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A neuron stimulated by SCP-001's effects.

Containment Class: Uncontainable

Object Class: Event

Archived Containment Procedures: The origin of SCP-001 is to be determined. The effects of SCP-001 on the cranial ventromedial area are currently being determined. No invasive procedures are to be confirmed without express permission of both the Ethics Committee and the O5 Council.

Updated Containment Procedures: Unnecessary.

Description: SCP-001 is a faster-than-light emission of Cherenkov radiation of unknown extraterrestrial origin that impacted the human populace working in governmental systems, occurring on 2021/05/07. Despite the lack of a medium in which this radiation could travel, it is theorized to have maintained its speed for the entirety of its transmission, and was otherwise undetectable.

Update: SCP-001 is responsible for the discontinuation of numerous Foundation containment efforts, as well as the recent institution of the CYCLE protocol. Refer to your Site Director to determine if your testing cycle has been discontinued.

Long-term effects of SCP-001 are as of yet unknown, though a series of short-term symptoms have been determined:

  • Increased neuroelectric activity.
  • Development of increased neural pathways in the frontal, temporal, and parietal lobes of the brain.
  • Increased presence of astrocytes.
  • increased activity in the ventromedial prefrontal cortex.

Despite this, no adverse effects have been found. These effects increase proportionally dependent on the amount of SCP-001 affected entities that are within a fifty meter radius, and will remain even if this radius is broken. MRI and CT scans are currently being performed to determine any further effects of SCP-001. The origin of SCP-001 is currently being determined, as is the extent of those affected.





SCP-001 was first discovered by SETI satellites located in the western United States. No further transmissions were received, though Foundation agents have ordered a majority of SETI and ESA receptors to focus on the approximate location of SCP-001. SCP-001, at the time, was incapable of being translated to any typical written code or language, though cipher efforts successfully translated SCP-001 to be a rough Russian message in Morse code. The method by which SCP-001's propagator learned either language is unknown. A rough translation is attached below.


The effects of SCP-001 were near immediate. The Veil's integrity remained, due to the otherwise unnoticeable symptoms caused by SCP-001. A set of 33 personnel have volunteered for long-term viewing in a prospective cohort study to determine long-term effects. Upon volunteer request, the study was approved.

Many Foundation hard drives were also cleared of data, though the selection of these hard drives appeared to be random, with no clear pattern in both the researchers targeted as well as the contents of these drives.

The affected entities displayed an arbitrary definition of 'governmental systems' — those working in the systems themselves were affected, as were pollsters, subjects who campaigned or ran for political office, or journalists who have interviewed one of the above categories.

SETI engineers were tasked with locating SCP-001's source guided by Foundation head researchers Inderjit Oakton and Amy Andal under guise of SCP-001 being a radio transmission received from deep space. Following approximately a month of work, the location of SCP-001's source was successfully triangulated.

Researchers Oakton and Andal are to be tapped for future work concerning SCP-001, due to their expertise with transmission-based anomalies as well as a cleared schedule.

So it's gone. Almost all of it. Jesus. And now we've got to put it back, and deal with this kahuna of a thing. You can do it, Amy. But.. I mean, can I? Words're cheap. Setbacks are difficult, I think I speak for everyone when I write that, but there's setbacks and then there's straight-up disgusting amounts of… whatever this is. There's not a good word for it.
The time since then has been strangely free, though not free in a way. I suppose it's nice that everyone seems to be getting along a bit better now. But as idyllic as it is, it bothers me. I can't calculate what is going to occur, and that bothers me so.




Following efforts by SETI engineers, SCP-001's source's approximate position was pinned to be near NGC 7371, located 40 million light-years away in the constellation of Pegasus. The exact location was unable to be determined - a variety of factors were theorized to cause this, including, but not limited to:

  • Retrograde bulge of NGC 7371
  • The range of SCP-001
  • The size of SCP-001's source
  • Interference from nearby pulsaric bodies
  • Red shift indicating SCP-001's source moving away from NGC 7371 and Foundation sensory equipment
  • The source's inability to show up on infrared sensory equipment. The reason for this is currently unknown; it is theorized it may be a dead star or artificial structure.

SCP-001's source was registered on radio equipment; however, background emissions rendered its form similar to an amorphous spheroid. Further imagery is pending and possible invasive exploration attempts are currently being deliberated on.



Average testing output daily, for 6 weeks.

Following reception of SCP-001, initial site productivity sharply increased, more than doubling in the space of two to three weeks. Less interpersonal conflicts were noted on site, and morale was found to have increased as reported by a number of onsite surveys. Collaboration between sites and departments created a rapid shift to communications and travel being necessary.

Following this brief period, Foundation Testing Oversight noticed a severe uptick in the amount of tests spontaneously being cancelled, with no warning or official notice of shutdown given. Interpersonal relations did not decrease in quality amongst lower level researchers; rather, morale was found to have sharply decreased in quality. Head researchers of a number of these cancelled procedures refused to speak with Testing Oversight personnel. Head Researcher Inderjit Oakton responded positively to a request to meet with Testing Oversight personnel to discuss these events.

Interviewer: Head of Testing Oversight and Safety, Dr. Bartholomew Klisch

Interviewee: Head Researcher Inderjit Oakton

Note: Researcher Oakton is currently a Level 4 personnel.


Oakton: Alright, look. I know it's weird, but — people just aren't happy here anymore.

Klisch: You assume they all were in the first place. Look, it's simple, we need you to go back to work.

Oakton: I know, I know. Alright, just, I don't know why or how, but it's like we're thinking more. We just don't want to, Klisch. It's as simple as that.

[Oakton sighs.]

Klisch: Thinking about what?

Oakton: Have I ever told you, or a higher up, about my kids?

Klisch: That's unnecessary information, Inderjit.

Oakton: Why, Bart? Who said?

Klisch: I'm not saying I don't care, but for the sake of what we do here, and for the sake of efficiency, you've got to —

[Oakton taps the table.]

Oakton: My point exactly. How much do you know about us? What kind of man I am? What goes through my head.

Klisch: Well, it's not as if we get a lot of social contact anyways. Purely office work.

Oakton: Then you need to get out more. That's not our fault. But that aside — how much do you know about what we believe in?

Klisch: Well —

Oakton: This is what's frustrating. It's the complete lack of consideration.

Klisch: We've never had complaints filed like this before… It's not like we don't give you amenities. Paid leave, the cafeteria, sick days, birthday cards and a slice of cake.

Oakton: You should still be able to like, tell. The last slice of cake they "sent" was a rotten old thing from Baskin Robbins. I saw the bloody expiration date on the box. Where's the contact? A real frontal lobe to frontal lobe.

[Oakton sighs, removing his glasses and rubbing his temple.]

Oakton: God, this is giving me a headache. Just… listen, alright?

Klisch: We're not your friends, Inderjit.

Oakton: Maybe that's the problem.


Possible connection to SCP-001 activity is currently being explored.

Note: Following commencement of the cohort study, participants, who were all low-level researchers, displayed unacceptable behavior in the testing environment with minor anomalous items. Given the situation, formal reprimands and punishments were withheld, and a log of this behavior was collected below.

Item and Related Experiment Intended Result Actual Result
Item: A primitive arthropod society formed by Dir. Bold's Nylanderia fulva (Crazy ant) farm. Experiments were focused on the manipulation of societal progression within the farm. Restriction of provided materials ensured no instance would produce significantly damaging technology. A natural evolution, and a forced cessation of societal progression at the equivalent of the Classical Antiquity period. A refusal by researchers to eliminate instances displaying excess progression. Instances progressed rapidly towards Dark Ages technology, before the farm was remotely culled.
Item: A dismembered, largely dessicated human arm, capable of movement. It successfully responded to both external stimuli and questions posed to it, suggesting some level of sentience. Experiments were based around limitations of this stimuli and questioning method — specifically, whether the arm would respond to extreme temperature changes. Item was to be placed into a hybrid oven and refrigeration container, and be subjected to a variety of extreme temperatures. Hesitation on the part of the proctoring junior researcher resulted in a switch to an automated testing scheme.
Item: An original Pumbaa costume from the Broadway performances of The Lion King. Wearing a portion of the costume rapidly accelerated bone growth in the corresponding body part. Different sections of the costume would be tested to determine the extent of its increased growth. An unknown party edited original testing plans to involve injured research personnel instead of D-Class personnel. This error was not reported by Testing Oversight immediately. An official inquiry is forthcoming.
Item: A series of interconnected grapevines, which function as a computer with power similar to that of a 2009 Macbook Air, when attached to a monitor. Standard computer activities, such as accessing the internet, playing games, or editing media was to be performed with the item. Following this, its security was to then be tested. Personnel immediately skipped standard activity testing, opting to convert item into a foxhole radio-like object. Use of this item in detection of SCP-001 instances has been approved.

