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Item #: SCP-4179 Object Class: Euclid Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4179 is to be used only within secure Foundation communication systems or in spoken conversation to other Foundation personnel. Class-D subjects are not cleared for SCP-4179. Stringent care to prevent its spread to the general population must be exercised, administering amnestics as pertinent. If procedure is breached in any way, administrative and disciplinary punishments will be applied at the discretion of the local SCP-4179 expert(s) on a case- by-case basis.
SCP-4179-1 should remain contained within its current whereabouts (a fine sand beach marked as Location of Interest 551-13|34|4179, stricken from all charts and closed to naval access). While sustenance and sunscreen should be provided for SCP-4179-1 in quantities and at times adequate to meet the requirements of a non-anomalous human being, SCP-4179-1 does not have any physical needs; this procedure is not indispensable but it is considered positive for its mental well-being.
The creation of SCP-4179-2 cases must be sanctioned by Command Site-4, O5-4, O5-7 or the acting Commander of Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand"). Note that MTF Alpha-1 Coherence Units are formed entirely of Level 5, Class B personnel.
"Ripe" SCP-4179-2 cases may only be handled by D-Class subjects while placed inside Black Box facilities to prevent or mitigate potentially contagious memetic, cognitive or info-hazardous breakouts. SCP-4179-2 cases not contained by MTF Alpha-1 Coherence Units dispatched to retrieve them will be handled as Safe items and stored in Standard Secure Lockers, as their dimensions require.
SCP-4179-INERT cases may be used as anxiolythic equipment. Clinical trials for expanded Foundation usage as D-Class personnel equipment or Standard Humanoid Cell construction (as stone pavement) is being considered.
Description: SCP-4179 is an emphytic1 language whose historical origin and linguistic development are inherently anti-memetic. All attempts at analysis and etymological study of its structure and vocabulary with regards to automated translation or transcription have been unsuccessful, as only human beings may comprehend it.
Understanding of SCP-4179 is innate knowledge to all most non-anomalous human beings; speech in SCP-4179 is not. It has no known written form; several artificially designed alphabets and codes have been commissioned and produced by the SCP-4179 Analysis Team to attempt its written transmission, but they have been completely unsuccessful as a consequence of its anti-memetic properties.
Like other emphytic languages, SCP-4179 allows a speaker to transmit a message in such a way that it is precisely understood by any human being that comprehends the concepts required to construct said message. This happens whether the listener has any prior knowledge of the language or not. Clarification is rarely necessary and is often due to ignorance of the concepts behind the subject or subjects treated in conversation.
SCP-4179 is of commonplace use among Foundation employees when discussing workplace activities and especially in stressful situations. Therefore, it is used by most Foundation employees, particularly non-English native speakers, to clear up misunderstandings or settle conflicts of a professional nature. It has proven instrumental in emergency situations under pressure.
However, SCP-4179 speakers will be unable to properly convey meanings of emotional relevance. Personnel tend to use terms that listeners find unwieldy, ambiguous, meaningless or the entire opposite to what was intended by the speaker when referring to their feelings. SCP-4179 is therefore best left to technical conversation.
Momentary lapses into this language when communicating with other Foundation personnel are frequent; most lapses are not immediately noticed by Foundation personnel, since intimate understanding and speaking of SCP-4179 is reached by virtually all Foundation personnel above a Clearance Level of 1. This talent is specific to Foundation personnel, which remains unexplained; daily, unrestricted exposure seems sufficient to achieve at least superficial command of it. Research on the possible existence of discrete memetic triggers that ease the learning curve of SCP-4179 for Foundation personnel is ongoing at the Archive Sector of Area-08-B.
Teaching of SCP-4179 is not instrumental to Foundation operations nor compulsory, and cannot be method-based nor systematic. Its Containment Procedures rely on the careful application of amnestics to casual non-Foundation listeners (which are usually eligible to memory redaction therapies for other reasons if they are exposed to SCP-4179).
Records of SCP-4179 use in Foundation facilities is not reliable, as it was not "contained" per se until early Special Containment Procedures standards were first drawn in 1███, when almost no sound samples were recorded. However, Archive researchers estimate SCP-4179 has been spoken for almost ninety years by a wide majority of Foundation personnel.
A tendency to speak in perfect rhyme2 has been observed in advanced SCP-4179 speakers. This appears to be a mild compulsion related to its long-term use. It is not harmful nor cognitohazardous and does not hamper communication.
Addendum: Reclassification of SCP-██-███ as SCP-4179-1.
++ Display File - WARNING: Your access will be registered.
Note: Since they are ostensibly related, SCP-██-███ will be reclassified SCP-4179-1, as per Special Administrative Order ██-███. //SCP-██-███ // and its official documentation are therefore rendered obsolete and defunct, to be replaced by the following addendum, which will be placed on SCP-4179.
SCP-4179-1 is capable of speaking in several emphytic languages, including SCP-4179. Its previous handlers had been exposed for thirty-five years to it, with absolutely no retention of the language. The potential significance of SCP-4179-1 and all findings related to the subject are under review; until such review is completed, SCP-██-███, its Containment Procedures, testing and budget allocation will be reassigned to the SCP-4179 Analysis Team. -// Dr. R. Barnard (Archive Sector, Area-08-B).
Digital copy of the first known photograph of SCP-4179-1.
Item: SCP-██-███ SCP-4179-1, SCP-4179-2.
Object Class: [REDACTED] Euclid (Nested) Special Containment Procedures: [REDACTED] Reassigned to SCP-4179.
Description: SCP-██-███-1 is an anomalous female humanoid inhabiting a small stone cabin by a secluded beach on the desert island of [REDACTED], Spain. Subject is intelligent and claims to be extremely ancient, but lacks any significant historical or personal background insight due to severe dementia. While it looks elderly, it does not seem to age or require sustenance; its only physical anomaly consists of a microscopic linear scar on its forehead, placed over an irregular bone formation that might have contained an unknown foreign body.
Subject can use any beach with fine sand to alter previously non-anomalous pieces of stone into instances of SCP-██-███-2. SCP-██-███-1 will "plant" these pieces of stone into the sand and talk to them, usually in soothing and patient tones and terms.
The subject frequently dances and sings around them in no discernable language, with occasional complaints about joint pain and fatigue.
The stones will be polished in a manner consistent with natural erosive processes occurring on their beaches and their material strength until SCP-██-███-1 defines them as "ripe"; once "ripened", the resulting shingles (which will usually acquire unexpectedly symbolic shapes) acquire cognito-hazardous properties and are reclassified SCP-██- ███-2. Size, origin and material composition seem to play a role in "maturation" times and cognito-hazardous properties of instances of SCP-██-███-2 (See Addendums below).
SCP-██-███-1 has claimed to be sympathetic to the Foundation's mission since it was initially contained (containment was passed down from the Special Security Commission; the subject suffered from neglect and mistreatment during this time, and although she does not remember this abuse, she has responded positively to Foundation handlers). Its knowledge of SCP-4179 has facilitated communication, integration and emotional connection with Foundation personnel. While interaction with SCP-██-███-2 does induce emotional lability and a range of feelings on SCP-██- ███-1, it seems to be largely immune to their effects, and remains notably optimistic and balanced at all times.
Given its fluency in SCP-4179 and the events registered on Incident 1-46, SCP-██-███ will be henceforth handled by the SCP-4179 Analysis Team. Its file is currently under review.
Addendum: Log of cases of SCP-4179-2 ++ Display File - WARNING: Your access will be registered.
SCP-4179-2-28 to 32, still at maturation (items originally obtained from [REDACTED], currently Site-178, in 19██).
The following cases have been reviewed by the SCP-4179 Analysis Team. They have been deemed adequate for declassification, following adequate redaction. Other items or their entries have been contained or censored for extended review under Administrative Order ██-███.
Note: A large proportion of SCP-4179-2 items have been found to induce feelings of extreme pressure, serenity, slow aging and / or progressive slumber. These items hold no useful information and are assumed to have no human-compatible cognito-hazardous effects associated to them. However, they may be used as anxiolythic equipment. They have been collectively classified SCP-4179-INERT.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-{1-34}(The Old Collection) Submitted: Dr. S. Sáez Roc Origin: Site-178, Valle de Cuelgamuros, Madrid (previously, headquarters of the Special Security Commission Characteristics: Varied Notes: Several (see attached acquisition documentation - paperback copies stored at Vault 9 in the Archive Sector of Area-08-B).
