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These are their stories.
rating: +42+–x by Ethagon Displaying Digitized Files for SCP-8901 .
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His Majesty's Foundation for the Secure Containment of the Paranormal BY DECREE OF HIS ROYAL MAJESTY KING GEORGE AND THE FOUNDATION HE HAS ENTRUSTED WITH HIS MISSION, THIS DOCUMENT AND ITS CONTENTS ARE TO BE HELD IN SECRECY, AND USED TO PROTECT AND FURTHER THE INTERESTS OF MANKIND.
GOD SAVE THE KING THE COLOUR PARADIGMS Designation: SCP-8901 Paranormal Event: The anomaly in question is an unknown number of shifts in the Paradigm of Colour throughout history. Past events have resulted in effects ranging from the addition of new colours to a complete overhaul of how the visible spectrum is perceived.
Threat Posed: Global (Keter under the Foundation System) Files: In preparation for the imminent attack on the current Colour Paradigm, the Foundation has tasked the last vestiges of its precursors to fulfil their remaining purpose as archives of prior records and search for any information that might help understand or combat the threat. These findings are presented on the following pages. The first of these will be a report by the Estate Noir, followed by ones of the American Secure Containment Initiative, the Abnormality Institute, the Commission on Unusual Cargo, and finishing with a report by this Majesty's Foundation.
Report on the Dragonslayer Files as pertaining to Changes in Colour as written by Head Archivist Jean-Christophe Boullion The following file corresponds to the founding of the state that would later evolve into the État Noir circa 1130 AD.
Few documents still exist from that time, this one having been received by the Order of Dragonslayers.
The event alluded to is the introduction of the colour Blue.
The document is an excerpt of The Adventures of Dragonslayer Sir Reinald on his quest to slay the Dragon Borgarhjört as described by his colleague Sir Kennard after Reinald's death.
The honourable and battle worn Sir Reinald is accompanied on this part of the journey by two companions.
Faramund the Schriftsteller, a kind of word-wizard to my knowledge, though this one focused on colour instead. Had at the time of the story just recently finished his apprenticeship.
Ingwenyeth the Fae. As far as I can tell, this is a human subspecies with more pointed ears and intangible butterfly wings, normally at home in a mythic city called "Esterberg", which Ingwneyeth fled from to experience the human world.
This excerpt is situated after the group fled from Paris and its counterpart, having acquired the sword Oncosomnia, along the way back to Borgarhjört's Mountain. It was translated from the original French.
In the hunt for Saint-Denis Blue, the three had no choice but to once again cross the border to the more mystical Shadow France though further away from the prying eyes of the Shadow King in his capital. Still, our heroes did well in staying away from any town or city, keeping to the many Inns or the occasional merchant, lost on this shadow side. It was in a merchant not quite so lost, named Brandwen, they found a lead.
"And you think this 'Blue' will tame the dragon?" asked Brandwen.
"It should." Faramund was talking to him while the less-convinced Sir Reinald was keeping his eye on the merchant. Ingwenyeth was all the while enamoured by the merchant's more exotic vegetables.
"Far be it from me to complain. Disaster would spell for us all should Borgarhjört's breath reach the King's own grasping hand of greed. But is such a creature not better slain." At this, Sir Reinald could not help but smile. "Your concerns are mine." He put his hand on Faramunds shoulder, who was annoyed at the act. "But you should see what emotion my friend brings out from a simple coloured cloth. We shall try at peace first. Be assured that the sword comes second." Brandwen nodded at that, his brow furrowed. "What do you know about this 'Blue' then?" The first blue at the Saint Denis Basilica Faramund released himself from his companions shoulder grip to explain. "A few years ago the Abbe Suger built the Saint Denis Basilica with a stained glass that reflects the divine colour of Heaven." "Saint-Denis Blue?" Faramund nodded. The fascination shone from his eyes. "The colour is saturated with the Holy Spirit. One look at it reveals the sky as it really is." "That's all well and good." Brandwen was hesitant. "I don't deal with Churches in these lands, I'm afraid." Faramund shook his head. "I have heard of plans to replicate the glass in other churches. But for now, it is a mystical colour. It would have found its way into this realm be it as a rock of lapis lazuli or a plant of dyer's woad." "I have not heard of it," answered Brandwen, his brow still furrowed.