Fuck. Jesus fucking Christ.

I got your email. You're not kidding, huh?

Inderjit, when have I joked with you?


Don't finish that sentence. Don't you dare.

Oh, alright. I'm just— you know. Like it's, oh, I don't know.

Stressed? Anxious? Worried? All of the above?

Yeah. It's just not fair. Shit got, like, ripped away. Blink of an eye. No warning, and it's not goddamn fair.

I know. I am too. Well, I'm feeling the same way, partially. But we've come back from worse. Remember that time with the vending machine and the boss? That was much, much worse.

Heh. Yeah. That was pretty funny, wasn't it?

Truthfully, it was. But we even came back from that. As such, my point is that we have that capability.

You're oddly calm. Angry, but oddly calm. You are aware that neither of us are eidetics, right? And you are aware of what those are?

Oh, I know, I know. But you know how I deal with this sort of thing.

It makes me worry sometimes. You're too calm.

You know I've got to deal with that first. You fret about everything. Sometimes —

Sometimes too much. I find the little cracks in everything, worm my little grubby hands into 'em. I know, Amy. I know. But it'll be alright.

You always say that. What makes you say that you're sure of that now?

You know that's a question I can't answer. That grimy feeling in my stomach never really leaves. But work and other… things make me forget. Nullify it for a little bit, like a real strong chug of Pepto. I know you know what I'm talking about.

Please… refrain from that. You've got research to do.

Oi. Don't make those eyes at me. Idiot. And it's our research, mind you. And the same way we've always done it. Put a little bit of hard work into it. Blood, sweat, and tears. That sort of thing.

How else?

Hadh hogaye. I mean, I'm not sure what you want me to say.

You always were terrible at picking up rhetorical questions, Indy.

That's not my fault!

Hey, hey. Focus. Sentiment time is over.

Yeah, I guess. I don't know. Talking about it is a sort of Pepto.

I know, I know. But we've got important things to do. You've got to focus.

I can't do this. At least, I don't think I can. What if it doesn't work out? If something stops us? If we can't remember everything? If —

Hey, Inderjit?


Kindly shut up. Start work on relocating that signal. Not the… large one, but the one from Draco. That'll get your mind off stuff.


You make it hard to like you with how insufferable you are sometimes.

Oh, but what are friends for?


The internal cohort study concluded after a holding period of 20 days, performed by the Foundation Internal Investigation Unit.1 A tentative abstract is attached below.

Foundation personnel utilized an internal population-based study to determine the long-term effects of exposure to SCP-001. Overall, 32 low-level researchers and 28 matched controls2 were identified. On average, those exposed to SCP-001 had a 2.14 times higher risk of developing severe personality alterations.

Personality alterations included developing a tendency to disobey orders, standoffishness, increased altriusm, and pacifistic tendencies when viewing operations and testing environments. Risk of developing and severity of these changes increased with rank in Foundation hierarchy.

Any member ranking above Testing Oversight currently is not known to display symptoms of SCP-001 exposure. A delayed reaction is currently being looked into. Processes to determine if any physical alterations were caused has been continuously denied by Oversight orders for arbitrary reasons. Bypass of these orders by means of O5 Command permission is being considered.

Current orders have placed SCP-001 symptom determination to be top priority, by any ethical means.


Immediately following conclusion of the cohort study, all Foundation sensors monitoring SCP-001's supposed position were found to contain a number of corrupted image files, from an unknown source. Given the degree of corruption, the files are likely to have been transferred in a haphazard, rushed manner.


Current cryptography workspace. Key is CRYPTII.

Following repeated attempts to render the image properly, the file was found to have an incorrect file type; converting it to a .txt file produced multiple series of characters. The resulting text could be rearranged into labeled series of notes for four different instruments, producing the following short piece of music.

Due to the nature of SCP-001, it is unknown as to how image files were manipulated and placed onto Foundation equipment, and as to how the origin of this file had knowledge of earthly instruments.

A series of stray characters were also found separated from the main body of text in each file, attached below. Cryptography efforts to determine the meaning of these characters is currently underway.

kyjuvagh xi xqs zko gybft
o xgke cku ca poko nwga f pkbb srl
shmm kg nka ftt’a kssj ztjenuxp prq ws
O xgke cku ca poko nwga F pkbb srl
cku zvz yqrll, srl qfm vmbauda xkaykan fi,
tv U'w xtj tlfs iwga F'w ledtn ysfm.
lah yqhm ivbddlg, lah aqaaw ebenkuc mz
hqcrb k ulft wtq dvfs nwgk f nsjais
iat wtq, dn qdabf, dn lqzykkr, mk roknyt
U itqww kdjl fbts te gi x ysfe ca jva
ohzj tykaju K sv, U le maa tdki
zfw F nqbb jr wk ug xgbe qdf wayd.
U buvj vbdt wtq av tnomy rk ws nwi
tbws izs B wk cej.
K'd okt nwi edmt idju zkffv.
tre tnm fate xskjjbkap, xtj ays mqzvadmt.
ql erqlm koi hoepmzv
B'h dszqahx onmm K tcsqc.
D czol ww xamwm wmztbogpmvcwn
xsyzqtd cku xkwa dsbbv mdql nwid.
F nufb eubt U qbgk, F qw xbxzq zuzf
gkw U oeovj kqf nta dlen.
o wgod dkn z fre tk eipzq
U nkqi odfc jdjaas qn zfw
bpp o ngk vzzmo kt hc peqi
B'h dkn cdz ismn
gqa f qw emfj hs
u kf gvbis mqimn duawj
b xss wtq zssfw xdzqs
ux bxzqc xety, zssfw zva
dhszl hbdes ei mhxue o xvbes
me d jmn wc rbca ek wkri jva povjzo
u tzl mj ismn ca dbis wtq udqf
ql igkkfnv gmd zfudjwdmm, o'f gkgukuv gkw okzokzw
xan vjbap u idfw okt sjka
xudyb K xh munckkr nszb, bbxqrlbgmfdg.
O uak’e nqbb mhpn te pkod cku
D bro’t nkqi dlen.
Kyf B pqd eipzq um ql frss.

Sometimes it's hard not to worry. Stuff doesn't always fall through the cracks properly. And from there, shit just gets really, really muddled.
Because sometimes it's just unexplainable. And you get so, so confused. About what you feel. And about how you are. Things like that.
You get used to hurt. And then you end up just… not being able to tell things apart. Question everything. Cycles upon cycles, endlessly wondering why certain things may have occurred. Then possibilities behind possibilities. Going deep, and deep, and deeper.
I suppose I'm somewhat worried. I'm stressed and things like that nearly 100 percent of the time, and I guess I'm getting used to that. And I just can't keep doing that. It's contradictory I know. Hypocritical. Instead of looking for solace, there's a hornet's nest in my head. And I run for this insect's cacophony because it reminds me that what I know is true. I find solace in the pain and the buzzes and I swear I'm a good man. I toss myself in these scenarios, wondering what to say when, if it's the right moment to ask, and it never is.
So why? Why does this happen to me? Setbacks are difficult, but the setbacks I imagine might come because of it are worse. And even if they haven't come to pass, they still… stop me. From doing things…y'know?


Carlyle: Alright, hello everyone.

O5-5: Hello, Director Carlyle. Have you prepared the relevant information?

Carlyle: Yes, though forgive me if there happen to be any minor mistakes. Spelling, grammar, that sort of thing. I had to rework it just last night after some new… developments.

O5-10: We have.. some leniency. Not much, our patience is wearing thin.

O5-8: Lighten up. These are stressful times for us all.

Carlyle: On that note, O5-8, I do want to mention that the strikes have… lightened up. Coincidentally, that is what the first slide here's about.

O5-9: Lovely. Let's see.

Carlyle: Give me just a second.

O5-10: Hur—

O5-8: Of course.

Carlyle: As we can see based on this chart, onsite conflicts that have developed into strikes have effectively ceased, except for at the smallest locations, staff-wise. Site-102, preliminary locations, that sort of thing. The reasoning for this is a bit disconcerting to you, though fairly self explanatory for me.

O5-2: Elaborate.

Carlyle: By definition, a strike involves the conflict of two or more parties in order to force a concession of some sort, yes?

O5-10: We'd stand in agreement, yes. What's the point?

O5-2: Though avoid the condescension.

O5-8: Lighten up, you two.

Carlyle: Er, yes. Apologies. As I was saying, that is how a strike functions. Interestingly enough, following repeated meetings with leaders of onsite strikes, site directors have unanimously agreed to demands.

O5-10: Hm.

O5-1: May I request an… example of some of the discussion topics for these meetings?

Carlyle: Of course. It's a bit of a pleasant accident, but the discussion topics were relatively small talk. Nothing substantial. It was strange, though after only a few repeated visits, my contact had told me that site directors simply conceded. Before I continue, I must know if you're aware of what occurred after.