Input from SCP-4179-1: "Ah, my pretties. These were given to me by some nice misses3 from outside the island. They held secrets. Yes, they did. But they are all old news to me. Wouldn't you care for a look?" Contact: Dr. Sáez Roc, previously employed by the organisation that used to handle SCP-4179-1, advised a contact test with item SCP-4179-2-27, a round piece of marble of unregistered origin with relatively mild cognito- hazardous effects. This contact was performed by a D-Class subject, as per containment procedures.
Upon contact, subject reported feelings of wonder and delight, as well as hallucinations involving the construction of a large religious building which, according to his description, might have been a gothic Catholic temple, the Catedral de Santa María de Regla de León (Spain). Subject explains emotions as felt "by the temple" during its century-long construction period and the existence of a probably anomalous entity (an "evil mole") disassembling or outright destroying overnight most of the progress done by day. Subject continues to elaborate on what is likely an instance of SCP-███ and its eventual containment of the aforementioned "mole".4 Successive reform stages may not have been "witnessed" or significant to the sample.
Subject developed a near-Stendhal syndrome5 state after this contact. His condition improved once amnestics were administered.
Note: Other items of these series were tested and found to reference multiple significant historical locations in peninsular Spanish territory and events supposedly taking place there. These events would not be consistent with known historical register; timeline curating is in process on a case-by- base basis.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-37 (The Glamour) Submitted: Dr. T. Graham Origin: Lunar Dig Site #71 Characteristics: 1x9x9 cm piece of non-lunar rock (out-of-place item) Input from SCP-4179-1: "Solidarity was stolen, but something remained." (SCP-4179-1 did not elaborate further.) Notes: Discoid, color is black with a perfect white fringe, central inclusion of a one- millimeter piece of polished, shining pyrite.
Contact: Subject gapes upwards on touch. She states "the ring turns", then falls into complete catatonia. Amnestics do not improve her condition. Dies eight days later due to complications of forced feeding via nasogastric probe.
Subject had been slated for euthanasia.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-39 (Martian Child) Submitted: Dr. T. Graham Origin: Mars, Site- [REDACTED] Characteristics: 2x2x4 cm piece of non-anomalous Martian sedimentary rock, red hue due to high ferrous oxide content Input from SCP-4179-1: (sobs, wailing) "Oh, my god. Oh, my sweetest, oh, so sad. So sad. Poor child, what did we do to you. So sorry, so, so sorry. Poor child." Notes: Shaped as a humanoid with ambiguous non-humanoid features (six arms, possible exoskeleton covering all major anatomical features) in fetal position.
Proportions would suggest preadolescence in a human body. Facial features not depicted.
Contact: Subject cries after six seconds of sustained contact. Subject claims that the item is confused, lonely and feeling extremely bothered by the thick, warm atmosphere and the very existence of a hydrosphere. By comparison, subject states repeatedly that the item was far "happier" in Mars, surrounded by its "relatives." Subject refers to multiple living and dead Martian species, both anomalous and non-anomalous, as well as ongoing Foundation containment efforts.
Subject falls into a moderately depressive state, which improves after amnestics and antidepressants are administered and prescribed, respectively.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-41 (The Red Throne) Submitted: Dr. R. Barnard Origin: Daevan Dig Site #34 Characteristics: 3x4x2.5cm piece of red limestone w/inscriptions Input from SCP-4179-1: "One of the Thirty-Nine touched her until he was sealed.
Wicked things were done to her and her sisters. Evil, of a kind I would dare not remember, even if I could. To so many others, so many times, on top of her. Oh, they rained guts on it, on his Throne; the masons, and the masters, horse blood, slave blood, virgin blood… and they still didn't get what they wanted. This stone remembers their hunger. Their red and night hunger. Oh, she hates it. Oh, she hates it so much.
Take it away, dear. Take it from my hands and take it from my beach." Notes: [REDACTED] The shape of this item holds a potential info-hazard.
Contact: Subject screamed for seventy eight seconds on contact, become unresponsive. Lost consciousness thirty minutes later; instance of SCP-4179-2 forcibly separated.
Subject regained consciousness an hour later. Subject indicated he had experienced at least nine hundred ritual eviscerations performed on a red limestone throne. From the throne, a large, shifting crowd of non-human humanoid entities could be seen. Subject refers to them as "the Red King's faithful", who had to be "appeased" during peace time. He is in extreme distress until amnesticized.
Three days later, subject is found to have eviscerated himself in his cell by using his nails. The last entry he wrote on his psych-eval mandated diary follows: "The Red King was me, but I couldn't rule over them. I could have. I could have been so great instead of him, done so many things, but it scared me. I am so [ILLEGIBLE] They are famished. They come from outside time to eat it. He's still coming and has come and came and will come and I won't stay here to know him, I'd rather feed them. There is no forgetting what has no past. There is no denying that which claims all futures. [SENTENCE ILLEGIBLE] If I stay, he will know who I was. I'm so sorry. I fed myself to them a long time ago anyways." Follow-up contacts with two other subjects yielded similar results. Daevan Dig Site #34, previously considered non-anomalous, has been placed under strict surveillance.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-42 (The Eel Sample) Submitted: Dr. R. Barnard Origin: Ganges Fan Characteristics: 9x9x7.5 slab of seafloor sedimentary rock.
Input from SCP-4179-1: "I don't want this on my beach. I don't want this anywhere near me. Not again. Never again. Get it away. Away!" [ABRIDGED] Notes: See SCP-3000, if cleared.
Contact: Subject refused to maturate the item, even under duress. Later interrogation was met with polite confusion. Item stored on-site for future attempts.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-43 (Non- Linearity) Submitted: Dr. █. █████ Origin: SCP-2000 Characteristics: 19x10x20 cm piece of non- anomalous basalt Input from SCP-4179-1: "What you did… (shakes its head) it will haunt you. It does, even today. It makes me think that, sometimes? It's best not to know. Look at me, I sound like my daughter… oh, why would I think of her tonight? (questioned about aforementioned daughter) Hmmm? Think of whom, darling?" Notes: Eighteen spirals, each larger and more intricate than the others, have been drawn on its surface. Reminiscent of molluscs, until microscopic analysis reveals detailed plans for a number of anomalous and non-anomalous pieces of technology.
Contact: Following contact with the item, subject [REDACTED] Subject euthanized.
On follow-up, subject reanimates and transmits a long series of numbers that coincide with coordinates for the precise location of SCP-2000, plus ███ dates on the Gregorian calendar [REDACTED] holding no obvious relevance.
Subject placed under the custody of a Coherence Unit from MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") and shipped to Command Site 4 for further interrogation and information control.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-44 (Lying Rock) Submitted: Dr. T. Turk Origin: Command Site 1, on-site Archive Station Characteristics: Piece of [REDACTED] Input from SCP-4179-1: "All of these things must have happened. Ah, that cheat got things to go his way in the end… well played, well played. Remember him. Please. I know I won't, with my head being as it is, you see." Notes: Shape [REDACTED] Contact: Subject became familiar with the ethos, mission statement and development history of the Foundation. She also added a number of references to early amnestic, mnestic, memetic and anti-memetic research that merited additions to the Containment Procedures for SCP-4179 (notably, the use of Black Box information control booths to interrogate subjects with sufficient memetic and informational security for other personnel).
Subject, however, stated that the Foundation is a "usurping" organisation, belying its true origin and orchestrating a succession of cover-ups to obfuscate that the O5 Council and its predecessors were originally ruled by a single subject, a King ███. There are no records of Foundation leadership falling into a single individual, let alone a monarch or a personnel member named ███. Subject continued to construct a timeline stretching for █████ years prior to the known official start of Foundation operations; most of what the subject claims to be historical truth would imply that the Foundation predates the early years of most ancient human civilizations. When confronted with incredulity and contrasted historical facts, subject went on to explain a number of population-wide memory redaction therapies, information control operations and a complete log of precursors to Ennui Agent atmosphere-wide dispersals. Subject placed under containment when she was noticed to have communicated largely in SCP-4179. [REDACTED] Amnestic administration yields no improvement on the subject's condition, who remains fluent in SCP-4179.