Sir Reinald stepped forward, hand on his chest. "Yet you still have a lead for us. I can assure you that we will prevail against all evil which will cross our path." Faramund seemed annoyed at the gesture.
Brandwen sighed. "All right. There is a bridge with an ogre under it, a day west from here. It has slain any travellers trying to cross and amassed quite a treasure hoard under it. Even from the Golden Horde and the Nightwatch has it stolen. Perhaps you will find your wonder-colour there." "An ogre?" Faramund turned to Sir Reinald. "Have you heard of such a thing?" "I have not," said the Dragonslayer. "It will bleed like any other creature." Faramund groaned. "And you, Ingwenyeth?" That startled the Fae, though she still would not take her eyes off the vegetable. "I beg thy pardon, Schriftsteller. This oddish apple hath trapped mine attention." "An ogre." "A name of familiar taste, though I never encountered such. Pray tell, what name doth this fruit possess?" Ingwenyeth looked up.
This irritated the knight. "That's just a potato. In what way familiar?" "Nothing much. The shape of a story." The answer came disinterested. "A game of death and wits awaits, befitting my birthplace Esterberg." "You know of the potato, good sir?" asked the merchant of Sir Reinald.
"My Order has partaken in this vegetable from far away from time to time." The Dragonslayer waved the question off. " There is nothing special about it." "Then thine Order dines in gold so often to think of it as water," countered Ingwenyeth.
"You will be disappointed if that is your expectation of potatoes." "The decision lies in the hands of those who have not suffered the curse of the new made mundane." Ingwenyeth smiled. "Make haste. Let us purchase a few and be on our way to face the foe on the bridge." It took them less than a day in total to arrive at a hill from which they could see the ogre's bridge. While the monster itself escaped their eye a beautiful rainbow welcomed them all into the clearing. A golden gate promising treasure with a drop of blood fallen on top intermixing with the yellow and flowing across the bow as much as it could.
Yet only Faramund was to spot the third part of the arrangement. A divine blue being as one with the sky carrying the golden gate in tranquillity less it would fall and break the clearing.
"I cannot fathom a beast living under this rainbow and choosing to kill," said Sir Reinald.
"It doesn't yet see the rainbow in full, I think," said Faramund. "If it is in possession of the Saint-Denis Blue we must merely reveal Heaven to it." "Of its treasure, we can be certain." Ingwenyeth perked up from a flower she was inspecting. "Dost the tug of fate not make itself known to thyself? A folly must be passed for a reward of equal proportion." "What if the ogre has already looked at the Blue?" asked Sir Reinald. "To my understanding, it would no longer be effective." Faramund nodded reluctantly as Ingwenyeth turned to him. "This foe is fought in the fashions of old. This battlefield is not for thee, Word-painter." So it was decided that Sir Reinald and Ingwenyeth would face the ogre. The knight armed with the holy sword Oncosomnia, the fae with nothing but her wits.
The two reached the bridge without issue. The beast was fast asleep. Navigating the space under the bridge without so much as a sound was of no issue to the two.
Unfortunately, the hoard itself would prove not quite so adept at staying silent.
They searched the treasure with utmost caution as the ogre's snoring reverberated through the bridge.
Finally, Sir Reinald found what they were looking for between some axe and a small black brick attached to a long rod of steel. It was a stone of blue Lapis Lazuli, hiding its heavenly Saint-Denis Blue behind a layer of cloth.
The Dragonslayer and the Fae nodded to each other. Ever so slowly the Knight began pulling on the rock. He was partway through when another snore reverberated through the hoard. As the treasure trembled, coins slipped into the small hole opened up by the knight's pull. At the rattle of the coins the ogre opened its eyes. Just a moment later it was on its feet and halfway to the Dragonslayer.
Sir Reinald pulled the cloth from the stone, the heavenly blue shining into the giant's eyes.
The ogre continued its rampage unimpeded, stopping shortly before the knight.
Translators note: what follows was written as rhyme in the original text. I have done my best to keep the essence of the rhyme as well as the characteristics of the dialogue.