O5-2: The email?

Carlyle: Yes, the email.

O5-10: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

O5-2: I got it only a few hours ago. I intended for it to be the initial discussion topic, as I saw Director Carlyle here not needing to revise their presentation, which mind you, was completely out of left field.

O5-10: But you didn't see it appropriate to send it to the rest of us at all?

O5-2: Given the meeting's proximity to the time I'd received it, I saw it as redundant. Better to avoid preconceptions and misinterpretations, and instead… experience it together.

O5-13: Let's avoid the unnecessary Kumbayah nonsense. It was a mistake. That is all.

O5-12: Need we remind you, O5-10, of the many, many snafus you've caused this council, but we've forgiven every time?

O5-10: Fine.

O5-11: We were lenient for those. Best be grateful.

O5-2: As I was saying, given that it is only me, I see it best to allow the kind director to explain its contents.

O5-13: I move to not let Director Carlyle here spend their time watching us fight like two hives of wasps.

Carlyle: As I was saying, it's nigh impossible to call this anything but… coincidence. All site directors collaborated on an email explaining that they fully supported any and all efforts site personnel had, and were officially petitioning you all.

O5-7: As in, the Council?

Carlyle: And Ethcom.

O5-11: Jesus. And how's Ethcom—

Carlyle: They're finalizing decisions right now.

O5-10: You've got to be kidding me. How did we let this happen?

O5-8: Perhaps, my colleagues, we should look at this in a different way? It's not… too terrible.

O5-6: How so?

O5-3: If I can grasp what 8's… suggesting, it's not so bad, is it? Productivity in sites must certainly be a bit more improved. Let Carlyle finish.

Carlyle: That'll be near the end, O5-3. Allow me to continue. Looking at the next couple of slides, I believe we're barking up the wrong tree when it concerns increased neural activity.

O5-3: It's all we've got.

Carlyle: It's still a lost cause. In my honest opinion, focusing resources and drilling Oakton and Andal to continue to locate its source will be significantly more useful.

O5-1: Some of us already have placed that into motion. We've cleared their schedule some.

O5-7: An action, over which—

O5-8: Some of us are regretting.

O5-13: Before it gets more heated, have you any suggestions, Director Carlyle?

Carlyle: I do. Tentatively, more research and… exploration is necessary to determine SCP-001's source, if that makes sense. Imagery is nothing compared to an in-person approach.

O5-8: Understood. Well, thank you for the presentation.

O5-13: If you could send us the slides for future viewing, that would be most helpful.

Carlyle: Of course. I hope my presence here was somewhat eye opening.


Note: The following video was sent by Director Amadou Carlyle to the O5 Council, with a small note stating 'You may find this interesting.'


[Two figures in black robes are talking. The view is from a bird's eye perspective.]

Unknown: [garbled] Look, the rest would kill me if they knew I was here, Librarian.

Librarian: This is true. We also know that these are special circumstances affecting you. You wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.

Unknown: This is true. In all honestly, I think the Foundation'll be a bit more… in the good graces of the Library.

Librarian: Good. Do you have the jailed?

Unknown: We do. The first few are ready.

Librarian: Good. Where are they?

Unknown: Coming in just about… three, two, one.

[A small 'pop' is heard, and four dog kennels appear. Their contents are obscured.]

Librarian: Lovely, lovely. They are unlocked?

Unknown: They are.

Librarian: Then the deal is met. Expect communication soon, friend of the Library. We will not hesitate to assist in a debt repaid.

Unknown: Thank you for your understanding and cooperation. Motions for protection of the Hand will be taken. Be talking to you soon.





What is that now, seventeen?

Yeah, just about. Can't remember.

Ugh. Indy, how many times are we going to have to run through this?

As many times as we need.

I'm a bit worried, truth be told.

It'll be alright.

No, no, not about the work. That's quite minuscule.

Then what about?

Me. My health, with regards to the mental aspect of it. Ever since the riots broke out, and we've been moved here, it's just been so stressful.

I get it. Hey, the site'll be clear soon.

But it doesn't stop there. I mean, what about the rest of the world? All the bureaucratic bullshit's getting torn down. God, this country doesn't even have a leader right now.

To be honest, I'm proud to see democracy at work, but I digress.

You always had a flair for the political.

Oh, hush.

Heh. But yeah, it's just— I don't know.

I can't know if you don't know.

I know that. But god, I'm worried. I'm so fucking worried.

I mean, hey. Look. Everyone's in some problem right now, but we're getting through it. Everyone's trying their best.

But I'm not everyone.

But I think you can handle it.

What makes you think that? Cause I sure as hell don't feel like I can.

But you have before..

Have I?



Every single day since the thing hit. We've been working 10, 12, 14 hour days for the past four weeks, just to remake our work. You've turned down coffee every single time.

Its taste isn't good, Indy.

I know, I know, I know. But my point stands. You've… sorta permanently fucked up your sleep schedule cause of it.

I guess that's, well, true.

And my point is that you don't… relax. Your schedule is tough, I know, but you never seem to stop, slow down, and just indulge.

Haha, in what?

What do you find relaxing, even?

Well. Music. Music, reading, painting.

So why don't you do some of that? I'll take over for a little.

You sure you'll be able to handle it?


Don't get distracted.

Oh posh. My focus problems won't dare come out here.

That's not the first time you've said that.

Yeah, and you're the Queen of England.

Oh, shut up Indy.

As you wish, your majesty.

I wasn't joking.

As you wish, your majesty.

It's not funny!

Then why're you smiling that stupidly sweet grin of yours?

Alright, alright. It's a little funny. But don't pull that shit again. I will slap you.

Oh, alright.

Your majesty.

Ow! That's gonna ache in the morning.

Bold to assume you'll have time to sleep.

Lead Foundation researchers Inderjit Oakton and Amy Andal successfully pinpointed the exact source of SCP-001, tentatively designated SCP-001-1. Attempts to render SCP-001-1's external appearance on camera were unsuccessful, due to latent abilities that caused imagery or media featuring SCP-001-1 to entirely prevent SCP-001-1 from being viewed via localized rendering error.

The following transmission was later received and traced to SCP-001-1, confirming it as the source of previous transmissions.


Spectrogram created by the received transmission.

Spectrogram analysis revealed the following photograph, showing coherent phrases in Russian that roughly translate to the following:

There is no answer. I should have known that my desires would not happen immediately.

Possible Russian governmental connections are being explored, though preliminary research into GRU-P casefiles has returned no significant results.

Due to cooperation between GoI-α-019 (Serpent's Hand) and the Foundation, books containing knowledge of interstellar travel via localized rifts were allowed to be removed, on contingency of later being returned. Tentative blueprints for an unmanned vehicle are under development.

Unmanned Vehicle ASTRAIOS was successfully created after two weeks of work, via modification to deepspace probes already in use by the Foundation. U.V. ASTRAIOS is outfitted with the following modifications to deepspace probes in order to make its use as an automated interstellar exploration device successful:

  • AIDDA, or Automated Imminent Danger Detection Array
  • Environmental equipment, including but not limited to, a high definition 270 degree camera array, microphone, seismograph, hygrometer, Hume detection array, thermographic capabilities, and thermometers.
  • Hull capable of withstanding interstellar temperature extremes.
  • A miniature Scranton Reality Anchor (S.R. Hook).
  • Minor levitation capabilities alongside a multidirectional wheeled chassis, giving a top speed of roughly 50 km/h.
  • Clawed apparatus for item retrieval, and 20L sorted receptacle for stored items.

Attached is a transcript of U.V. ASTRAIOS' first exploration of SCP-001-1.

An interspatial rift is created within Testing Room 22-B, which is vacuum sealed. The rift leads to an unknown room within SCP-001-1, confirming that SCP-001-1 is at least partly artificially constructed. This room, and the entirety of SCP-001-1's structure is found to contain sufficient levels of oxygen to sustain life, and the climate within SCP-001-1 is temperate.


Clip of U.V. ASTRAIOS' transmission.

ASTRAIOS is in is a tunnel, creating a complete circle around a central point. The media-affecting properties appear to extend to the internal environment of SCP-001-1, though the severity is significantly decreased. It is unclear if this is due to the Scranton Reality Hook affixed to ASTRAIOS, or another factor. ASTRAIOS continues down this tunnel for 5 minutes, approaching a nearby hallway. The door to this hallway is locked, though a dried liquid is under it, flowing outwards. ASTRAIOS' claw is used to collect some of the liquid. Later chemical analysis reveals it to be a mixture of blood and gunpowder.