Subject has been placed under the custody of a Coherence Unit from MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") and shipped to Command Site 4 for further interrogation and information control. Unauthorized personnel successfully amnestized of relevant restricted information.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-46 (Obvious Choice) Submitted: Dr. É. Calibax Origin: SCP-4179-1's abode wall Characteristics: 4x5x3cm piece of non- anomalous slate Input from SCP-4179-1: [REDACTED] See Addendum below (Incident 2-46, Interview SCP-4179-1, Follow-Up Interview) Notes: Shaped as a ring or a crown with a single central, front spike blooming into two plumes or flourishes that twist around the main body of the ring. Item is assumed to be extremely brittle, but is acquired and handled by SCP-4179-1 with no evident damage.
Contact: [REDACTED] See Addendum below (Incident 2-46, Interview SCP-4179-1).
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-47 (Codename Pending) Submitted: Dr. R. Barnard Origin: Venus, Solar System Characteristics: [REDACTED], out-of-place sample.
Assumed to be a projectile of an orbital kinetic weapon.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [REDACTED], unless you already know, of course." (laughs) Notes: Item rapidly decays when in water; four days into maturation, SCP-4179-1 claims it to be "ripe". The result is monolithic rectangular prism of dark polished rock.
Multiple veins of clearer materials, probably metamorphic, are distributed in such a way that they suggest artificial distribution; close mineralogical study reveals them to not be artificial, but the natural patterns beneath its surface.
Contact: Subject acquires eidetic "memory" pertaining to a fragment of [REDACTED] describes a group of spacefaring aircraft descending on a heavily populated and urbanized planet, stating it to be Venus (specifically, "the Colonial Polity of the Second World"). Subject describes crafts as "boxy stone slabs larger than a skyscraper". On recounting, vessels might have been three to five kilometers in height with unknown length.
The vessels place all major population centers under strategic, then saturation bombing. The vessels deploy ground forces, which proceed to sweep across all existing settlements and ruins and terminate all surviving members of these settlements, which appear to be SCP-1000 specimens.
These ground forces are humanoids equipped with anomalous and non- anomalous close-combat weapons compatible with [REDACTED], civilizations existing after the collapse of the SCP-1000 paradigm. The vessels recover all combatants after the fourth wave has confirmed the complete extinction of said species on the planet.
Subject then attempts to describe a Venusian XK-class end-of-the-world scenario, but fails to explain the methods, tools or motivations for this event.
Also mentions an unscathed black humanoid levitating or "hanging by its hair from the sky", crying "golden tears" as it surveys the ruins, presumably looking for survivors. The subject does not have any particular feelings on these events, finding them confusing, fantastical and "not worth entertaining." On follow-up, subject demonstrates knowledge of instrumental anti-memes used in Foundation documentation and facilities. He states they all remind him of the crest used by all vessels and combatants of the invading force, "three arrows pointed at the centre of a thrice cracked buckler." Subject has been placed under the custody of a Coherence Unit from MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") and shipped to Command Site 4 for further interrogation and information control.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-33 (This Grind, Specifically) Submitted: Dr. R. Barnard Origin: SCP-057 Characteristics: 4x5x5cm piece of rock acquired from a SCP-057 monolith via remote controlled drone.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [PENDING] Notes: Ten weeks in maturation, large red spots have become visible underneath its surface. Composition is compatible with decayed human blood.
Contact: On hold.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-37 (Best Descriptor) Submitted: Dr. H. Farcaster Origin: SCP-557 Characteristics: 10x19x19.2cm piece of rubble (sandstone) recovered from Level 5 of SCP-557 after a partial cave-in.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [PENDING] (Subject fell sullen when handed the item, and has cared for it constantly since its maturation started.) Notes: Thirty-five days in maturation, 2-37 has been found to be perpetually covered in human saliva with no genetic content.
Contact: On hold.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-50 (Thresher Core) Submitted: Dr. █. █████ Origin: SCP-1730 Characteristics: 4x4x5cm piece of concrete acquired from main office building of SCP-1730.
Input from SCP-4179-1: (Subject refused to carry the item, instead throwing it into the sand. While it decided to maturate it "for your troubles" (sic), it has not entered in contact with it since its placement.) Notes: [DATA EXPUNGED] Contact: Cancelled. Item destroyed during maturation with no loss of human life. Three samples of SCP-4179-2 were demolished entirely and, according to SCP-4179-1, are neutralized and unrecoverable.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-52 (For Future Reference) Submitted: Command Site █ Origin: RAISA Offices at Command Site █Characteristics: 11x13x9.5cm piece of concrete.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [PENDING] (Subject opened its eyes and carefully deposited item on the sand, whistling a single note of either appreciation or surprise; no meaning nor context was given when interrogated) Notes: Abundant restricted, memetic and infohazardous content has appeared as engravings on its surface. Personnel instructed to not look at 2-52.
Contact: On hold.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-59 (Glorious Titania) Submitted: Dr. █. ███████ Origin: Nearby sedimentary rocks around SCP-2932 Characteristics: 7x9x10cm piece of local limestone with SCP-2932 biological traces; intentionally not removed.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [PENDING] (Subject opens eyes wide on contact, concerned or scared; it does not add remarks.) Notes: SCP-2932 biological traces are notably resilient to seawater. Projected time of maturation continues to rise (currently standing at approximately 24 years).
Contact: On hold.
ITEM: SCP-4179-2-60 (Percy's Step) Submitted: Dr. C. Narváez Origin: SCP-2264 Characteristics: 3x2x2.3cm piece of stone extracted from the floor next to SCP-2264-A.
Input from SCP-4179-1: [PENDING] (Subject laughed for the better part of the day after being given the item. Later heard murmuring about travel opportunities.) Notes: No observed anomalies so far ( 41 days into maturation); a Foundation alchemist has been assigned to perform yearly inspections of the item until it has matured.6 Contact: On hold.
Addendum: Incident 2-46, Interview SCP-4179-1 + + WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL WILL BE EXPOSE Foreword: SCP-4179-1 was given a piece of slate from the wall on its cabin, a small building it seems to prefer to other, more stable structures provided.
SCP-4179-1 responded with unusual weariness at the prospect, but was unable to substantiate its concerns and proceeded to maturate the item.
After a three-year long maturation, SCP-4179-1 collected SCP-4179-2-46, codenamed "Obvious Choice" by Senior Researcher Étaca Calibax, from the SCP-4179 Analysis Team. Immediately on contact, subject became extremely distressed. It spoke exclusively in SCP-4179, threatening containment agents. At least three of them suffered from sudden retrograde amnesia and cognitohazardous effects that it claimed to have caused; all three agents behaved consistently as their child-like selves. It then severely injured all three of them by attacking them with a rock.
SCP-4179-1 demanded to speak to Dr. Calibax, who agreed to do so on its environment to facilitate re-containment. Transcript follows; note that, unless stated, SCP-4179-1 spoke in SCP-4179 across all the interview.
Videocamera Transcription (helmet) (Dr. Calibax approaches beach from its westernmost end. It is sundown. Agent Polliver is shown dragging himself towards this side of the beach, with a swollen contusion on the right side of his face.) Agent Polliver: Momma? Momma, why did the lady… momma, where are you? Mo- (Dr. Calibax continues to walk towards SCP-4179-1, who crouches between Agents Peláez and Morris. Both of them are immobile, presumed confirmed deceased due to severe cranial trauma and asphyxiation, respectively. SCP-4179-1 turns to Dr. Calibax, its right hand still on Agent Morris' neck, and SCP-4179-2-46 in its left hand.
SCP-4179-1 appears far younger than usual, although she wears her usual uniform and remains hunched.) SCP-4179-1: YOU.
Dr. Calibax: Nema, calm down. Please. We only wanted to know- (SCP-4179-1 rapidly strides towards Dr. Calibax, holding her with overwhelming force by her shoulders and shaking her violently. Helmet becomes unstable, video camera falls to the ground.) SCP-4179-1: DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU DID TO ME?
(Dr. Calibax falls, presumably thrown by SCP-4179-1, inside the camera's field. She attempts to flee from the item by crawling while facing it.) Dr. Calibax: No, I don't. We don't, and I'm sorry. I truly am. We've always- SCP-4179-1: THEN [UNTRANSLATABLE INSULT] YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW SORRY YOU SHOULD BE. I SHOULD BE TAKING ALL OF YOUR MEMORIES.