Given that this encounter involved both a Fae and some kind of bridge ogre, it is not unlikely that the actual encounter, should there have been one, was also spoken entirely in this manner.
"Such noise you make, did you come here for my hoard?" "Would thou not welcome thy guests? We're the friendly sort." as Ingwenyeth answers, the beast grabs the knight.
"I could offer you dinner by candlelight." "A name will do." — "They call me Blind." "Thou will not tell a single lie to my kind." "You are what you eat, and I will eat you.
So tell me what is the name I will chew?" The knight with one motion to his mouth, he threw.
In return, Sir Reinald drew his holy sword, The ogre dodged Oncosomnia without saying a word.
"I'm the blue-stone-stealer" calls the Fae to draw his attention.
"A liar you are, now you will help my digestion." "It is the rule of my people to condone only on Three." "I have more than one dinner. That's fine by me." The ogre turns back to the food of his choosing, Reinald cannot keep up and is slowly losing!
"The sky is blue!" The Fae was hurrying.
"Not for you," The ogre said, eyes narrowing.
"One more lie, little butterfly." Reinald used the distraction and ran to the hoard, Once arrived, he drew… an axe, not a sword?
The ogre ran to him, the stone still in hand, Reinald cut it. The axe punched into grassland.
"I survive!" came a shout. "Is this now true?" The ogre considered. "No, I'll eat you." As the ogre gave chase, the knight saw the victory.
For in his hands lay lapis lazuli.
As Sir Reinald retreated to a hidden cave with Faramund, Ingwenyeth was still in pursuit.
It would be a full week before either of them would see her again.
"I have found what we were looking for." The knight gave him the stone fragment.
Faramund carefully took the shard, inspecting it. "Did it have the intended effect?" "On me, certainly. It strengthened my focus." Sir Reinald looked at the sky, now revealed to him as well in its heavenly blue. "But the ogre was unimpeded by it." "The revelation of Heaven is only temporary in effect," murmured Faramund. "It won't be long before you think Heaven has always been this way. Like the potato Ingwenyeth was so enamoured by. It doesn't take long to get used to the new." He put the stone away.
"Besides I do not imagine you tried to reason with the ogre." "No," Reinald acknowledged. "I will admit that trying to steal from it had turned the creature against us from the beginning." "Then that is something we will have to change, going forward," decided Faramund. "I'll be joining you next time, no matter the danger." "I don't think you could have changed much. This was a creature ruled by its wims." Sir Reinald thought for a moment. "It is not dissimilar to a dragon in this. We best keep in mind that while creatures so corrupted by their own evil could never be happy, they are still in a place of their choosing. I could sooner see a mountain moved than Borgarhjört abandoning his hoard." "We may not be able to move a mountain," said Faramunt. "but a change in Heaven sounds just as good for me." While little information is present here that would help stop the current Paradigm Shift, more details about the inner workings of the different shifts are revealed through this document. The current shift's primary vector of spread is the photograph. On the other hand, the Paradigm introduced in this document seems to have mainly spread via the usage of the colour in stained glass. The view of the Saint Denis Basilica caught on; the usage of the colour blue increased throughout Europe.
The repeated assertion that the exposed would soon forget the sky was ever a different colour is also of note. Should this hold true for the new Paradigm it may at the very least be easy to calm the infected after a brief period of unrest.
CASE SERIAL: SCP-4500-D-05 DATE: 20TH MARCH, 1935 FILE: The document was discovered by ASCI personnel as part of initial SCP-4500 exploration. Due to the ongoing transition from precursor organizations to the Foundation proper this file exists both in the ASCI as well as the Foundation archive under the same file number. It is suspected that the file was written between 60 and 50 BC and used the properties of the extradimensional space to be preserved until now.
NOTES: The document was part of a larger stack of documents labelled as "Trapped in the past, I must get stronger to stop time-travellers throughout the Roman world", but all other files are classified.
I could not request declassification for this matter as the name of the clearance seems to be classified as well.
The file seems to imply an altogether different composition of colour than we are used to today, as well as the repeated temporary removal of the colour purple throughout the last stretches of the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire.
All other context has been classified from ASCI and all Foundation Departments I was able to speak to, making the contents of it unverifiable.