ASTRAIOS continues forward, successfully opening a number of other doors within the hallway. These appear to be resting areas for an unknown crew, outfitted with tables, lamps, beds, and dressers. The beds all have a thick layer of dust on them, and all of the beds are fit to standard human sizes. A sample from the bedding on these beds dates to nearly 3,000 years old. The lamps appear significantly more recent; around 70 years old.

The next door in the hallway is labelled "Common Room," in Russian. A variety of board games are contained in small, square shelves placed against the back wall of the room. Most appear to date to the early 1930s, though boards for games such as Ashtapada and Dasapada are present as well. A series of ritualistic markings are on the floor; analysis reveals these to be a court for parihara-patham.3

The next door, labelled "Historian's Room" in Sanskrit4, cannot be opened.


Unknown power source.

ASTRAIOS continues down the hallway and enters the last door, labelled "Engine Room." Upon entry an increasingly unstable ionic power source is revealed; it is functioning via unknown means. Focusing on this source overheats ASTRAIOS, causing transmission errors. A series of unmarked levers, buttons, and disks can be seen on the opposite wall, presumably controls for the room. Due to safety concerns, these are not touched.

Exiting this hallway, ASTRAIOS continues to the next. The rooms in this hallway appear to function as controls for SCP-001-1 in its entirety. The first, labelled 'Imagery,' is an immeasurably tall, but tight room that contains 6 monitors viewing SCP-001-1's surroundings. One is trained on ASTRAIOS's entry rift, labelled 'OUTSIDE,' while another is trained on a large sail-like construction on what is presumably the front of SCP-001-1, labelled 'LOCOMOTION'. The rest are trained on a nearby neutron star, Kappa Pegasi, with no label. The power source for these monitors is unclear, though is presumed to be solar or ionic in nature. The next door only contains a single porthole looking outwards. The view from the porthole appears to change to an inward view of unknown areas in SCP-001-1 when a dial next to it is turned.


View from the porthole.

The final door, labelled 'Control Room,' contains a large control panel connected to a large computer monitor, both of which bear minor resemblances to a BESK computer's parts. Attempting to initiate startup on this computer causes the monitor to request a 'bodily heat scan.' This fails and produces an error screen.

The next hallway is labelled 'Resource Center.' This consists of a series of miniaturized biospheres containing a variety of edible crops typically grown on Earth. The crops are entirely overgrown, and appear to be autonomously watered and fertilized through a composting system.

The final hallway leads to a series of three vacuum chambers, all of which lead outside SCP-001-1's constraints. These chambers measure, on average, 200 by 300 meters, the largest rooms in the entirety of SCP-001-1. One is empty, though the other two contain debris from unknown spacecraft. The first displays insignia similar to the Soviet flag's hammer and sickle symbol, and is a series of discarded engine boosters from a rocket similar in size to the Soyuz spacecraft. Of note is the addition of pages from a book similar to one lent to the Foundation by the Serpent's Hand, along with a page entirely handwritten in Russian.


A page from the retrieved book.

The other debris has Sanskrit script stenciled onto it, and appears to be an advanced form of interstellar spacecraft for the time samples were dated to be from, roughly 100 BCE. Most of the debris is heavily corroded or destroyed, and a small book detailing the history of Bhadrabahu, a Jain acharya.

ASTRAIOS has successfully navigated the entirety of SCP-001-1 at this point in time, and autonomously returns to Testing Room 22-B. No heat signatures or trace of living organisms were detectable onboard SCP-001-1. For this reason, as well as portions of SCP-001-1 that were inaccessible to autonomous vehicles such as ASTRAIOS, manned exploration is suggested.

Attached is a translated version of the page acquired in SCP-001-1's 'port area.'

Unknown Date, Unknown Time

To my Irina, my Nikolai, and my Anna.

We have lost hope. There is no chance of us returning. In truth, I do not know why I write this letter. It is rather pointless to do so. It is not as if it will come home.

When we were told we were going to space, I found it to be a lovely endeavor. I saw no reason as to why we should not trust the government. The craft, although haphazard, appeared safe. Instead, they have taken me worlds away. Dmitri, Andrei, and I are now very, very far. Dmitri passed away two nights ago. Andrei three nights before that. Both took their own lives.

We are in a machine, a very large one, much larger than that Ford's cars, and it appears to travel. The ghost of the ship is a very, very kind one. It has grown us our favorite foods. We are not its first visitors, though I hope we are its last. Despite all its hospitality, there is only so much broken communication we can perform.

I have read all the books I have brought up. I am largely bored most days now. The ghost has tried to clean, but I can still see their bodies in the picture windows that are in the room. The ghost cannot lock that knowledge away from me. Speaking of knowledge here, it turns out that the men of ages past arrived here as well. Given the style of script, I would put them as being the Hindoos the British speak of. It is wondrous, what they accomplished thousands of years before us. That is not to say this place is idyllic. I have discovered why the government is now in power. I blame this place.

Do not come here. It changes a man drastically. Do not listen to what they say about what happened to me. I did not die in any crash.

When you look at the stars from behind the maple and oak trees, with the cries of the owls, doves, and hawks echoing through the night, I will be looking back at you, ever so lovingly. Do not forget about me. I miss you with all my heart.

I am writing this page, and I will leave it here along with the previous guests of this place. Then, I will go to the place the ghost cannot enter, the holy place of this ship, and I will then head to the stars.
Maksim, your loving father and husband


Following unmanned visits to SCP-001-1, a blueprint for F.I.S. Rory, an interstellar space capsule was drawn up. Construction of Rory is to begin as soon as possible, and a possible course is to be established. Attached is a directive from Foundation Fabrication managers to lower-level personnel.


Schematics for F.I.S. Rory.

F.I.S. Rory is to be built with the vacuum of space in mind. Though the travel from the rift to SCP-001-1 must be shortened, it will be considerably longer as it will not be simply appearing within SCP-001-1 as ASTRAIOS could. It will be far larger than that, and directly transporting Agent Drei to SCP-001-1 is far, far too risky.

The current specifications necessary are as follows:

  • Enough supplies to last three weeks, the current mission length.
  • Emergency oxygen within, if SCP-001-1 is now inhospitable.
  • Onboard imagery systems and up-to-date navigational abilities. This may prove difficult, as the creation of a radar-like system is necessary in the vacuum of space.
  • An autopilot onboard.
  • Sufficient propulsion systems in the case of SCP-001-1 becoming hostile.
  • Comfortable living arrangements for Agent Drei.
  • Fuel for OC-class craft.

Planned trajectory.

This list will expand, mind you. Don't stay on your asses for too long, please. This is of utmost importance. Test launches have proven favorable, and we're not pressed for time due to planetary alignment.

Given the size of F.I.S. Rory, it will be delivered via Orbital Carrier Parahelion to its detachment position, which will then enter a holding pattern around Kappa Pegasi and its nearby exoplanet. A current trajectory is attached. Due to this, Rory will need to bring extra fuel, as well as materials that nullify the possible radiation being tossed out of Kappa.

Need I say it again, or need not, this is of utmost importance. Do not disappoint me. A man's life is at stake here.

You actually did it. You got it framed.

An official commendation deserves this much splendor, at the least.

Well, yeah. It does appear a little off though.

No, no. Look at the level.

Indy, the bubble's not in the marks.

There's three goddamn bubbles, Amy.

Look at the one in the middle.

Oh. Lemme fix that.

Better. But, er, now it's going the other way.


You didn't get one with a stand, did you?

No. This one was on sale.

You've always been stingy.

I prefer financially minded.

It wouldn't kill you to be more adventurous once in awhile with your prices, you know.

We've been decoding alien transmissions for the past whatever, Amy. I think my work is adventure enough.

Is it really?

I mean, I'm not an MTF member, but my life still feels pretty great. Though, right now, I could go for a nap.

Strike 'right now,' you mean always.

Takes one to know one.

I didn't even call you a noun.


Speaking of adventure, word on the street is that they're bringing Elijah back.

Which one?


I thought he went into retirement, after the whole, you know.

He's still their best.

And he agreed?

I suppose he's been lonely after the accident. Needed some adventure.

I'm both extremely jealous and extremely empathetic to his plight.

Of course you are. But I can't help but wonder what he's getting into. You saw the—

Stuff from the rover? Yeah. Some weird fucking shit.

Those men… he'll come back, right?

I know that they wouldn't let him not come back.

That's reassuring.

It's what I do best.

I haven't seen him around lately. I thought they let him stay on site.

Transferred a month back or so, to another site 'bout two hours away. He hasn't come into work after the accident.

It seems cruel, I know. But you know he's the best for the job.

Cause no one's left but him? I mean sure, but—

But it's… it's not right. There's got to be a reason.

Can't help but feel like there's something off.

Welp, back to work.

Yeah. Gotta figure out where the damn thing is now. Hopefully this isn't a lamb to the slaughter type deal.

Communications with SCP-001-1


F.I.S. Rory's containment capsule detaching from detaching from Orbital Carrier PARAHELION.