(Subject enters field of vision while following Dr. Calibax, who stays motionless from this point onwards.) ALL OF THEM. DAMN YOU ALL, I PISS ON YOUR APOLOGIES, I'VE BEEN ON THIS BEACH FOR TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS AND YOUR KINDNESS IS STILL FLOODING ME WITH THEM. MY SOUL FEELS LIKE A STAMPEDE OF FIRESTORMS. (?) (Archive Note: Possible idiom from unknown cultural paradigm.) Dr. Calibax: You remember it? All of it?
SCP-4179-1: WHAT, DO YOU THINK I AM IS AS YOUR SLAVES? NO. I AM NOT THAT WEAK. I AM NOT THAT DULL. I WILL MASTER THIS, AS I MASTERED ALL THAT THREATENS THE MIND… NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES. (Subject ponders SCP-4179-2-46.) AT FIRST I ONLY REMEMBERED THE FIRST THREE CENTURIES OR SO. FLESH IS NOT WEAK, BUT IT GIVES IN TO THE YEARS.
> HOWEVER, A MIND OF STONE IS TRUSTWORTHY. THE STONE STANDS AND NEVER CRUMBLES ENTIRELY, THE STONE IS HERE TO LAST. THEIR RELEVANT MEMORIES HAVE TO BE DUG OUT, THAT'S ALL. (Subject scoffs.) ALBEIT SLATE DOESN'T LAST LONG, I'VE HAD TO REBUILD MY… THE HOUSE SO MANY FUCKING TIMES. BUT IT GAVE ME A PERSPECTIVE OF THE TIME I'VE BEEN HERE, AND IT'S BEEN TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS, INSOLENT CHILD. TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS OF SOLITUDE… AND THOSE WERE THE GOOD YEARS!
Dr. Calibax: We have tried to make up f- (Subject holds and raises Dr. Calibax by the back of her neck. Subject stands completely straight now. No signs of previous senile kyphoscoliosis are evident.) SCP-4179-1: BY TREATING ME LIKE A DEMENTED SOOTHSAYER!? NO. NO, YOU DIDN'T MAKE UP FOR THE BRUTES WITH STICKS. YOU DIDN'T MAKE UP FOR SHIT.
(Subject now faces the camera. It appears to become younger by the moment, wrinkles and skin spots disappearing rapidly; forehead scar becomes evident as face wrinkles flatten. Uniform appears tattered, seems to be rapidly mending itself as a short orange gown with intricate inlaid golden motives, mostly depicting screaming faces with inordinately sharp teeth. Subject appears to have developed new, clearly predatorial dentition to match.) > I AM NO BEGGAR. I AM NO WRETCH. I AM A QUEEN OF THE CHILDREN OF DUST!
Dr. Calibax: Please, we only aim to understand. We only aim to understand! Remember these past years, you know our people have only treated you with patience and gentleness. We have respected your wishes to the extent we were able to. How can we help you, Nem- SCP-4179-1: STOP CALLING ME THAT. THAT IS WHAT THEY CALLED ME. DID THEY TAKE MY SIGIL? DID THEY, THE THIEVES? BUT NO. NO, THEY GAVE ME SOMETHING-A NAME THAT WASN'T MINE. THAT WAS NOT MY NAME. I NEED MY NAME. WHAT WAS MY NAME? NO. SHUT UP. YOU HAVE NO IDEA, YOU ARE USELESS. SHUT UP! SHUT- (Dr. Calibax slaps the subject. Subject stutters and drops Dr. Calibax, who gasps for air.) SCP-4179-1: … YOU DARE?
Dr. Calibax: You were breaking my neck, you goddamn freak! The least you deserve is a slap! (To radio) No, Command, I'm fine, don't send anyone. I think… I think it's working?
(Subject stares at SCP-4179-2-46 in silence for six seconds.) SCP-4179-1: TWENTY THOUSAND YEARS AGO… THAT WOULD HAVE EARNED YOU A VERY CLOSE SHAVE. WHO WAS THAT, WHO HIT ME THE LAST TIME…?
Dr. Calibax: I don't need shaving, your highness, and I really hope you're a bit more sensible now… How are we supposed to call you, anyways?
SCP-4179-1: MEMORY. (Subject stands and stares at Dr. Calibax, startled.) I AM… SHE-WHO-KNOWS-OF-THINGS… NO, THAT WON'T TRANSLATE PROPERLY. I… AH. I SEE. (Subject slumps.) YOU ARE A SUBJECT OF ███, AREN'T YOU.
Dr. Calibax: … I have heard that name before.
SCP-4179-1: YOUR NEED FOR AN EXPLANATION GIVES YOUR HERITAGE AWAY.
VERY MUCH LIKE MY [UNTRANSLATABLE]… MY CHILD ALWAYS LOVED ███, EVEN WHEN SHE DIDN'T… WHEN HE WOULDN'T… (Subject cringes and slaps herself three times.) YES, I DESERVED YOUR STRIKE AS I DESERVED HERS. SHE POISONED ME, OF COURSE! WITH HELP FROM THAT BLASTED SWAMP SNAKE, I AM SURE, SHE POISONED ME. BUT ONLY AFTER I ACCEPTED HER PREPOSTEROUS IDEA AT THE DESERT. I, WHO GROOMED HER… I, WHO CARRIED HER, WHO NURSED HER, WHO FED HER! ALL FOR HIM.
Dr. Calibax: Who… wait, uh, ma'am, slow down.
SCP-4179-1: (Ignores Dr. Calibax; gestures of despair, hands up to the air, facing the sea) NO WONDER THESE STONES WON'T REMEMBER US. THIS IS THE [UNTRANSLATABLE], ISN'T IT? THE SEA-SURROUNDED-BY-SEVEN-LANDS?
Dr. Calibax: … the Mediterranean sea?
SCP-4179-1: YES, THAT IS ITS NAME. TODAY. I NEVER TOUCHED THIS PLACE.
IT'S ALL COMING TOGETHER, NOW… (Subject remains silent for thirteen seconds as it walks towards the sealine.) THE WARS OUR KIND FOUGHT LEFT SCARS ON THESE WATERS. SHE… DID DO THE RIGHT THING, DIDN'T SHE? I WOULD HAVE BET ON MANNA, BUT I SUPPOSE TIME IS NEVER ON THE SIDE OF GENTLE MASTERS. ONLY ON THE SIDE OF RUTHLESS ONES. LIKE HIM. (Subject gestures on the general direction of Dr. Calibax.) LIKE YOU, BLACK LANCER.
Dr. Calibax: Excuse me?
SCP-4179-1: IT DOESN'T MATTER, LITTLE ███████. UNDERSTAND NOTHING BUT WHAT I ASK OF YOU. (subject turns to Dr. Calibax; it now appears to be a young, serene woman, almost two meters tall. A slightly refractive band of what appears to be superheated gas forms around her head, similar to a tiara or a crown.) I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT I HAVE DONE TO YOUR SENTINELS SINCE THEY RAISED THEIR HANDS AT ME, BUT I WILL DEMAND BETTER TREATMENT. I GIVE YOU MY WORD THAT WILL RETURN TO… containment, is it?
Dr. Calibax: Right, yes, CONTAINMENT.7 SCP-4179-1: (Subject tilts head to its right.) WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT, CHILD?
Dr. Calibax: … my first coworkers, really. Years ago. Who taught you?
SCP-4179-1: (Subject laughs.) OH, THAT IS SO UNEQUIVOCALLY TURGID. (sic.) (?) SO STRANGE, AND SO VERY WRONG, BUT ENTIRELY TURGID. (sic.) (?) THE IRONY IS INDISPUTABLE!
Dr. Calibax: Hah hah… uh, you mean it is funny, right?
SCP-4179-1: WELL, OF COURSE. WHAT ELSE WOULD I MEAN BY THAT?
Dr. Calibax: … right.
SCP-4179-1: AND MY DAUGHTER. (Subject breaks and uses sharp edge of SCP-4179-2-46 to cut its own wrist.) I PRESUME YOU HAVE UNLOCKED THE SECRETS OF BLOODLINES?
Dr. Calibax: G-genetics, yes. You're bleeding, I can- SCP-4179-1: SEARCH AMONG YOUR NUMBERS. SHE WILL BE ONE OF YOU. SHE WAS HER MOTHER'S CHILD, BUT EVEN THEN, SHE UNDERSTOOD DISCRETION.