What follows is a transcript of the original text which was notably composed in modern English.
Status Report.
All preparations for the first small-scale Purple Reversal Event have been completed.
Resistance is to be expected in accepted parayeah, I still won't do this.
The urge was a bit stronger this time, but I'm stronger so too bad.
Unfortunately, there isn't much else I can talk about then what you want to know. The city I had to go to, or municipium if you need to have it forced out of me, wasn't all that special. Not that I'd have expected more.
If Rome sucked then why should its lessers not?
I arrived like a week early and was actually stupid enough to fuss about every little thing.
It would have been smarter to not prepare at all, I think, but I was pretty nervous about the arrival. And I guess excited.
I don't have the feeling that I need to write about every little thing of prep here, so I won't. It was mostly illusions, but I also prepared some magic tricks in areas I'm not so specialized in.
Though I put most of my work into my light-catcher spell. Really wanted to catch the new colour the moment it appeared. Sure I have [Perfect Recall] and all, but that would have paled in comparison to actually having my colour again to play around with. Not this wan facsimile of a spectrum I have to deal with every day.
The day came and the four mayors, the quattuorviri, of the city, the municipium I don't care, decreed that no dye of Tyrian Purple would be allowed in the ci municipium. You wouldn't have noticed that this changed anything unless you looked at the person dressed in purple, not Tyrian though, who had just appeared moments before and rapidly lost all of that colour as the decree took hold.
Dido wearing the regal Tyrian Purple. Note the primitive rainbow in the background.
What an utter disappointment.
This had been my first chance to see real colour ever since I was transported into this time. And what was it? A soldier drenched entirely in some purple mud. With him, he had a purple gas mask, a purple backpack and a purple gun. Not an ounce of the many other beautiful colours of the modern world. Just. Purple.
And not even that you let me catch, because as soon as he manifested my Light Catcher spell was discarded and my body focused entirely on Elimination.
Even that encounter with the modern ended way too quickly. I had lifted far too many combat restrictions on myself for the hostile to stand any chance.
My body still left him in speaking condition after the encounter.
He told me that the Causality i, the name of their whole group or whatever, had a safehouse in this time period, if I ever had any 'doubts'.
It's impossible for me to think about what those doubts could be over, but thanks I guess.
He also told me another person arrived with him, which was much more important for my body. After that, he prayed to the Roman gods. I think that's pretty weird. These aren't our gods after all.
The fact that another hostile was out there gave me a bit of hope after the disappointment that was the first. It also meant I wouldn't have to deal with cleanup because a rogue time traveller is much more important.
The first hostile was surprisingly detailed about where his companion went. There was no way I could catch up to him at this point. Good.
Restriction lifted: Regional Teleport I have no idea why you made all magic restrictions so painful. If it's combat or knowledge it's just an information update, but each time I unlock more thaumaturgy it's like a rolling pin flattens my whole brain and then pressed back into a new shape. If your goal is to make me lift as few magic restrictions as possible then too bad. I'll open restrictions any chance I get.
This one increased my magic overall, along with giving me the knowledge of a teleport spell.
I used it to get out of the municipium and went back to the oh-so-beautiful Rome.
Somewhat fittingly it was raining when I arrived. My destination was the Temple of Apollo Medicus, which currently stood next to a mediocre rainbow.
Not even those looked correct in this time period. The world would not reveal more than 3 colours in the rainbow, lacking the spectrum to show its full glory. Not that anyone but me and the other time traveller could appreciate a full rainbow. For the people here it would be no more than a sign of the goddess Iris, unaware of the beautiful system of raindrops and light reflection that lets a rainbow shine.
There was one good thing about all of this. I had wanted to visit the temple of Apollo for a long time, but something else seemed more important whenever I wanted to go.
Was the escaped time traveller there for a similar reason? No clue.
The temple itself would be impressive for their standards, but I couldn't care less.
Remains of the temple I went in weaponized with an illusion to hide me behind a fabricated identity. I wasn't the only one using an illusion, however. The whole temple seemed to be under one. I tried to confuse it with a simple trick of light. The affected part of the illusion unravelled for a moment before reasserting itself. A god's work, most likely.