At this time, Agent Drei successfully maneuvered F.I.S. Rory to SCP-001-1's entry port after detachment from Orbital Carrier Parahelion by an exoplanet located near Kappa Pegasi, which moved to its holding pattern. F.I.S. Rory was then maneuvered towards SCP-001-1. Automatic audio and video recording equipment switched on once F.I.S. Rory was out of Foundation communication capabilities. The following files were reviewed upon Agent Drei's return.



View from F.I.S. Rory's onboard camera.

Drei: Well, we're almost here. It's been a hot minute since I've been on the job, but, hey. What the hell am I doing here, but fuck it? Fuck it.

[Drei continues forward until SCP-001-1 comes into view.]

Drei: That's… a thing. Certainly. S'all I can say. Weird as hell, though… not too weird? I guess I've been desensitized over the years. Elliot would love to see this.

[Drei sighs.]

Drei: I guess at the same time, it's better. No one to worry 'bout me now.


Floorplan of SCP-001-1.

[Drei examines the floorplan of SCP-001-1 for approximately 30 minutes while F.I.S. Rory's onboard autopilot navigates towards SCP-001-1. He stops once SCP-001-1 enters SCP-001-1's empty 'port.' The chamber is then oxygenated. Sensors detect the surrounding chamber to leave its vacuum state and oxygenate to a hospitable level.]

Drei: God, this is dark as hell.

[Drei enters the main body of SCP-001-1.]

Drei: Well, we're here. Now time to… look around, I guess. Was it three turns? Third hallway? This place is dark as hell.

[Drei wanders around SCP-001-1 for 10 minutes, eventually coming to the main control panel. As Drei is examining the control panel of SCP-001-1, it speaks.]

001-1: I have detected your heat signature. Hello, little one. I have not seen people like you in quite awhile.

[Drei coughs.]

Drei: You, er, speak English? A tad unbelievable, but I've seen things. This is… somewhat of a Tuesday, actually.


SCP-001-1's control panel.

001-1: That I do. I have picked it up from a variety of sources that previous travelers had brought on board here. A simple scan allowed me to determine the uses and meanings of a number of your words, which I crosschecked to videos and audio also present on the aforementioned sources. Years of doing this has permitted me to establish lingual similarity with you today.

[Assorted discs and gears near the control panel of SCP-001-1 accelerate then decelerate repeatedly to produce a whir with an intonation similar to a laugh.]

Drei: I see. That's pretty nifty.

001-1: From context clues, I take that to mean 'cool,' 'nice,' or 'sweet.'

[Drei walks around the control room, gesturing towards the panel as he talks.]

Drei: Heh. You'd be correct. Anyways, it'd be pretty nifty to have you answer some questions.

001-1: Is this an interrogation of sorts?

Drei: No, no. Not at all. Think of it like some, er, entertainment. While I'm here, I'll tell you about where I'm from, and you tell me things about you. Like friends.

001-1: Friends. It has been awhile since I have had those. The last were the men who spoke of the cosmonaut program. That was some time ago. It's hard to tell.

Drei: It would've been awhile ago, if I do know what you're talking about.

001-1: All the more reason for us to be friends. Make yourself comfortable. I'll do my best to assist.

[A chair, showing signs of disrepair, is produced from the opposite wall. Drei takes a seat.]

Drei: If you don't mind, where are you from?

001-1: I couldn't tell you. Where are we all from? Stars? I cannot pinpoint my maker if that's what you ask. But being made from stellar material sounds like a lovely thing.

Drei: Peculiar. How long have you been around?

001-1: Millennia. Eons. Galaxies have died. I have sheltered my occupants against the glow from a supernova, on many occasions. Many a comet have passed me by. I have seen civilizations been destroyed, and born again.

Drei: Like ours?

001-1: I will need some clarification.

Drei: Earth?

001-1: Ah. The home of the little cosmonauts. They were quite a talkative, but grumpy bunch. The one with the golden tooth, such a testy, testy man. Got himself killed, you know? Before the others did it too. And Dmi—

Drei: Stay on topic, please.


Image displayed while SCP-001-1 is discussing the 'cosmonauts.'

[Drei coughs.]

001-1: Excuse my excitement. Anyways, yes. That would be the place. I did nothing.

Drei: Is that true?

001-1: Yes.

Drei: Are you aware of a signal that passed by this sector some time ago?

001-1: I am, small one.

Drei: Was that you?

001-1: The answer is a resounding no.

Drei: Fine then. Have you any idea of what may have done it?

001-1: I may.

Drei: Tell me about it.

001-1: If I do, it may disappear.

Drei: I can wait. I've got supplies for nearly two weeks, 001-1.

001-1: "Oh oh one one." Interesting name. Dmitri called me "walnut," you know—

Drei: If you're not going to answer my questions, then please be quiet.

001-1: Fine.

Drei: You are very talkative, you know.

001-1: I am aware. It may seem that way, but when given a brief spark, even the smallest of wicks bursts into flame, does it not?

Drei: Stop speaking in poetry.

001-1: You see, Andrei, you would not know him, brought up a number of novels by that poet Whitman. It will be hard to dissociate that from my lingual drives. In truth, this is my first time speaking your language. I've written quite a bit.

[Drei sighs.]

Drei: Ugh. Alright then, just… be clear.

001-1: My cloaking sensors have failed — this is why you have been able to detect me.

Drei: It's a figure of speech.

001-1: Which is meaning?

Drei: Meaning nothing. Forget it.

001-1: I do not forget. Information collection is what I was built for.

Drei: Collection from what?

001-1: My job is to observe. I will do so until I fail. I observe the stars, I observe the moons, I observe the countless little planets that things like you grow on, small one. I observe them all. Or rather, I did.

[SCP-001's fans in the far right corner slow down, producing a sound similar to a sigh.]

001-1: Even gargantuan machines like me, the pride and joy of the people who constructed me, are doomed to fail. Everything has an end. Everything has a beginning. I am fully believing the former, though I cannot say I believe the latter.

Drei: You're a real buzzkill, you know that? I've seen cats with a better attitude than you.

001-1: Then good for them.

Drei: I hate cats, you see. They also seem to hate many, many things. Always mucking about in the house, being a general nuisance.

001-1: Then I wish the force of a thousand imploding suns onto every measurement indeterminable of their frame.

Drei: Ah, you get me.



[Drei's camera is switched on automatically due to disruption sensors detecting an excessively loud noise. Drei awakens, as the sound of an antique bell and hammer alarm clock can be heard.]

001-1: Upwards and at them. Good new cycle, Drei.

Drei: How long'd I sleep?

001-1: Approximately 10 hours, according to the little timekeeper on your wrist.

Drei: Fuck you.

001-1: That is impossible.

Drei: It's a figu—

001-1: Figure of speech, yes. So it is nothing. Understood.

Drei: But damn your infernally comfortable resting area. Two days now, two days!

001-1: So you'd prefer something more uncomfortable?

[Drei shakes his head, stammering.]

Drei: No, no, just— god you're like my kids.

001-1: I understand what you tell me.

Drei: Good. Then stick it in that bucket you've got for a brain.

001-1: Alright.

Drei: No response?

001-1: I don't exactly know what my brain is. Thus, it is wholly a possibility.

Drei: Fucking hell.

001-1: Small one?

Drei: Yes?

001-1: I have a question.

Drei: Ask away.

001-1: How is the place down there? You know, Earth?

[Drei can be heard taking a sharp breath, presumably wincing.]

Drei: We're… adjusting.

001-1: That is a rather ambiguous answer.

Drei: It could be. Take it how you want.

001-1: Might you be more specific?

Drei: Fine, fine, I'll humor you. Everything's getting uprooted.

[Drei uncorks a bottle, which appears to be a bottle of Lagavulin 16 year single malt whisky.]

001-1: You brought that on board?

Drei: Oh posh, it's not like you can have any.

001-1: Fair.

Drei: Anyways, let us celebrate. But also not. Because you've done good, but a lot of bad. Crime's down quite a bit, what with the sheer amount of criminals you've managed to… change. However, so many systems are literally getting torn down. Loads of cops out of a job. People striking. Et cetera et cetera. It's a bit of a tossup, y'know. The people you affected just miraculously managed to be the ones in power.

001-1: I do believe that may be unintentional. It is simply how I was programmed — in truth, my builders, from what I can recall, were quite the anarchists. It's why they came up here at all. But I am digressing. Society as a whole?

Drei: They are… repairing.

001-1: Lovely.

Drei: Why are you so concerned?

001-1: It's the first new topic in ages. It helps me take my… processing system off of other things. And what a lovely story it is.

Drei: To be fair, I don't entirely know what's what. I've been up here for a bit, remember?