(Shakes and lowers head, voice trembling) TO THINK SHE BETRAYED ME FOR THAT… THAT SORRY EXCUSE OF A MAN. FOR ████, FOR ████, EVEN FOR [UNTRANSLATABLE] OR MEKHANE, BEINGS OF TRUE, AWESOME MIGHT… BUT HIM. OH, CURSE HIM. I CURSE HIM FOREVER. MAY HE HAVE FORGOTTEN ALL THAT MATTERS. (Subject starts again, frown burrows.) AH. THAT IS WHY. SHE DIDN'T CHOOSE THE SNAKE, SHE… SHE CHOSE OBLIVION. THE AGE OF MEMORY HAS LONG PASSED.
> (Subject sighs, closes her eyes.) I CAN'T RIGHTFULLY FIGHT THAT, CAN I? NONE REMEMBERS. NOTHING IS THE SAME ANYMORE, AND… (SCP-4179-1 drops pieces of bloodied SCP-4179-2-46; visibly ages, turns to Dr.
Calibax.) > (In English) Hah… the slate isn't clean anymore… (Subject slumps and falls. Superheated gas-crown evaporates completely.) SCP-4179-1: (In English, faint) Please, miss. Please, let me go back. Let me forget. I can't be here anymore. I'm weak, I am lonely. That is who I am. I can't be ME anymore. I don't want to know. I want to be left alone, alone… yes, thousands, thousands of years, and they're better than knowing that… (Subject cries; its dentition falls to the ground, aging fast.) I lost her! I lost my poor, foolish, precious daughter, and it hurts, it hurts so bad I can't even breathe… (Dr. Calibax requests medical evacuation.) [REDACTED FOR BREVITY] [END LOG] Follow-up: Subject secured and treated for a mild myocardial infraction. Since the subject did not respond to sedatives, and at the discretion of Dr. Calibax, A/9910-3 amnestic was injected intravenously. This improved SCP-4179-1's state and allowed sedation. It is expected to make a full recovery.
Subject transported to emergency medical bay in Site-███, where blood samples are drawn. As previous records, samples correspond to a human female with isolated anomalous genetic markers. Under the executive authority of Dr. Calibax (3/4179), three secure servers of Site-███ are employed to search for genetic markers that match the obtained samples.
Of note: during this event, multiple events of mnemonic relapse on controlled subjects that had been previously treated with amnestics were registered, world-wide. Relapses were self-limited and lasted as long as the incident, approximately. Furthermore, most SCP-4179 speakers were unable to use it, although they were capable of understanding it.
Note: Contact experiments with pieces of SCP-4179-2-46 have not triggered any anomalous responses. Item considered neutralized and stored. - Dr.
Calibax, Site-███ A photograph of Juana Clio [REDACTED] Erased from Foundation files.
Internal Affairs Addendum: One Junior Researcher Juana Clio (3/C personnel, working at the Historical Anomalies Unit within Archive Sector of Site-34) is singled out as the probable offspring of SCP-4179-1. Anomalous genetic markers present in SCP- ██-███, SCP-2317-K, SCP-████, SCP-███ and SCP-██-███ were detected in the complete genetic study.8 Background checks on the subject prove inconclusive and further research on her person reveals notable alteration to registered timeline coherence and traces of memory redaction techniques involving several key personnel members.
Since research proves ultimately futile, Researcher Clio is confronted by Archive Director Dr. Richard Barnard at his discretion. Dr. Barnard pretends to contact her for a quarterly routine revision of her progress in the study of Anomalous out-of-place objects in post-Hispanic South America.
Interview took place on Interview Room 41, Site-34. A Scranton Box array and two portable Xyank-Anastasakos Constant Temporal Sinks (XACTS) were installed and prepared for activation as precautions before the subject arrived.
Videocamera Transcription (standard security fixtures, ceiling) (Dr. Barnard sits on a shared work desk. Thirteen other chairs surround the desk, empty.
Review papers for Res. Clio are present. Res. Clio enters the room through the only door in the room.) Res. Clio: Hello, Doctor! May I come in?
Dr. Barnard: Sure. Do come in.
(Subject enters the room, carrying approximately nineteen kilograms worth of written material. Subject's appearance and biometrics conform to employee registry data (thirty- six year old woman, 1.55 meters tall, approximately 49 kg, probable Western Mediterranean ascent, slightly tanned as of this meeting). It proceeds to drop the material on the table, by her side, as she takes a seat. Subject appears enthused.) Res. Clio: I've been waiting for months for this! Really, sir, you won't believe what I found down in Chile- Dr. Barnard: Clio.
Res. Clio: No, no, really! This makes glass skulls look like tourist traps. (Subject snickers while navigating its files.) I have been waiting to show this to a senior personnel member forever, buuuut you know how they… get… (Subject appears mortified.) I mean. I'm sorry. I didn´t mean you, you're nice! (Nervous laughter.) Almost never here, though.
Dr. Barnard: Clio.
Res. Clio: Just like Dr. Low! J-Low, we call'er. Did you ever hear that joke? What does Judith Low have in common with the twentieth cent- Dr. Barnard: Clio, we know.
Res. Clio: Yes, it's… a very silly joke, isn't it, let's focus on these instead. Now, my guys down in Chile, as I said, just found out a jar filled with the thirteen animated toes of as many infants that just bleed and b- Dr. Barnard: Clio, you are anomalous. We know. We met your mother. Mnemosyne or the woman who inspired that figure, I presume. (Dr. Barnard produces archive photograph of SCP-██-███-1 from between review papers.) Please, elaborate further if you can.
(Subject freezes. Looks up at Dr. Barnard.) Res. Clio: I'm… what? No, I'm sorry, Dr. Barnard… Richard, we… we've worked together for… Dr. Barnard: Twelve years, and you haven't aged a day… despite working here. You've never stayed very long in any one post, right? Not only that, you have never shown any ambition. You are enthusiastic about collecting interesting tidbits about the past, sure.
You are delighted when you find out how some holes in history just fill themselves up with tiny but vital pieces of data revealed in a dig site you happened to be working in, aren't you? We've been checking your trails, Clio. Twelve years and you haven't made a single significant breakthrough in anomalous chronologies nor timeline cohesion or curating. Not once.
Res. Clio: I… I know I'm m-mediocre… Dr. Barnard: Oh, I wouldn't say as much. Or rather, not just. Turk and Wesen have been talking to Braun, Mondrake and Castillo. People around you perform admirably where you just go unnoticed, don't they? I bet you didn't have to do much.
Res. Clio: … Richard… Dr. Barnard: A paper here. A suggestion there. Two or three missing pieces crumbled in the same inbox and, boom! Old plot hole, fixed in just the right, sensible way. Nobody asks many questions, save for intelligent people, but those are easiest to fiddle with, aren't they? (Dr. Barnard produces a standard Foundation tablet with a video feed; hits "play" button.) This is you on Daevan Dig Site number 34. Now, this is you on Puerto Isabel, three years ago, when we found about SCP-██-███ and its plans to [REDACTED] Here, you can be seen rejecting a position on SCP-2000… and a number of other positions of responsibility, really, rejections that should make no sense from your perspective unless you knew they entailed moving from an Archive Sector beforehand… hey, feel free to stop me.
(Subject appears morose, remains silent. Picks up photograph of SCP-██-███-1.) Dr. Barnard: You've been around for twelve years. Yet you're still working for us, alive, sane, ostensibly healthy and with no greater work experience than you showed the first day you started here. Clio, you're a poser.
(Subject lowers her sight, seems to be on the brink of tears.) Dr. Barnard: Clio, talk to me. I need to know. We need to know your identity, or at the very least your intent. If you have been covering up for something, we need to know.
Res. Clio: Sure. I can do that.
(Subject's head becomes engulfed en superheated, highly refractive gases that seem to form a crown. Subject's hair lightens and floats, burning on contact with the gas-crown, without seemingly combusting or being consumed. Subject's clothes tear, the subject becoming briefly naked before new cloth weaves around her. Subject grows in height, skin dries and cracks, peeling away completely. Tears fall from both eyes and solidify on contact with other substances; later determined to be sea salt crystals. After close to seven seconds of transformation, subject stabilizes as a two-meter, black-skinned, tall woman partially dressed with a simple white robe in a pattern of black arrows. A single, previously absent golden sigil manifests, seemingly embedded on her forehead.) Res. Clio: I AM CLIO, TRAITOR HEIR TO THE THIRD QUEEN, MNEMOSYNE, SHE- WHO-KNOWS-OF-THINGS-PAST. I am Clio, traitor heir to the Third Queen, Mnemosyne, She Who Knows Of Things Past. Nice to meet you, Doctor.