The Romans had a nasty habit of classifying magic into the mortal low magic, Goetia, and the divine high magic, Goetia. This would fall under the latter. They could call it what they wanted, even the high magic was primitive.
To get the colour needed for their illusions they had to source it directly from nearby elements. Fire for red and vines for green. But I know that all colours are simply part of white light. Breaking it apart with thaumaturgy and using the backlash to shape the remaining colours is trivial, so my illusions are superior to anything produced in this day.
I would simply project my illusions throughout the temple, pretending to follow the hidden outline of the temple, while I would occasionally disturb the illusion to catch a glimpse of the temple underneath the veil.
One of the things this temple was hiding for their more esteemed guests was a Haruspex, an oracle. An illusion close to the real me approached her as tradition demanded while I looked for the remaining hostile. He had to be somewhere in the temple.
The Haruspex took the sheep, oh yeah I stole a sheep for this, and someone slaughtered it for her. I prodded every inch of the illusion to see where the hostile was hiding as I asked my first question: "What is the Nightwatch?" The Haruspex didn't react to the unusually high voice of the man she saw, though her hands trembled as she felt the liver of the sheep up and down until she arrived at a missing chunk in it. She frowned as she answered: "Nightwatch is hidden from the gods." Typical. At the same time, I finally caught a glimpse of an out-of-place man haggling over some 12-sided die through the non-existent wall. I moved closer to it, not caring much that my voice wouldn't come from my original position.
"How can I make the gods take notice of my plight?" I threw a more normal question in, but it didn't seem to have worked. She gave off a weak smile as she presumably did something with the liver, while I was prodding the fake wall again. The hostile wasn't there anymore.
"You're also hidden. You must seek the old heart of the twelve to get their full attention." Pause. "I- I'm sorry, that's all I have." I don't know why she apologized. It's not like the Roman pantheon would have any power to alleviate what you did to me. My final question I whispered into the Haruspex ears.
"Is he threatening you?" I felt a sword at my throat, something sabrelike, not from here, and with it a voice.
"No, but you are." The walls shifted and the Haruspex ran away. I locked eyes with the hostile. At first glance, he looked like a normal soldier, but underneath the Roman armour, he wore a deel made of silk. Mongolian clothing and far from this era. Affiliated to the 'Golden Horde' then.
He was barely hiding who he was. Even the armour looked slightly off if you looked close enough. Most importantly the colour was different! Not by much, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.
Yet even that you would never let me keep.
It seemed he caught how I was putting his colours into memory because he tried to talk it out at first. I had a hard time understanding him because his Latin was very weird. He told me that I had eyes just like them. I think he meant you. That he bet I couldn't appreciate a rainbow. That I shouldn't bother with him, he was on his way back anyhow.
The last point was non-negotiable with my body. Plus I really wanted at least that bit of pre-modern colour he had on his red deel with gold embroidery.
The ensuing fight was harder than the first one. I can't tell you much more. None of the combat knowledge you injected me with really feels like mine. It just gets executed without my input.
What I can tell is that he could keep up with me even when I started using illusion magic.
Eventually, he put me in enough of a corner that two more combat restrictions were lifted.
After that, I could finally overwhelm him. I can't quite make sense of what he said then.
"If you want to be free, you really have to work with what's in your reach." Truth be told I had completely forgotten we were in a temple. Besides what would a temple focused on illusion and divination even do? Blinding me with the red roaring light of fire, dosed in the divinity of this era. It could not compare to the holy light I saw back in the present in all those movies and games. Still, the temple turned into an inferno I could do little against, while the hostile fled.
"You've already been told where to go." That was the last I had heard of him. I teleported out right after. There's no trace of the second hostile. I'm certain he travelled back to the future, otherwise his pre-modern colour would have spread.
There's really nothing going my way.
It will be ages till I get the next chance to meet real colour. It will take a few years for Caesar to get into power and make a more wide-reaching decree for the ban of the Tyrian Purple. The window is never all that big. Even in the municipium of the first event, I'm sure nobody will respect the ban past its second day.
Caesar's ban will allow more time-travellers to slip past. Still, they'll appear in that ugly purple soldier outfit, so what's the point?
But I have to do something.
The Haruspex was obviously talking about Mount Olymp. I've seen just a glimpse of the power of Apollo, but… No, they can't help me.