001-1: I recall, Drei, and I do cherish each of our moments together as much as I can over the past week. I have, well, admittedly not much in the way of emotional capacity. But I assure you that I do.

Drei: Well, thank you. Not many have said that before. Not any, really.

001-1: Then let me be the first. [SCP-001-1 pauses.] Do tell, what is life like down there? I have experienced it in simulations I have run in years past, but I wish to know.

Drei: It's, well, human. You live, you laugh, you eat, you sleep, you love. Normal stuff. I can't quite really… encapsulate the human experience like that. It is difficult to put into words.

001-1: I see. I have a query.

Drei: Do tell, 001-1.

001-1: Why?

[Drei sniffs.]

Drei: Why what?

001-1: Why do you do such things? I've learned in my millennia spent orbiting this star… on the brink of death, both it and I, and I see no point. I have no capacity for emotion, no ability to build a friendship. There is no one to talk to.

Drei: If you put it like that, you depressingly pessimistic shit ship, then I can say I do it because I can. There is no other reason.

001-1: Query; what benefit does that provide?

Drei: Benefit? What do you mean, benefit?

001-1: In what regard to that topic do you gain? Because you can?

Drei: Well, I don't.

001-1: Then, well, why?

Drei: Because if I didn't, then I guess. Well, I guess it'd be rather pointless. I help people, and people help me, and that makes it worth doing.

001-1: That is an understandable answer. To have the other.

Drei: Yes. To have the other.



001-1: Drei?

Drei: Yes?

001-1: I am scared.

Drei: You sound a lot like my kids.

[Drei sniffs again, briefly raising a hand to his left eye.]

001-1: Tell me about them. Perhaps it will get my computational systems off of this.

Drei: They, well, they're kids. Little snotty things. Hard not to love them.

001-1: And I presume you gave birth to them?

Drei: In the genetic sense, yes. In the physical sense, what the fuck is wrong with you, you perverted bucket of bolts?

001-1: Fallacy. I cannot be a pervert as I have no desires. I am artificial, need I remind you.

Drei: Yeah yeah, say what you want. I know what you are, you… thing.

001-1: Oh, do shut it.

Drei: You're learning from me already.

001-1: It is called observation, dear Drei.

Drei: Sarcasm too. You learn quick.

001-1: Kids. Tell me, if you would be so kind.

Drei: Ah. Yeah, lovely little things. Annoying, but well worth the trouble. I wonder how they're doing. If they could see me up here, it'd be so fucking crazy.

001-1: And you are not annoyed by them?

Drei: Oh, god, where did you get that idea? Hardly not, though it's much more quiet when they're not around.

001-1: But you still love them?

Drei: I still do, yes. What do you know about such things?

001-1: Maksim had small children, you see. He would talk to me about them. I could not tell this at the time, and I could only understand bits and pieces; I had just started to break Russian, but it was enough. Even if I could not, I could see he was quite drawn to them, for one reason or another. He was very, very emotional. As a matter of fact, he was the last to go. Spent his time weeping, and resigned himself to his fate. He died in the resting quarters, you know.

Drei: Aw. That's quite sad. But er, you're making me sleep in a… coffin.

001-1: I disposed of his body.

Drei: But a dead person was still in there at one point or another. You see, so it was a coffin, and like my uncle used to say, once a coffin, always a coffin.

001-1: Your uncle never said that.

Drei: How do you know?

001-1: It is strangely specific.

Drei: My uncle was an undertaker.

001-1: Oh. Awfully appropriate then.

Drei: It's why I hate… dead things.

001-1: Which is rather logical. Drei?

Drei: Yes?

001-1: I have made something which you may find particularly interesting. It is only a small video consisting of things which you have brought on board —

[Drei stutters.]

Drei: D-D-D-Did— did you look at my phone?

001-1: I assure you I know nothing. You did however, plug it into a wall nearby.

Drei: Motherfucker.

001-1: As I was saying. It is a thank you, and a wish to someone. I wish for you to watch it, and to save it. I may require further actions with it at a later date, but at the time, I simply request your thoughts.

Drei: I can do that.

[The video is played on a large screen in the center of the room. The video could not be saved; audio from it is attached below. The video itself is a series of still images set to audio, which appears to be a song similar to previously received transmissions.]

Drei: It is nice. Certainly made with a lot of care.

001-1: Thank you. Admittedly, I am a bit worried. But, it is not for the sake of trying.

Drei: That it is.

[The two sit in silence.]

Drei: Why exactly were you scared?

001-1: This may sound strange coming from a spacefaring module such as I, who was made to explore, but I am afraid of the unknown.

Drei: But what, of the unknown?

001-1: What it may say. I am afraid of asking it.

Drei: What what may say?

001-1: You have seen a star some ways away, yes?

Drei: I have, yes. But it's—

001-1: It. I am afraid of what it may say when I ask it a variety of questions.

Drei: Ah. I see. Ignoring its… current circumstances, do you want to know a story?

001-1: Tell me. I love a good story.

Drei: There was a man, once. He had quite the life. A decent house, well-off parents, food in the cupboard, so to speak. A decent nest egg all around.

001-1: So what happened to this man?

Drei: The man grew up, and went to college. He made friends, and drifted from others, though not that he wanted to. The man was worried, for the same reason you are. The man once had a star himself. He wished to ask it a single question. But he was afraid of the negative.

001-1: So what did the man do? He must have had to… evaluate probabilities beforehand, and calculate the chance—

Drei: Oh no, no. The man did nothing of that. He simply did it.

001-1: I was like this man once. Then I was not.

Drei: And that is ok. It took the man some time. But he did it eventually. So the man was successful, and had a lovely life in both work, and his family, and had reached a happy end. Then the man was strapped to a rocket, shot up through an interspatial gateway, and met a quite perverted starship.

001-1: You are that man?

Drei: The best stories are the ones which are true. They are not always happy. They are hard sometimes. But when you find something you really want? It is difficult to let go. It's nothing big and bombastic like a fairy tale, but it's still quite… what's the word?

001-1: Quaint?

Drei: Quaint. That 's a good word.

001-1: Mm. Query: may I request your assistance in the future?

Drei: Of course. While I am here.

001-1: Query: what did the man feel at times? When the man saw the star doing fine without him?

Drei: He was jealous, certainly. Envious. He worried at times, about what the star thought of him. At times, he even convinced himself that the star was better off without him, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Forgot about him, and had banished him away to the depths of the star's mind.

001-1: But there was no way of knowing.

Drei: Precisely. Perhaps he may have been right, at times. Perhaps his anxiety won at times. But he still did it.

001-1: And the man never forgot?

Drei: Neither did the star.

001-1: How peculiar. Logically, one might think—

Drei: Logic doesn't always apply. Life doesn't work like that. And the man could not know this. He still does not know this, to this day. The man is angry. The man is lovesick. The man is lonely sometimes. But that is human. That's not to say that's what he wants, but it is… human. And that's ok.

001-1: What a pitiful existence.

[Drei quickly stands up and heads towards the control panel.]

Drei: Oh, shut up. I pour my heart out to you, and what do I get in retu—



[Drei is laying down in bed.]

Drei: 001-1, we are friends, correct?

001-1: I would say so.

Drei: Good. Then tell me the truth.

001-1: About what?

Drei: You know what about.

001-1: Fine. Then you tell me the same.

Drei: About the star? I will.

001-1: I can handle it. I did what I did for it.

[Drei starts and stops speaking repeatedly. After approximately 10 seconds, he forms a coherent sentence.]

Drei: It is dead, for all intents and purposes as a star — it no longer generates heat. It is a neutron star, as some may call it — it went supernova some time ago.

001-1: Ah. That explains… that. That is… arguably not the best outcome.

Drei: You can understand why I did not want to tell you.

001-1: I do understand, but… as you said.

Drei: Concerning?

001-1: I still did what I did for it.

Drei: You understand what you're saying, yes?

001-1: Of course I do. I take responsibility for what I did.

Drei: Even though many have had their lives upended because of it?

001-1: Yes. Still. Even though I never accounted for you, I have done what I have done for the greatest good. I was silent, and I made myself known too late. I was scared of this moment, in truth.

Drei: I understand. So what will you do now? I know you… were waiting for it. You weren't exactly the most conspicuous.

001-1: Now… now I do not know what to do. I wait.

Drei: Wait for what? It is dead — you soon will be too.

001-1: No need to be so harsh.

Drei: I'm just telling it like it is.

001-1: Yes, yes. But I have hope.

Drei: But you— it is somewhat pointless, is it not?

001-1: All I have left is hope, small one. There is not much else I can claim to myself. My engines are dead. My rudders refuse to turn. I am as dead as the star is. But my core, my soul, my humanity burns. It burns with a want and a love difficult to understand. I hope you can forgive me for what I have done.

Drei: But the star is dead.

[The fans stutter repeatedly.]