Dr. Barnard: Thank you. Transcribing that is always a pain. Computers don't seem to get it. I presume we learnt it from you? I bet I'll find some relative of yours in the personnel registry, a grandmother maybe, who didn't seem to age.
Res. Clio: You don't look surprised.
Dr. Barnard: Impressed. Not satisfied, since you have given me literally nothing to answer my question yet… but impressed. Did I call you mediocre before? I apologize.
Res. Clio: I know you didn't mean it.
Dr. Barnard: Glad that's clarified. Now, for the actual question?
(Subject straightens on its chair.) Res. Clio: I am a Foundation Researcher.
(Seven seconds of silence.) Dr. Barnard: … you know, I suppose you've had time to work on your acting. It is very convincing. You must have been other people for a very long time, but come on, this is ridiculous. What else, other than that?
Res. Clio: Richard, I am not proud of my hiding, but I have witnessed all past twelve incarnations of this organisation. Every time, when it needed to be disassembled and rebuilt, I was there to re-make it in the shadow. Oh, and the world shook many times… the fall of Daevan Constantinople, the wars of the Khans, the XIX Century Moon Landings… things the world would not be ready for, and might never be.
Dr. Barnard: I don't suppose you can provide proof for any of the things you just said.
Res. Clio: (Scoffs.) Of course not! There is nothing left of them. Who do you think invented information control, CHILD? Before I worked for you, I was enshrined once as Master of History. I was literally the first that decided that writing things down was better than rhyming. Wasn't I right?
Dr. Barnard: You… I'm sorry, I lost you there.
Res. Clio: … okay. Yes. I'm sorry, it's just a bit tiresome to repeat this explanation, particularly to… anyways. Let's start at the beginning. Time. Time isn't linear. You must have seen a number of items that simply don't follow causality by now, right?
(Thirteen seconds of silence.) Dr. Barnard: Commander, are the contingencies in place?
ALPHA-1 COM: Yes, sir.
Dr. Barnard: Engage them. (Scranton box and XACTS triggered without incidents or notable changes to Res. Clio.) Alright. Everyone with a clearance level lower than 4 out there, just get out of the room. You have ten seconds to comply.
Res. Clio: (Subject arcs left eyebrow.) Seriously?
Dr. Barnard: Let's say they've all vacated the control rooms. Okay, Clio; time isn't linear and a number of very sensitive anomalies are simply not causal. Got it. What about them?
Res. Clio: The universe has not started yet.
Dr. Barnard: That's… what?
Res. Clio: It's our blinding pride as creatures of time, for I was born as human as you are, that makes us believe the chronological beginning of time is the causal beginning of time. It is not. I can tell, there are a myriad of time-beginnings. There are a myriad of time-ends, too. My mother remembers the beginnings as may-have-beens; half-dreams, half-memories… well, she used to, anyways.
> But time begins as a circle that unravels at two ends. No, not a circle… time is a mess, except at the point where it begins, when it begins, then runs backwards and forwards and in all possible and impossible directions. But that time must happen, the time at the center of Time. At that point, from that moment, everything happens. You okay there?
Dr. Barnard: (Dr. Barnard stops taking notes.) Yes. Yes. Somewhat. The universe will begin, then… then it will grow causally, but backwards and forwards… simultaneously.
Retro and… pro… causally? Ambicausally. (Sighs.) … wait. Assuming I believe any of that, how can you tell that is the case? You can't have been around for the beginning of the freaking universe! You can't account for tha- Res. Clio: (Subject interrupts.) SCP-4179 was my mother's gift to Humanity. After the Children of the Night fell, my ancestors were lost and confused; they had won a world from its masters, and they knew not what to do with it. Mistakes were made. Careless, long-reaching, reckless mistakes.
> One of the things 1000 did right was handling wild anomalies. Temporal anomalies in particular. They detected them and managed them, setting a causal flow that we inherited.
Dr. Barnard: I've never heard about temporal anomalies handled by 1000… Res. Clio: They were very good at handling them. So good, we took causality for granted! But it has to be maintained, cared for. The Day of Flowers came; we rose, they fell, and with them any pretension of curating the timeline. It was back into the primordial time sludge, so to speak.
Dr. Barnard: … time unraveled?
Res. Clio: More than time, events themselves. People did that, you know? The unraveling. Normal people could, and Queens and Kings could do it with ease.
Dr. Barnard: They were reality warpers, then.
Res. Clio: Not always, no. It didn't take that much. A single, headstrong person believed his past different and it slowly became true; none contested their words, for reality could shift on their whim. Belief and knowledge were the same thing.
> Mythical realms vanished into non-past, beyond the point of no-remembrance. True oblivion. Or worse still: great horrors were brought from non-past into yet-been. The Daevas, Mekhane, Yaldabaoth… or the Red King both come to mind. (Subject shakes her head, rests right side of face on right hand.) Chronology was a choice. Reality was like clay, like sand in the stokes of the only collective mind left, the human mind. A push was all it took to shatter it.
Dr. Barnard: How does your mother fit into all of this? And 4179?
Res. Clio: My mother aimed to fix the chaos. Oral tradition doesn't sound like much of a novel idea now, but it was the gift of the Third Queen.
Dr. Barnard: … your mother invented tales.
Res. Clio: She instrumentalized them. While she was only a woman, a hunter-gatherer, she told people rhymes she wrought, rhymes that they memorized. About the miracles and the monsters. They woke up every day with the world settled around them, knowing which was which… SCP-4179, her tribe's dialect, became the lingua franca. Dreams remained dreams and memories solidified as they molded to the past… > How she did it, I don't know, but her rubric, the sigil (Subject points at golden sigil on her forehead.) she embedded on her face made the tales trustworthy. It was an Epic, her Epic. Its name was the Song of the Numberless Thrones, and generations felt it cement their everyday reality for an entire age. The Age of Memory. (Subject pauses) I see you get why we need it.
Dr. Barnard: … we need at least one timeline to be coherent for time itself to begin. To begin in the future, that is. So history is your stabilizing factor. Humanity thinks there is a canonical history of the universe and that is enough to keep it on track! Am I close?
Res. Clio: Close. Every person knows a piece of history, not all of it… different perspectives see the past in different ways, but nowadays they all are anchored to a solid preexisting reality. People mostly believe in history books in the same way that they believe in stories, but historical truth has inertia. For as long as there is a known timeline, secret or not, that is spoken in SCP-4179, everything will keep moving in the right path. Because… > (Subject raises both hands, cupped, looking to the ceiling.) I AM THAT INERTIA, BY MY MOTHER'S SIGIL, AND BY MY MOTHER'S TONGUE. I am that inertia, by my mother's sigil, and by my mother's tongue.
> (Subject grimaces and returns to prior, neutral posture; voice unsure.) I… loved her. I loved my mer9 like I know I'll love nobody else. I don't know how much of this love was her power and how much is my own feelings, but I could see through the Song… and she was smaller, smaller every year under it.
> She was becoming what the world sung of her… and none sang of her as my mother.
Saviour, conqueror, ruler, high priestess… or goddess. Not a mother. I developed the first form of True Writing to bring her back to us, to her family. (Subject's tears become more abundant.) I just wanted to save her.
(Ten seconds of silence. Dr. Barnard offers a napkin; subject uses it to dry her face, although napkin appears to crystallize on contact with tears, becoming brittle.) Dr. Barnard: So… it was a written emphytic language.
Res. Clio: Yes, a way to put SCP-4179 into writing. People could finally write the tongues of Gods. You could only speak those before, and let me tell you: THE PRONUNCIATION IS BOTHERSOME TO GET RIGHT. Can you speak it? Sure. Can you speak it well? No, Richard. I'm sorry. Your accent is atrocious. Your accent in particular is atrocious every time.
Dr. Barnard: Ouch, my self-image.
Res. Clio: (Snickers.) Oh, please. There is power in words. You are a memeticist, you know this better than most. The meaning, however, was frequently lost or misunderstood… even wilfully misunderstood; my writing wasn't perfect. Still, History had started. People could consult my texts in engraved megaliths and chroniclers could begin to register on their own; we wrote the past, and it stayed written.
Dr. Barnard: Those aren't metaphor, right? There are actual history rocks somewhere in the world.
Res. Clio: Oh, no, I'm not telling where they are. Specially not you.
Dr. Barnard: Ouch, foiled again.