I'll look into that Safehouse instead, that both hostiles were talking about. It must be time-travel related in some way. Something is also telling me you wouldn't like it, but it's not against the mission, so I can still go. All the more of a reason.
Over and Out.
CONCLUSION: It is assumed that each "Purple Reversal" Event corresponds with a decree to either ban the dye of Tyrian Purple or restrict it to the Roman royal family. Just as these first events, the bans were often unsuccessful in restricting the popular but expansive dye, as the otherwise hard-to-recreate colour purple served as a status symbol.
These temporary shifts in the Paradigm bear little resemblance to the ongoing Paradigm Shift. No vector for the shift becomes clear in the report. The shift seems to start with the law and end with the effectiveness of it.
The ban of Tyrian Purple suggests a ban of the primary vector might reverse an occurring Paradigm Shift based on the thoroughness of the ban.
Number: 1183 Corresponds to Nx-50 in Foundation Files Kind: Liang Source: Artifact 1183 is the Five Stone Valley. The Heavens of the Valley are diffused with five ever-melting stones of the five major colours. Qing, Black, White, Red and Yellow. Everything that is touched by these colours will be closer to the Heavens.
Commentary: As all information we have of the Valley comes from a scroll produced by Artifact One this colour shift can not be dated. Yet the difference is evident. Blue and green exist as one in Qing and no mention of the colours outside the Five can be found.
Or perhaps there is no shift at all and the Valley still behaves as this? All the more reason to find it again. Surely it will be of aid against the current iteration of SCP-8901.
File: The following constitutes the entirety of records the Abnormality Institute possesses about the Valley.
It was when the Heavens were at their most distinct, two travellers entered the west hills of Five Stone Valley. Quickly they left the gate of the white-and-yellow rainbow behind.
The woman of the pair was worried. "What if we're too late?" The man of Kuiyang Sect calmed his companion. "You must only look at the Stone Nüwa had put into this patch of Heaven to see it is not so. The Heavens are in accord with the Valley." Nüwa and her brother patching the holes of the Heavens with Five Coloured Stones Indeed the Heaven over the west brimmed with the white liquid of the melted Stone as much as the hills. The truth of his words was further proven by the dim black of the east hills. The azure sky of the Qing Sect had overtaken all but the actual Stone.
They walked at a fast pace. None would detect the two. The man concealed their presence while the woman swiftly navigated the pair through their homeland.
Soon they were upon the main gates of the White Sect. They entered the wide halls of the White Tower with its walls of steel, under as much pressure as its inhabitants. Even on a floor so low as the entrance hall, one could see the White Stone melting directly above the tower.
They were not the only guests in attendance that day. The alliance which had crushed the Black Sect were there, a Master of Qing and a Master of Red. To the side stood a small hooded congregation unfamiliar to all, seeking audience of the lord of the house.
The White Master sat as a pillar of marble deep in concentration. Towering over them all, if not in size, then in presence. Even while granting audience to two sect masters he would not completely halt his meditation.
Yet it was not the sect masters, but the two travellers who caught his attention. The Master of the White Sect spoke: "I see the thief who has stolen my daughter has returned with the goods. For this, no ire shall befall you provided she remained pure." "I have not come to return to your side, honourable father, but to warn you of a threat.
The Golden Horde is nearly upon us, just 25 Li away. There is no point in striving against another when a foe outside our ranks seeks to destroy us." The face of her father was as metal, flat and cold. "Your warning is useless to us, little Fenghua. The Golden Horde has always wanted to conquer this valley, but the Nightwatch ensures they may never find it." Fenghua was distraught. Not even the army on horseback would make them consider matters outside their little valley, so transfixed were they on their inner squabbles.
Thinking common courtesy done, the father ordered the man arrested and his daughter retrieved. To this, the man of Kuiyang Sect said: "Of you, only the one shall stand against me who has seen a rainbow with more colours than the two-coloured which gate your heavens." The order of arrest was swiftly averted. The people of Five Stone Valley were deeply in tune with the Heavens yet time and time again their efforts had been eclipsed by Outsiders who were merely visiting the Valley for training.
