompanied by his own clicking sounds, and I am certain that the objects he carves with his symbols now glow in the darkness. It is faint but I know it is there. When nothing else is happening he'll ramble on about nonsensical subjects. All I can understand are sentences about how everyone should be bleeding.
I can't trust him. I mustn't.

In the "afternoon" (or at least what felt like it), I assembled Abner and Palmer for what I told the crew was "a survey of the outside to find the best route for the expedition." In reality we went to check the devices. Richard was returning to the tunnel when we left so we knew that not a soul would see us.
The target of our investigation was a cubic machine. It had an array of limbs that stabbed the snow and pumped a brown fluid into it, staining the area. The three of us tried to pull a limb out of the ground, then tried to hoist the entire object, but we found that it was firmly stuck in place. Abner spotted a panel on one side and opened it, exposing some sort of spherical contraption surrounded by wires on the inside. Messing with the interior of a potentially dangerous mechanism was a terrible idea, so we started digging up the snow around it.
The ice was wholly being replaced by some form of pale purple dirt, blue plant-things sprouting in it. Palmer rushed over to a near identical object, dug around, and found more purple dirt and blue plants. For an hour we watched the ice transmute into dirt and sprout plants like nothing I have heard of. Even small slug-like creatures began to take form from fluids in the soil. We returned to the tunnel an hour later.
[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
Recently Cy has taken an interest in Richard's nonsense. He'll sit by him, listening to every word he says like a student with their teacher. I swear I've seen him take notes on a scrap of paper once. To-day when Richard started the knocking he joined in, and now they are repeating the same chants as I write. I haven't seen him scared at the sight of a beast since.
Cy may be the youngest but he isn't idiotic. That much I know. If he is willing to listen and follow along with the occult then there must be a reason for it. What such a reason could be escapes me.

I was returning from a brief look outside when Richard approached me, telling me that he had questions. He led me to a section of the cave away from the tunnel and asked me why Palmer, Abner and I keep leaving to inspect the machines (he saw us). I said that I was only interested in what they were doing in as calm of a manner as I could muster. Like a faulty record he started asking if I "meant harm" incessantly. I kept responding with "no" but as he asked I began doubting how true my answer was.
He abruptly paused, placed a hand on my shoulder, and asked if I realized the importance the beasts held. I was so out of my wits that I was silent. He said that, if I was interested in the machines, I should be joining him in his rituals. He claimed that it would be an enlightening experience for everyone and a path with more opportunities than heading for the South Pole. I nearly lost my nerve and shouted about how far we had come since we departed and how renowned we would be upon returning. He sighed, said that it was pointless to be in the shadow of Amundsen when there was a higher purpose below, then left for the tunnel.

Whether by our digging that exposed the dirt or by the whims of the machines, the dirt has replaced at least half an acre. The plants have become spore-spewing pillars and the slugs as large as my feet, occasionally dividing like cells or inflating into zeppelin creatures that fly to the horizon and out of sight. The other machines seem to be helping the growth, releasing dirt-making fluid and foam for the animals. The beasts simply perform inspections then leave devices farther out in the tundra. It is reassuring that the expansion seems to have slowed down, but the amount of life here is constantly increasing. It's as if every time I turn to look some new type of slug or "plant" has been born.
The situation at the tunnel seems to be equally deteriorating. Cy isn't alone. Shaw, Shelton, and Esben are all involved in hourly rituals. They barely notice when I call out to them, more intent on every move Richard makes and his talk of impossible stars, bleeding gods, and world-sized corpses. The only one to pay me any mind is Esben. Initially I was afraid by how nonsensical Richard seemed to be. Now I'm afraid that the nonsense is true.

I am not one to keep logs of dreams, but this one has happened so often and is recalled so clearly that I must write it down.
It starts with seven points of light in darkness. One point cracks and bleeds pink liquid, which coalesces into a thin, glowing ring. Then there is a planet, the details of which are just a fuzz. The ring emerges on the planet and stays until the planet cracks. A second planet, covered in what I think are green oceans, appears and the ring emerges again. Something made of flesh rises on it and the planet vanishes, replaced by another covered in purple soil with the pink ring on it. A hole opens [ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with haemorozin] and the ring appears above Antarctica.
A week ago, when I heard the "voice," I didn't know why it said "home." Surely the home of such a monstrosity would be long ways off from here, down in the underworld were it belongs. It had to have been confused. Now I've realiz—[ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with haemorozin]—demons are far too human for what these ar—
[REMAINDER OF PAGE ILLEGIBLE: Stained with haemorozin.]