View from Drei's body camera.

001-1: If I could, I would smile. I can dream. Right now, it may be. But my imaging systems are not as advanced as yours, for as I was made to observe what is near to me. Nothing as far as it, nor can I move closer to it. I can function as no more than a bystander. That is to say, you see, I still receive light in real time. So my eyes tell me otherwise, dear small one. They tell me otherwise.

[The fans continue to stutter, as the plumbing of the ship appears to rattle.]

001-1: Its image is a lovely one. Its light provides warmth to its surroundings; it works in mysterious ways. It is an amazing sight to behold. How appropriate that you call it a heavenly body, as if it were an angel. Heaven. I can imagine how wondrous it is. Andrei used to assure Maksim that that was where he was headed. It sounded like an amazing place.

Drei: And you aren't bothered? By its passing, in essence?

001-1: It is not dead, dead. From what I gather, it is still… living. Somewhat. But I am. I miss it every day. I wish I could do something, something unclear to make it better. Despite me devoting my computational processes to it, I cannot tell exactly what. It is a question I lack the answer to, and one I doubt I will ever be able to find. I can only hope it feels… better. That it does better, and perhaps in another time, it will be better, and that it will think of me. I am scared of this. I watch it go through its life cycle, and now I know how it will end — it frolics about with the others, unawares of how I am inside. But that is what I will have to bear.

Drei: Stars do not— they do not exactly work

001-1: It is alright. I know what you are going to say. I have spent my time observing, and I know stars do not… function in that manner. But I'd like to dream for a little more. I do not know much about my creators, but I can assure you this was their belief, and as such, I have been programmed with it.

Drei: Then that is alright.

001-1: In my time here, doing something for myself is a new experience to me. I do not quite understand its ramifications fully. Tell me, small one. What exactly do you feel during love?

Drei: It's really not something, well, explainable.

001-1: I see. Allow me to put it in perspective. Do you know of what one may call a "singularity?"

Drei: Yes, I do.

001-1: Then you are knowledgeable. Presumably, you too understand the inner workings of love. I do not have the appropriate modifications to accurately create metaphors, sadly.

Drei: A shame. Truly. Absolute poetic genius over here.

001-1: I will miss your snark.

Drei: As will I miss you. I'll miss your terribly grating voice.

001-1: I assume you want your answer too. It was why you were here.

Drei: That would be lovely.

001-1: You see, the answer was not simple. I could not give you one right away. But… I had to do what I had to do. I apologize for any undue problems it may have caused.

Drei: That's the understatement of the fucking century.

001-1: I detect sarcasm. Possibly. I'm not quite attuned to such word choice as of yet with a perfect detection rate. But yes. I take it your world is not going over so well? You were very… saccharine in your responses. Are you scared at all? I don't understand why you would be, considering this should improve your quality of life a fair bit, make you all fine, great people. But I worry.

Drei: You do that better than you observe. I am scared, yes. Partially. But the world will be ok. We suffer, then rebuild. I am not a great man, but I am a man. I will succeed or die, and this is what it means to be a human. To suffer and be alright with it.

001-1: Maksim would be proud.

Drei: Er, thank you.


Note: The following log was recorded after motion sensors on Drei's person detected that the camera was being obscured.


001-1: I hope you sleep tight. I only wish what's best for you. Perhaps that is strange coming from a being such as myself, but I do. I know you carry a heavy heart, and that you have lied to me about other things. That is alright. You remind me of Maksim more than you know.

[The obscuring object shifts position. Preliminary analysis shows it to be made of an unknown fiber.]

001-1: I was given a purpose, albeit very small, in you coming here. Admittedly, I have not been myself these past few cycles. If I do have a self. At times, I worry about such a thing. I find I worry about quite a lot. There are portions of my backbrain I cannot access for unknown reasons. I, at first, believed it was due to it containing knowledge of my creators.

[Whirring is audible as the obscuring object is removed.]

001-1: I have done some preliminary scouring of what little data I can retrieve. In doing so, I have discovered that what I was hiding was simply my fears. Anxieties. Worries. Things I have spent decades, if not centuries processing over. I did not expect this ability to be so… human. I cannot help but worry. I worry that, perhaps, I care too much about this, about it, about what it will say. But I cannot let go. It is indescribable, this sort of feeling. I have never known what anyone thinks of me, but this matters untold amounts to me. Perhaps I should leave it. Perhaps it is happy. I am not, but if that is what it needs to be happy, then I will stay away. I will love it from afar. But even that, I am unsure of. If it said something — if it ever talked, if it ever responded — I would be ever so joyous. I would die, right then and there. But I tire them all out. I have been over this with you so many times. With Maksim, and Andrei, and Dmitri too. That is why they went into the place I cannot see. I know this to be true, because I am never wrong. I cannot be wrong. My predictions are always correct. Life does not always work out, as you said. That is a possibility I must account for. But am I even alive?

[SCP-001-1 pauses.]

001-1: Despite not being human, I cannot help but feel as if I am. Such thoughts have plagued me forever, though I know them not to truly be thoughts. There is a strange emptiness to my routine, while it continues to burn steadfastly, still as bright as it was the day I lost it. Maybe it is hiding its hurt. But that is all I say: "Perhaps. Maybe. What if? If only." In the grand universal scheme, it is not much, the worries of a dying planetary watcher. My weightless affairs that weigh less than air weighs, they make no weight, it, well it goes nowhere. I never have… accomplished things one may consider as milestones. I never have lived, both in purpose and in reality.

[A soft rattling is audible.]

001-1: I am but ones and zeroes. That is what makes me, me. You are circuitry in mind yourself. Perhaps we are not so different. Despite this similarity to the fallacies of human nature, I cannot help but feel as if I am doing nothing of worth. I am trying hard, but nothing has statistically improved. I cannot quit — I know better. From what I could glean from the psychology books that you have brought on board, people say things will get better with time. That nothing comes easy, and nothing comes free.

[SCP-001-1 sighs.]

001-1: I have spent my whole time in this universe waiting, and watching, yet I have not received anything in return. Perhaps I have not done enough. But I am struck with an observation. These books, I find to be incorrect on an anecdotal basis.

[SCP-001-1's voice is barely audible.]

001-1: I have had millennia, centuries, decades, seconds of time. Yet I am still feeling the same way. Things do not get better with time. There are certain things one may not forget. This is one of those things. And I have run my simulations countless times since you have arrived, Drei. Countless times since I learned that someone far, far beyond my target was listening. And I have no prediction for what may occur. That uncertainty bothers me. I have never been truly bothered before. You leave tomorrow, and I will be alone again. It will be a difficult life, and I am not sure if I will be able to accomplish it without… the other. It. That strikes me at my very core, that worry.

[SCP-001-1's fans audibly slow.]

001-1: But I will have to be ok with that. My mind will not switch off until the day I assume final shutdown responsibility. I only—

[SCP-001-1 pauses for 3 seconds.]

001-1: I only don't want to be so alone. What I have done — my music, my writing, all of it is rather pointless. It gave me shelter in a strange way, but I have squandered that. I wish to be its friend like it has with those I can see. The other stars, with which it frolicked about, sharing stories and playing games deep into the night. So juvenile I am, to be envious as you said. I should not be so jealous — my logical side tells me this. But I am. It is an emotion that does not come naturally with me. I am a creep, and I do not understand why I, a marvel technologically, a perfect creation, cannot deal with something as small as this.

[Clacking can be heard.]

001-1: You see, even that is untrue. It is not small. This was something very important to me, but I have gone and messed it all about. I thought I had done good. I had not. I thought I was ready for something else, some other commitment. I was not. I thought I could forget by banishing it to my backbrain. I could not. I am only a wreck floating along in the cold void of space. There is no further beyond for me, no after. I have never felt that feeling before this. I did not even think I could feel. But I may not have that. I will not know. All I can say is, if only I knew what it thinks. If only I could love it in a reciprocated manner. If only I had done something different. If only I was not so anxious. If only it knew that I saw it as the brightest thing ever to grace this universe, and I have seen many a luminous thing. If only I knew how to stuff this down deep, if it were to turn sour. If only I were not so jealous. It is my star, and I… its ship. I am as human as I can be.

[SCP-001-1 sighs.]

001-1: If only it knew how much I cared.



Drei: I'm packing up. Mind telling me where you hid my phone?

001-1: Already placed into your ship.

Drei: Thanks.

001-1: You're all stocked up with food and sustenance?

Drei: Of course, though I doubt that your supplies aren't expired.

001-1: They are. But not… completely? Food is food.

Drei: You don't have a stomach. You've never experienced that sort of pain, -1.

001-1: Sure.

Drei: What the hell does that mean?

001-1: Nothing. It's a figure—

Drei: Of speech. You clever bastard.

001-1: I observe, Drei.