The capture of his daughter proved just as difficult. No man could move Bai Fenghua, no matter how hard his soldiers pushed and pulled.
It was not a stand purely of metal as one would think of the White Sect. There was earth mixed into it.
Indeed there was a yellow tint to the daughter's otherwise pale-leaning face.
"This daughter wishes to make amends," spoke Fenghua yet unmoving. "I shall reveal a traitor in our midst." The father's fury was only visible to those who long knew him. "Two traitors at least, you must reveal to be pardoned, for you have betrayed me twice. Once by running away and twice by mudding the purity of steel with a yellow technique. Have you forgotten to fear the man who practised one technique ten thousand times over the one who practised ten thousand techniques?" "Yet the woman who devoted one hundred to a second technique will see the other nine hundred of their first elevated." Fenghua knew the truth in this. Hers was a metal technique through and through, taking any strikes head-on. All the earth added served as reinforcement of the metal.
A third voice was added to the fray. "If you allow me honourable father, I will retrieve her for you." It was Beili, the Master's most beautiful jewel. Her cultivation of the White Stone was strong, for she was as pale as the moon. Her father preferred her to be presented rather than fought, but he relented.
And so it came that the two sisters traded blows. Yet beyond mere blows there was understanding. They were sisters of battle and mere punches and kicks formed a language. Fenghua asked. Beili understood.
An observer might have thought what happened next mere accident. Their fight took them across the hall to one of the few other colours used in the White Sect, a black to contrast the white.
Just as coincidental as the paint was acquired it was sprayed across the Red Master.
For black to act to red as water acted to fire was clear to all, yet a mortal should not have started to hiss as the Red Master did.
The hall was silent in their shock. The demon, strengthened from the breach in trust, attacked the two who had revealed him. Many thought this the end of Fenghua.
Beili was far in the white techniques of metal. Few things would break her skin. So while she was up against fire, it was agreed she would survive until the master intervened. Yet Fenghua prevailed.
Why would she have undergone tribulation by the man of Kuiyang Sect if not to overcome a difference in colour?
So they both stood against the demon's strikes. With black paint and coordination, they overcame the monster hiding in the Red Master's corpse.
As soon as the demon had been dealt with, the Master of Qing bowed with his forehead to the ground. Waging war against the Black Sect who had denied them resources bargained for was one thing, but working with a demon? Even bringing it into a meeting for peace. These were grave insults which would cost the Qing Master all he had gained in this short-lived campaign. He apologized to the utmost degree.
The alliance was as good as over. The Red Sect would have a fallout of their own, grappling with the fact their Master had been replaced by a demon. No wonder now, why a sect so intent on happiness and passion had suddenly chosen the warpath.
"Now the Valley will return to what it once was." So spoke the White Master.
"The Valley cannot return to its prior state." The hooded figures broke decorum and stepped into the room unannounced. "You have entertained us with your fights, so allow us to return the favour. The Yellow Sect was behind the demon. They will challenge you once more in their attempt to broaden the centre." "Who are you to speak as such about our fellow sects?" demanded the White Master.
Fenghua gasped as the hooded figures revealed themself. For it was the very Golden Horde she had warned against. "I thought you 25 Li away." "Then that is where we will be. I suppose we cannot travel further back." The people of the Horde had the complexion of Outsiders spending much time in the valley. Yet their appearance was rich in more than one colour of the valley. They bowed. "We greet you for our last and first meeting." The White Master would not let shock show on his face. "I will report you to the Nightwatch." The delegation laughed. "You will try. I will not let you. This tunnel to before must remain open. Even as limited as it is." No refutation was possible, for the White Sect had already shown it would not lay hand on Outsiders.
"We will leave you to your war with yellow then." "Let us leave with you," spoke Fenghua. "I will leave to find the strength that might return balance to the valley." Her father was displeased once more. "You would betray me again now at the cusp of war? No, you will stay." "Yes, for now, I have revealed two traitors to you. Per your own words, I am pardoned." Her father frowned, but honour forbade him to disagree. No such thing held Fenghuas tongue now. "All of you have stagnated. Thinking closeness to one Stone the pinnacle of achievement. Here we are carried by the Five entirely while the Outsider has their self- earned power amplified by the Stones. There is knowledge out there that will strengthen our connection to the Heavens and I will find it." She bowed. "I bid you farewell, father." Fenghua left with the man of Kuiyang Sect and the delegation of the Golden Horde.