I woke up last night while everyone else was sleeping after feeling something rub against my back. Standing overhead was Richard, reading my journal and dripping the damn pink blood out of his mask as he did so. He'd reached behind my back, into my sleeping bag, and pulled it out. I tried to stay as still as possible, provide an illusion of slumber. Minutes that felt like years passed and he dropped the journal in front of me, stepping over me and walking deeper into the tunnel. Once I was sure he had left I reached to pull my journal back to safety when a metal hand slammed down onto mine. I was dragged out of the bed. I've forgotten the rest.
It isn't safe here anymore. I won't write till it is.

 ▼ Bannard/4431 Excerpts 3 ▼ 

 △ Bannard/4431 Excerpts 3 △ 

Earlier to-day I woke Abner and Palmer to tell them about last night's events. There was no doubt we had to move. Everyone else was sleeping and I had seen Richard go deep into the tunnel with two beasts, so we quietly packed whatever supplies we could. Palmer accidentally woke Esben, who we told that we would be departing to survey the land, though Esben was luckily sane. He pleaded to come with us, saying that the rituals Richard's started seemed entertaining at first but are now incredibly disturbing. Although I am wary I brought him along. More hands on deck is always better.
Our trek outside was uneventful, though the ecosystem the beasts had been creating with the dirt is now flourishing. I barely know where I can begin describing the The amount of "plants" has increased to the point where much of the purple ground is covered in strange yellows and blues. "Insects" would scurry out of our path before I could get a good look at them, and the slugs (now as large as horses) were feasting on the remains of something long. We were all happy to be out of there.
I am currently writing this within the hut we abandoned. I don't know how long it will stay standing. Once it does fall, I don't know where we will go. Our supplies will last us for a few days, but when they run out I know Lewin's crew will be too far away to aid us. God help me.

When we left yesterday someone had to have been listening to our move. Through one of the windows I can see Richard, Shaw, Shelton, and Cy, standing side by side in the distance. I think they are watching the hut. I've told the crew and we'll be staying on guard.

It's an hour later. Richard, Shaw, and Cy have left for the cave. Shelton seemed to "fall" into the snow and vanish. I occasionally see brief movement under the snow but it feels like my mind is playing tricks on me.

An hour after my last entry Shelton broke into the hut. I heard the shattering of glass and I found that he had lunged through the window at Abner, trying to strangle him. I kicked him off and the four of us got him restrained and tied up to a chair. His skin had paled since we last saw him, and a metal cylinder, warm to the touch, had been embedded in his chest. We tried to get him to talk but much like Richard he went quiet and stared nowhere.
Esben then knelt down by the chair, whispered a sentence in the language Richard was so fond of, and he started shaking. He told us that Richard wanted to speak with me, a statement he kept repeating again and again (either that was all his brain let him say or he needed to keep quiet about something else). Mid-sentence he went quiet, gurgled a bit, then his whole head started to melt and sink below the collar of his jacket. Like a heated wax statue his whole body liquified and all that remained was a pool of pink blood.

After much deliberation, I will head out to meet with Richard. I can see him from the window, standing at the edge of the ecosystem. If I don't return I'll leave Abner in charge of what little remains of the expedition. He'll make it to the Pole in my honor.

I survived. When I arrived the only people there were Cy and Richard. I was hoping that the pink blood stains wouldn't be obvious on my clothes, but now that I inspect them it's clear they could see it. They knew what happened. Richard made some sort of noise (a chuckle?) and he said that "they" did not mean the world harm, that after this shaky start it would improve.
Richard's body, for lack of accurate words, unfolded. His body spasmed open and a cylindrical spire shot out of the fractured remains, growing like a deranged plant. I recoiled, with Cy taking the chance to start choking me, not noticing the ice axe I had brought (I am cleaning the viscera off it as I write).
Once the regrettable deed was done it was far too late for Richard, though. The spire was thicker than his entire torso and was growing by the second, pulling the rest of his mass and the surrounding terrain inwards with twisting metal tendrils. Every single apparatus the creatures had left behind was pulled in and incorporated into its mass, with similarly shaped protrusions forming on the sides. The last words I heard from him were "protect existence." His head was pulled in with a sickening crunch right after.
All I could do was run. The rest of the day has been spent with the crew, watching from the camp in horror as the tower grows taller than the highest steeples. The Antarctic night is setting in and bright red lights are flickering along the tower's sides.