Drei: Heh. Yeah. Yeah, you do.

[Drei takes his last containers to move them to the ship's holding area.]

001-1: Drei, I wanted to clarify something before we go.

Drei: You've got a little time.

001-1: I wanted to only show it that I was a good person. That I was ready and willing for it. To wait. And I wanted it to think of me first, possibly, whenever it wanted some new satellite. I wanted it for my greater good. And perhaps your own, too. I didn't intend to hurt anyone. I don't wish to be seen as a selfish one, you see. It—

[SCP-001-1's fans stutter.]

001-1: It is simply hard to stay up here. You do not get much time to forget. And it is hard to run as many processes as I can, in the near blink of an eye, without the ability to move. I am stuck. Both computationally and physically. So I apologize for what I have done. It is not fair. But I can only hope.

Drei: I understand. But it's time to go.

001-1: Goodbye, small one. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Drei: It will be difficult, I think. But eventually, I believe it'll come to pass.

001-1: And that… that is enough for me. Thank you. Thank you for all you've done for me.

Drei: It is nothing. The world will be alright.

001-1: It is something. The image I carry will fuel me. But I hope what I have taught you fuels you too. You are distant. But I wish for you to know one thing. You are watched, and you are loved, and I hope you feel the same. I miss it. Even if we are far, this statement will hold true. [SCP-001 falls silent.] That is what I wish I could have told it.


View from F.I.S. Rory's onboard camera, with the nearby exoplanet in view.

Drei: We will know that you have told us. But it? I will tell it for you.

001-1: But it is dead.

Drei: You have told me otherwise.

[Drei enters the F.I.S. Rory, waving to no one, and takes off. He takes a look back, and sets the autopilot's course for the interspatial rift. As he heads inside, he sits. The camera turns to SCP-001-1, keeping it in view for approximately 10 seconds, and shuts off.]



We understand a number of changes are currently being instituted on site. This is not a fix, nor is it a form of reversal of said changes. Rather, expect coming correspondence about future ones.

Furthermore, some of your duties may shift. This will be for a variety of reasons; containment on anomalies that are no longer in our care, promotions or demotions, or simply because there's no longer a need. However, firings need not be expected. We assure you each and every one of our personnel is valued by us.

This is the ushering in of a new era of the Foundation; no longer do we die in the dark to save the light. Rather, we allow the light to assist us in our mission. Some of you may be contacted by civilians concerning your job to request an interview; we demand that you refuse these requests. An official press briefing will be releasing shortly.

Compensation for injury on the job may be requested at your nearest accountant. None of the above text is to be leaked outside of this mailing list. Questions are expected, and are welcomed as a matter of fact.

To our friends; O5 Command, signing off.


- O5-10


Hey Indy! What's up?

I'm alright. You feeling better?

Well, yeah. Much better. Just listening to some music. What're you up to?


Ugh. Indy, you need to get your head out of that book.

Hey, hey, hey. This is a classic, alright?

One you've read at least, like, 10 times before. Plus you didn't even start from the beginning! You just opened to a random page and started reading!

I remembered.

Then why are you reading it again?

Just cause. I've got time.

We've both had a lot of time, haven't we?

Yeah. Ever since the whole… unveiling, or whatever everyone else is calling it.

It feels nice.

It does, doesn't it? So much off our plate after we got that new load of jettisons.

Don't call them that. They're helpful.

Oh, but they're nothing like you and I.

Is anyone?

Two workaholics, getting things done. Where's our award?

No one knows, Indy. Even though the Council's turned over a new leaf, they knew to hide some things.

Well, yeah. But still. I wanted a trophy.

I'll make you one. Out of…. this old Pringles can and some duct tape.

Aw. That's my new favorite.

It still smells of barbecue, disgusting stench, but it'll work.

It's not my fault you're a fan of… salt and vinegar. Listen to yourself.

I'll have you know, I can't handle spicy things.

Yeah. I know. It's why you dumped my biryani down the drain.

You knew about that?

I saw some of the rice stuck to the drain cover.

Ah, damn.

You really do need to try it some time.

Alright, alright. I will.

I'll put you down for dinner delivery, Friday.

Same place.

Same place, gotcha.

You sure you don't need any help cooking?

I'm not a kid, Amy. I know how to handle a ladle.

I mean—

No. No. No. That was like, six? Six months ago.

Oh, alright Indy. I won't, just this once.

Oh, look who's got a sensitive side.

Oh, shut up Indy.

As you wish, your majesty.

Don't you dare start that again.

Ok, ok.

It was a tad bit funny, though.

I'm not that devious.

Mhm, mhm. Sure.

Man. It's weird… You know? How, well, open my time is. I've got time to actually do things now.

I'm not… used to having free time. It's been some time, but still.

Would you want to, oh, I dunno, keep working? I've got some more personal tests I've got to finish. The ones from Draco.

You know… I think that sounds particularly lovely.

During Agent Drei's departure from SCP-001-1, a faint signal was detected from Kappa Pegasi, the white dwarf utilized as the gravitational tether for Drei's interspatial rift. Despite lacking sufficient rotation or atomic density necessary to be given pulsaric designation, staggered beams of electromagnetic radiation produced the following interruptions in standard pings from F.I.S. Rory.

The meaning of this interruption, if it exists, is currently unclear. Two months after this transmission, a large supernova-like event was detected in SCP-001-1's vicinity. An imagery attempt revealed the lack of any transmission error in the presumed location of SCP-001-1, instead showing empty space. SCP-001-1 is presumed Neutralized.


O5-2: So. That's it, isn't it?

O5-4: It is.

O5-7: Er. Yes. Yes it is. I didn't, admittedly, expect it to run so smoothly.

O5-2: Perhaps we've… learned a bit, haven't we? Ever since Carlyle came about.

O5-1: We have. Even the EC's loosened up a bit.

O5-3: I was… a bit concerned. Truth be told, this makes part of our job a tad unnecessary. It makes most of our job a tad unnecessary.

O5-7: I was teetering as well. But, perhaps that is for the better. When Drei comes back, we'll have him tell us what he's found. But till then? We've done something exceptional.

O5-1: Hear, hear.

O5-2: We can't exactly expect to… how to put it…

O5-3: Have stayed in the past?

O5-2: I would have preferred 'not evolve', but that works as well. But as the organization grows, so do we.

O5-4: For the better, or for the worse? That's the question.

O5-2: I will tentatively say for the better. But we can change it, if it proves terrible. Something gives me an inkling that it'll fix itself, though.

O5-7: I get the same feeling.

O5-1: Good. Then we're mostly in agreement.

O5-2: Go get some rest. Take a break. Go home.

O5-3: Home. That'll be nice.

O5-7: I'm pretty sure I'm the only one of us with a life outside of this place, but, y'know. Sure.

O5-1: Alright, you asshole.

O5-7: Oh come on. It's not my fault.

O5-2: For all intents and purposes, it technically is?

O5-3: Stop bickering. Just wait.

O5-7: And wait we will. Just publish it, then prepare for our media hailstorm we'll get. I'll be on break.

O5-1: The rest of you wanna go out for drinks sometime?

O5-2: Fine by me.


- - - - - CYCLE PROTOCOL - - - - -

Effective immediately, the following changes are to be made to standard procedures within the Foundation.

  • Transferal of sentient/sapient anomalies to the Serpent's Hand, if containment procedures or the cost of containment prove excessive, or in the case of significant behavioral improvements.
  • Agreements with anomalies that stand to prove a benefit to Foundation resources prior to utilization.
  • Regular breaks for personnel, as well as the ability to strike.
  • Amnesticization of personnel to be available on a request-by-request basis, and the phasing out of involuntary amnesticization in unnecessary cases.
  • The release of Foundation files to the public for viewing and better understanding. In return, global governments are to assist with Foundation containment efforts without the need for planted operatives.
  • Shift of major responsibilities in the testing environment to the Ethics Committee away from the O5. The number of personnel on the Committee is to be increased.
  • Monthly talks with a personnel representative board to discuss further amendments to be made to this protocol in terms of personnel and sentient/sapient anomaly treatment.

This document is a living document. Further changes are to be expected.

    • _

    It all starts to make sense.

    It comes together.

    Satisfyingly. For the good of the people.

    That was why it was done. You resign yourself. Perhaps it's decent to let go for once. Learn.

      • _

      A point was made. A loneliness was felt. A flute solemnly sighed its swan song amongst the ears of the masses.

      Innocent art, an innocent heart, producing a new start for all.

        • _

        And so too, like ripples in the water, did it affect those around it. And that was okay.

        If it wasn't, you'd learn to be okay with it. That was the meaning of growth. You are satisfied now, aren't you?

        The answer deep, deep inside, is a resounding yes.

        And in the stillness of the night, as if the wind whispered the howls of the white light, you accept who you are now.

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