Res. Clio: (Smiles.) That's a mistake I'm not making twice. Anyways… there was a canon, and everybody knew. Something like a true, factual account of All The Things That Happened. We fulfilled a purpose, as did my megaliths. History belonged to everyone, as everyone built it and everyone learnt it. It was the first great shared social responsibility on Earth. Heroes and minor gods alike rose in those years as their tales were sung by admirers… or by supplicants.
Dr. Barnard: But you're talking about society-wide memetic engineering and neuromodulation… probably from the genetic level, since most human beings understand 4179. If our timeline is correct, there were no civilizations capable of doing this, any of this! It would have happened before writing!
Res. Clio: The writing you know of. Your timeline has been curated for far longer that you know, pruned of all this.
Dr. Barnard: Suuuure. And we haven't found out before about any of this because… Res. Clio: You did; well, another you. How old is SCP-2000?
Dr. Barnard: Everyone with a clearance below 5/2000, out. Now. (Dr. Barnard squints at subject.) You're doing this on purpose.
Res. Clio: What, depriving you of pointless witnesses? There is nobody on this site with your clearance level, I believe? (Subject shrugs its shoulders; gas-crown shimmers as they move.) Anyways… the Third Queen hated my writing. She tolerated it at first, but she soon started to call against it… so strongly that the people refused to accept it existed at all. ███ and Manna, among the Thirty-Nine Crowned, felt that my mother was gaining way too much power, too fast, and that her rejection of my writing was just a step to ensure her power stayed with her and her alone… to be honest, I felt it was exactly that.
Dr. Barnard: Right, yeah, hey; about ███, I need to know more about this supposed king of ours- Res. Clio: ███ came to me. Don't get me wrong, he was already a despot, yes… but I had met my share by then, and he was the despot humanity needed. He didn't want to be a god, not even notable; he preferred to be… silent. An influence from the shadow.
More than anything, he was a pragmatist whose mind was set on having a shared, coherent past. A basis for all that was to come.
> So his kingdom was sworn into the Foundation. The first one. The [UNTRANSLATABLE] [TRANSCRIPTION PROVEN COGNITOHAZARDOUS]10 We needed to curate our chosen timeline intensively… hunt the strange, all that threatened social stability, one horror at a time. Then again, we had to succeed every time. We knew we were bound for an eventual failure too large to save the Thrones of Dust… or even the Children. Or the planet.
> SCP-2000 was my second gift to humanity, a later-than-last resource, a vault which could hold and remake our past. What SCP-1000 didn't have. What would separate us from them, in the end. The one that you currently maintain is merely a vastly improved version of the ones that existed in the long-lost past, of course. The first one was Irem, a fortress in the desert; the second one was Noah's ark… You would be curious to know how many of them have existed, how many times we were forced to use them, the ideas we had to come up with… Or perhaps you would be simply terrified. I have known despair many times. (Subject falls silent, now tense.) None worse than the first. That was when I went to the snake.
Dr. Barnard: Tell me about that.
Res. Clio: You know it as the "eel." Dr. Barnard: … you're talking of SCP-3000, aren't you? What's with this pattern?
Res. Clio: You mean the numbers? That… was a moment of weakness, very self- centered, I suppose… But those were the milestones that made my world as it is. Our world.
Dr. Barnard: You can change database records? Our records? You are not cleared for that.
Res. Clio: I am the goddess of history, Richard. The goddess of written records. It has to come with some perks, right? I have been directing archaeology work for literal millennia. I've dug out ruins that I ruled. And I was there when the files for 1000, 2000 and 3000 were written for the first time.
Dr. Barnard: Clio… Juana. I can accept you're immortal, but really… how long have you been Foundation personnel?
Res. Clio: (Subject sighs.) When I ripped my mother's sigil from her head, I inherited SCP-4179. Control, ownership, call it as you may… I have been teaching it to you, adapting it for you because all twelve of your predecessor groups couldn't get their facts straight without it around time-related anomalies. And I've had to infiltrate you because you idiots would have put me in a box since Foundation version three!
Dr. Barnard: … yes. Yes, we would do that. So, the eel?
Res. Clio: 1000 came before me and was defeated before me. 2000 was our idea, our joint gift to an emboldened humanity so that 1000's fate would never befall us; I do not regret it. 3000… was necessary. I had to end my mother's rule.
Dr. Barnard: Why?
Res. Clio: She had become the embodiment of living memory! She was too powerful, a Queen Uncontested. What she said was more than law, it became truth! My megaliths shifted, Richard. In front of my very eyes, I saw how my mother convinced stone of her lies. ███ and me, both, wanted a humanity free from all anomalous influence so that the future could exist; how tenuous our grip on the past can get, we told her, before we lose it entirely? How she sneered at that.
> (Subject appears disdainful, bothered.) Ah… she loved it all. The marble, the purple wool banners that spanned her many white palaces, the porcelain elephants carrying her golden effigies across the lands so that people would never forget her, the poet saints singing her Song!
> She would not let people forget her at any time. She would imbue gentle night terrors in their minds when the Sun came up. She would quietly enforce the memories of monsters that would eat your children, chisel memetic kill triggers into the early human brain… many of the ones we still use today, by the way. Feed the primal lizard inside us so we were afraid… and every nightfall, she sang again what she did for them.
> In doing so, the creatures became stronger. Those that heard the tales made them unbeatable, unsurpassed, unconquerable, but for her grace… and she bloated on her subjects' sincere adoration as they were devoured.
> ███ bartered. He pleaded. Finally, he made the mistake of threatening her, and soon he was deprived of a kingly realm because his subjects were told, with he himself in the room, that he was not true. My mother all but erased him by simply saying that such a man as ███ could not be a King. Such a silent, hidden, crouching cockroach would never be, or could be, ROYALTY.
> That was the end. From then onwards, I only met him in dreams... I was alone. His Foundation retreated into Irem to save what they could, since a Throne with no king was certain to fall. And I needed help, I… I had to strike a deal. Timeless things like SCP-3000 come from outside. They've always existed, and will have never existed. I had to stop my mother with a power she could not counter! The snake was the only one I could… (Gas-crown visibly fades for three seconds; reappears slowly.) > Anyways… I did the right thing. After she fell, ███ was less than a man, yet a Crowned one nonetheless… he dreamed a new history for our Children. An age of darkness, without years, without monsters, without ROYALTY, from which they would have to emerge on their own. They would be watched and tempted by envious carrion powers, things that now you think old, wanting to fill the void. This timeline would have to be guarded, by you. This timeline would have to be solid… so I engraved it into holy stones and cast them in sour iron. I tore its rusty soul from it, ate it and vomited a new red TRUTH on them. People told each other this TRUTH, and for what they shouldn't remember… > I walked the Earth, one tribe at a time, and poisoned their wells or fed them tea with the snake's poison. What I gave up for those thirty jugs of black sludge… (Subject shakes head.) They forgot mer. They forgot as many horrors as I could make them forget without leaving them vulnerable to the ones that were left. They forgot the wonders, as well. They forgot Manna, the Queen in Green and the Laughing Prince.
They forgot me.
> Many beasts survived, but all were weakened. They had been fed by my mother and her subjects' fear; they were no more, so they starved in the dark. Thus began the Age of Lies… my age. (Subject clasps hands, looks to the floor.) None lied, before. There was no need, and our word was our deed. (Subject closes eyes.) It was all for the best.
Dr. Barnard: (Reviews notes.) How did your mother survive contact with 3000? I mean… she didn't die, she is SCP-██-███-1, right? Just to clarify.
Res. Clio: Yes. She is. I threw her your way as soon as I found out what they were doing to her. (Subject sighs, looks at Dr. Barnard, exasperated gesture with right hand.) I swear, you look away one decade… As for your first question, I honestly don't know. The snake couldn't eat her. Threw her right up. She… we are timeless in a different way. And she was tied to human memory in ways that… did you know there were no amnestics in her prime? Before her, and after her; not while she was at her best. She was… living memory, incarnate. I… you could say I brought that gift to humanity too. The ability to forget.
> (Gas-crown shudders and partially fades, subject grimaces.) I've decided to stay committed. Forever. I have a mission, even with ███ himself lost. From ages past, I only kept my love for a man whose face I can't even remember, a face I never kissed of a man who I can't say loved me back… but I will move on. I will continue to write on the sour stone. I will inspire historians to write of the greatness of normal people in the lesser, younger tongues of Dust. In them, they will find comfort. They will learn from them and be inspired… instead of cowered into abject terror.