The next seven pages consist of drawings. It is unknown what many of the drawings represent, though several have been identified as SCP-4431-C instances, vehicles resembling those found at Martian impact crater Herschel, unknown organisms, and sketches depicting the tower previously described. The only text present is the word "spreading."

Under those unearthly lights of the flora and tower I can spot someone entering a vehicle, almost like the "tanks" my military friend spoke of. Unless they are operated in unimaginable ways, these will be our best chance at reaching the pole. First priority is halting the beasts. I won't let myself be responsible for not ending this when I had the chance. God give us strength.

In the "morning" the crew and I gathered any tools that could serve as weapons and our best supplies, then set out to the tower. With Cy and Shelton dead and Richard effectively gone, the only dangers would be the beasts, the creatures of the ecosystem, and Shaw. As we moved, the beasts—levitating around the tower's exterior and adjusting its external machinery—melted into a pink rain, which I hoped had rid us of one more problem.
Once we entered the ecosystem much of the fauna ignored us, more interested in violently attacking each other or mating in bizarre manners. After several minutes we finally saw the tank up close. The vehicle's main mass is a sideways egg-shaped contraption, with large treads attached on either side. Above each tread is a massive mechanical structure, reminding me of the bulky front limbs and claws of crabs.
Problems emerged right as we reached it. Shaw opened the tank's hatch and stepped out, noticed us, then began shouting. Esben shouted something back before being pushed against the tank by an invisible force. Two men, each with bodies built like Richard's but with the exact same face as Shelton, stepped around the tank's edge and babbled in more of that language before running towards us. Abner fired his rifle but the same force made the bullets slow and drop like stones. Palmer made a similar attempt by throwing his lamp but it was tossed far off behind them, breaking and starting a fire.
When they were pressed against the side as well I was certain I was done for, but they froze and stared at me. They were waiting for me to make a move, to have a reason to retaliate. My body was freezing and without shelter inside the vehicle I would perish. Panicking I scurried around, looking for anything I could use when I found a small slug, likely only recently spawned. Disregarding any rational thought I grabbed it and threw it at one of the Shelton duplicates, who didn't so much as flinch. The slug emitted a gurgling screech and a larger entity shambled out of the darkness, resembling one of the slugs but standing on six spindly legs. Its head split open into massive tentacles and the Shelton was pulled into its maw. Esben and Abner fell onto the ground and rushed to open the hatch.
The last Shelton pulled me toward them, folding their mouth open and releasing a long silver structure. In a stroke of luck I still had the ice axe on me, and once I reached them I could save myself from whatever fate awaited me. I crashed onto the ground and sprinted for the hatch, which Esben had holding open as Palmer got in. When I reached it one of the blasted beasts suddenly emerged from the darkness, wrapping its tendrils around the door edges and grabbing onto poor Esben. He was whipped off into the darkness, screaming until a series of metal scrapes and wet cracking sounds rang out.
I shut the hatch and the area instantly warmed. In a stroke of luck the tank's interior is designed as if its makers intended for men to operate it, with various easily accessed storage cabinets along the sides and a ladder leading to a hatch on the top. Abner was at a seat in the front, looking at an array of glass panels suspended by mechanical structures. Each panel glowed and presented views from outside the tank, despite none of the panels being connected to any wall or having any movie projector. He slowly experimented with every button and mechanism until we started moving forward, colliding into the tower.
My memory of the next events is heavily broken, and trying to recall it brings on intense mental pains. Abner began ramming against the tower while pushing with the tank's claws to make it topple, and with each thud I heard the "voice" of Richard. It shouted at me, telling me that I was idiotic, and with every collisions it screamed louder to call me a murderer and "A KILLER OF HUMANITY'S FUTURE" (why do I write it in capitals?). The last I remember was the "voice" sobbing.
The next moment I can remember is us driving away from the tower, which had just collapsed and crushed the cave. Through the panels I can now see massive gashes in the tower's exterior flashing impossibly vibrant colours. The next several hours have been silent reminiscing. I've told Abner to drive faster, as I know this cannot be a safe object to be around.

Abner beckoned the two of us over to see what was happening on the panels. The colours from the tower had grown bright enough to be like the rising sun, and the surrounding snow and rocks were being lifted into the air around it. I then witnessed a sight I can't stop thinking about. A number of large, black tendrils pushed out of the ruins of the cave and began pulling the tower into the snow. It was as if the tunnel had come to life and wanted needed something that was in that infernal pillar.
There was a violent explosion soon after. I felt the entire vehicle get lifted into the air and thrown back down, which we think has broken one of Palmer's ribs from a collision with the ladder. Looking outside now the site where we had been is now a white inferno, illuminating the sky and creating the illusion of a sunny day.

[IRRELEVANT TEXT EXPUNGED]
We were driving when we a heard loud, wet slam come from right outside the vehicle. I opened the hatch to look out, and lo and behold, Richard had come for a visit. His torso was little more than an amalgam of metal, pulling itself through the snow with three broken arms, a comet trail of pink and red blood stretching out of the crater he made in the snow. I ordered Abner to stop driving but he kept at the wheel (not even making eye contact with me). He didn't even consider how important this was. I yelled as much as I could until the fool stopped.
I went to sit by Richard as his two wound-shaped mouths began babbling like a dying phonograph. I caressed his its head (never have I seen metal crumple so much beneath single presses), whispered apologies to the holes in its face, and swung my axe down over and over [ILLEGIBLE: Text scribbled out]. Not a word has been spoken since I returned.

I remember my departure from England, how I spoke of being able to witness grandeur none in my village would ever see. Sure enough I have seen a world no other man will come to witness, one that puts Amundsen's kiddy sight-seeing to shame. [ILLEGIBLE: Paper stained with blood]. If the map this machine shows is to be believed we are getting closer to our destination by the second (I never needed Abner to drive). Sadly my ink is nearly run out and my pencils mere stubs, so my entries on what's left of the journey will be far less frequent.
For the crew members who have died, I am sorry, and I do not ask that you forgive me. I will continue in your honor. I will reach this damned pole, and may God cast me out of Heaven if I don't.

Notably, a ring-shaped stain of haemorozin is present on the upper left corner of this page.
No further entries are present.

The journal and photographs were discovered after MTF ξ-1 located the "tank" vehicle of Bannard and the remaining crew in July of 2000, 11km away from the South Pole. Although the tank had retained power and heating due to its anomalous power source, one of the treads had been heavily damaged and prevented continued movement.
Inside the tank was the decayed cadaver of a male human, who had expired from repeated penetrations on the body, matching those caused by an ice axe. The identity of the cadaver has not been determined.
The fate of the Bannard crew is unknown.

Addendum.4431.3:
South Pole Incident

On 20/09/2019, severe seismic activity occurred at the site of the Geographic South Pole. The Amundsen-Scott South Pole station only experienced minor damages, but its crew reported the emergence of an unknown rocky spire, 51m from the station. Foundation assets were scrambled to the area.
Excavation of the rocky spire found that it extends for an approximate depth of 40m into the Antarctic Plateau. However, fragments composed of its material extend for far deeper, with the lowest at a depth of 110m. It is considered likely that the fragments stretch to the Antarctic bedrock. The upper portion of the spire contains the remnants of a tube similar to SCP-4431-B, though at a width at which a human individual could fit inside with moderate difficulty. Broken pieces of an ice axe blade surround the tube, and a bloodied coat is embedded into the spire nearby.
A compacted soil-like substance, designated SCP-4431-D, comprises the spire. Materials such as ice and rock that come into contact with SCP-4431-D are gradually converted into further SCP-4431-D. The means by which this is achieved are unclear, but are presumed to involve alterations to the subatomic structure of contacting materials.
Visual details match those of the soil described in Bannard's journal. Trace amounts of human gene sequences have been found within the compounds.
The excavation of past sites of SCP-4431-A seismic activity is considered a high priority.

Footnotes
1. A large section of East Antarctica, over 1,000km across in diameter at an average elevation of 3,000m.
2. All observed manifestations have occurred in the Antarctic Plateau, though records from non-Foundation research stations describe similar phenomena in other regions of the continent.
3. Said devices record information on atmospheric gas concentrations, the strength of Earth's magnetic field, radiation levels, etc.
4. Radar imaging found no unusual structures within the East Antarctic Ice Sheet, suggesting that the seismic activity source exists within the bedrock under the sheet, which is 3,000m deep in this region.

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