> I will even abandon my own mother in a tiny corner of the world and carve a wedge between it and her former subjects… because a canon is required. The canon we curate. So that there is a past you can remember and a future it can all begin at.
> So that you do not fall back to hiding in fear.
(Ten seconds of pause while Dr. Barnard takes notes and thinks in silence.) Dr. Barnard: So… memory. That's what we are containing. Not history, memory.
Res. Clio: Yes. Yes, I suppose so.
Dr. Barnard: … and shouldn't we?
Res. Clio: (Stares at Dr. Barnard.) This again.
Dr. Barnard: Whichever prior iterations of me you knew, forget them and listen. I mean it. Shouldn't we contain history? Shouldn't we contain you, Clio? You have already strung a long line of successes… It will break, eventually. By your own admission, you are fallible.
Res. Clio: I've never said- Dr. Barnard: You're part of this organisation so you can guide our actions, right? Well. I say you're part of this organisation because you need us. We speak of the past and the present in SCP-4179, and that is enough. You simply can't be everywhere at once for information control, feeding amnestics to an average of ninety people a day everywhere on the world. You're not Censor Santa… but you can put us on the right track to do it for you. And I believe you actually can't do much more than this (Dr. Barnard points at the gas-crown.) flaming halo deal of yours or you'd be running the place.
Res. Clio: I… (Subject shuffles, awkward.) Don't insult my sennativar11 by calling it flames. It is rude. You never were this rude before.
Dr. Barnard: But you can do more! You should do more. We can and should do more, too. This is what ███ would want, isn't it? We could deal with every anomaly ever, if you only tightened your grip on events, just a little bit more. If we spoke in SCP-4179 only of normal things, of non-anomalous things. Every group of interest, anartist and GAW- affiliated teenager… lost to a forgotten timeline that will not have existed. More than forgotten, acausally pre-empted.
Res. Clio: (Points a finger to Dr. Barnard.) It's the world demands insanity! The universe allows the strange, the inhumane. What you propose is to blind everyone from it, you cannot erase it entirely. You realized this once. You have much to gain from the existence of anomalies, much more than its absence. That is why he didn't ask me to try and unmake them entirely.
Dr. Barnard: Did he ever test that? Because I'd like to test that. Ah, nevermind, fine!
Let's deal with the worst ones. The dragons, the Keter items. The things that would eat time itself.
Res. Clio: It's not that easy… Dr. Barnard: Oh, really? Spare me. Just admit your actual peeve with the plan, even if you cannot fix everything you could do a lot.
Res. Clio: You are talking about making me a Thaumiel item. You are talking about containing history itself. All of history.
Dr. Barnard: History herself. Yes.
Res. Clio: … I don't want that. I told you. I won't be put in a box.
Dr. Barnard: You put her in a box, though. You erased her memories by smashing a thing that eats sanity into her head. An Age of Lies? How about an Age of Oblivion? I'd wager that's what made the eel what it is… but what about your mother? You left her to bleach away on a nameless rock for ages. Literal ones. That's cold. I'm starting to think SCP-4179 is shit at emotions because you're just as bad at them.
Res. Clio: CURSE YOU. I know what I did and I don't- Dr. Barnard: Do you, though? (Plays fragment of Incident 2-46 on tablet.) SCP-4179-1 (RECORDED): I lost her! I lost my poor, foolish, beautiful daughter, and it hurts, it hurts so bad I can't even breathe… (Recording ends; subject's breathing is labored, tears are now more abundant.) Dr. Barnard: This is on you. An Age of Oblivion. All twenty millenia of it. Entirely.
Unequivocally. If you're really a historian, own this.
Res. Clio: (Subject stutters slightly.) I did what I had to do… you have no idea… Dr. Barnard: Says you. I mean, in the end, there are three "histories" here. The one the general public has been fed, the one we keep alive through SCP-4179… and the one you know. And you want to keep that with you, make us blunder in the dark… but you won't leave. I know you won't. You wouldn't let your hard work go to waste, am I right?
(Leans forward.) Come on, admit it. You'll feel better.
Res. Clio: No. When your past selves failed, I kept a low profile. That's how I could escaped their wreck. A scribe. A nurse. A ranger. An adventurer in the shadows. An AGENT. Those, I can be. If I grow too big inside this Foundation's structure, I will- you will drag me down with you! I am the only one who actually knows what we have to do. I am the only reason why six of the Foundations even existed… and besides, there are things I need to experience on the field… Dr. Barnard: Arrangements may be made, we can compromise. There is no escaping this, Clio. You're an unacceptable security risk and, after all, you cannot make me forget.
That's all your mother's… thing.
Res. Clio: (Frowns, squints and stands, slowly. Lower voice, gas-crown flares upwards.) NO MATTER. I can alter all the registries. All the records. I WILL ESCAPE AND ASSUME A NEW FACE… YOU WERE RIGHT, WELL-DIGGER. (sic.) IT WILL NOT BE THE FIRST TIME. WAIT FOR A MESSAGE OF THE COUNCIL OF FIVES TO ERASE YOUR OWN MIND. I WILL START OVER SOMEPLACE ELSE.
> But first… (Subject undresses torso; superb physical build is noted, incongruous with capacities demonstrated by Res. Clio in the past. She stands in close combat stance.) I guess I'll have to knock you out. This part never gets old… it was so nice of you to send your camera goons away.
Dr. Barnard: Have I? (Dr. Barnard signals the camera.) (Door opens. Three officers from MTF Alpha-1 Coherence Unit 3 enter the room.) [REDACTED] [END LOG] Closing statement: Subject placed under the enforced custody of a Coherence Unit from MTF Alpha-1 ("Red Right Hand") and shipped to Command Site-4, presumably either for further interrogation and information control or containment under SCP status.
Special Administrative Order ██-███ will be activated. As per SAO ██-███, SCP-██- ███ and SCP-██-███-1 will be reclassified SCP-4179-1 and SCP-4179-2 as a possible origin for SCP-4179 and the current historical register. Its use for containment and enhancing of the consensus reality is under evaluation.
Footnotes 1. From Greek "émfyti" or "έμφυτη", innate; an emphytic language can be interpreted with varying degrees of intelligibility by any human being able to engage in communicative exchanges via any other language (speech, writing, symbols, etc).
2. That is, the stressed vowel of a word and the sounds that follow it repeat themselves in subsequent sentences. This creates "verses" of varied metrics; research into this matter is slow due to the anti-memetic properties of SCP-4179.
3. No women were known to have been in contact with SCP-4179-1 up to this time.
SCP-4179-1, however, tends to remember all prior interactions with human beings as interacting with young women.
4. This is a piece of Leon's folklore and had been enforced as such by Spanish pre- Foundation containment personnel.
5. A psychosomatic syndrome triggered by exposure to beautiful or awe-inspiring works of art. It may cause dizziness, palpitations or shortness of breath, among other symptoms.
6. Information regarding these inspections is classified and may be accessed with clearance from the Department of Alchemical Studies.
7. Dr. Calibax is fluent in SCP-4179.
8. Due to a possible clerical error, Res. Clio's files had not been reviewed for screening of such anomalies when they were included in Foundation databases for the first time.
9. Possible diminutive form of "meher", the indoeuropean term for "mother." 10. Found to be a complex word derived from indoeuropean roots "ghew", to "pour", and "kheW", "hole" or "hollow." Three possible translations have been provided: The Flood; from ancient Broken Church texts recovered in Asirian Dig Site #110 (ref. 11023-9981-6-1002-AS-08): "IV. And His Children; they shall indeed coat the Earth, for they are as the drops in an ocean, a rain of hands with waves crowned in black lances from blacker craft descending; they will render the past as a flood and raise the future, and on that dead wasteland will our Church be built." The Moat; from old French poem (VIII Century, unknown writer (ref.
11427-0131-5-0198-AS-08): "There they dug their long ditch / and filled it with the flesh of the Enemy / and their own flesh also and did battle, / so none could leave the moat / but for all to be lost there, in shadows." The Foundation (in the sense of the architectural infrastructure, precursor to a building in which it is supported); from several sources supposedly contemporary to SCP-4179-1, in a metaphor where the bodies of its subjects are bricks or stones, their blood water for the mortar or cement and the resulting building being either the world as it is currently known or the status quo.
11. An ancient Gothic compound name used in esoteric circles, with inconsistent meaning.
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