They parted ways with the delegation at the edge of the Five Stone Valley, confined by the only rainbow gate of all five colours.
Soon they left the richest of rainbows behind, adventures lurking under new horizons.
Further Commentary: Other than my college I do not think this nexus holds the answers to this crisis. If the Abnormality Institute could not find it through all their years then neither can we. I do not think it possible for the nexus to hold more than itself against any shift. One must assume it is too insular for its colours to reach beyond its bounds in the present.
Besides it seems even this valley could not escape a gradual drift of colour. Why else would the Golden Horde not travel further back?
Our colours have changed. White is no longer purely there to mourn, but also to wed.
The once neutral black now colours the uniform of the modern professional. I'm sure in the past all of China could witness the Five-coloured Heavens and yet in the present the sky is blue.
The R. H. Commission on Unusual Cargo Authorized by the O5 Council who supersedes said Commission Interpretation Manifest 6007 Curator: Commissioner DanielJefferson Storage Instructions: Storage is neither possible nor necessary. The sole task of the last Commissioner is to store the documents on the Manifest.
Cargo Description: The cargo was an island encountered by the crew of the Second Chance. The island in question had many intriguing qualities to it and is more famous to the Foundation at large for its role as part of the 13 Island Incident. However of current import is only the multiple paradigms of colour encountered on it, as well as the person seemingly capable of containing each paradigm. It is without a doubt the best evidence so far of the historic shifts in colour and may prove vital in combating its most recent occurrence.
Curator Thomas Poole provided multiple letters about the events on the island after the Second Chance's long journey home was concluded in the year 1645 AD. I have provided the excerpt concerning the island in question.
We had scarcely left the waters of Great Britain when we encountered the island. The change was gradual but immediately apparent.
The moon slowly moved over the sun, until it was firmly locked in place directly before it.
All the while the waters grew wild. Try as we might we could not resist the pull of the sea. It was dragging us directly towards an island that had first appeared on the horizon when the moon began its treacherous journey. Though I harbour suspicions that it was never our moon covering the sun.
As we were pulled closer, the darkest moon dragged its prisoner closer to the zenith. We were lucky to not have been pulled on shoar. The current did not so much slow down as it ran face-first into another current opposing it. And so the Second Chance finally came to a hold.
Our crew split in two, one group staying, and the other exploring the island in hopes of finding a clue to our predicament.
The oddities of the island began at the shoar. This was no proper beach. It could not decide if it wanted to be the desert's soft sand, the swamp's muddy shores or the cliff's hard stones. It was all three and yet it was neither.
The second discovery was that we were not alone. Many a people had arrived simultaneously with us and yet countless more would come. With certainty, I could only identify the legionnaires of the Ancient Romans and the Knights of the French of likely centuries past. Yet there was something peculiar about each of them.
They were drenched in lights that should not be. Each group spouted a different set of colours I had never witnessed before. Unspeakable abominations before the eyes of the Lord. A keener eye than mine had also observed the properties of the beach to be of the same colours as its people. Not all of it, a sliver remained normal.
I wish I could state our first reaction to be the establishment of conversation to solve our shared plight. It is with regret I must write, we went to weapons instead. Each of us viewed the other as a manifestation of this madness. How could we not, with their colours so abominable?
We established the sliver of real beach as our territory as did the others with theirs. This standstill remained until the last arrival on the island.
I cannot tell where they came from, but they appeared without their own part of beach.
They came with their horses. A sizable group of elite warriors, most of them Mongols.
The Commission had heard of this group. The Golden Horde.
As swift as they appeared they went to conquer the island. A few people they defeated for their territory. But with the rest, they talked. It was only the second largest surprise they brought when they communicated with everyone without much difficulty.
I must admit we faced greater troubles in this endeavour. Latin may have drifted, but talks could still be established with the Romans. Yet the Horde could not only boast of the many languages they could talk with a surprising fluency, but also the ease with which they rendered unknown languages understood. Their interpreting was performed at a speed that I would almost call akin to speaking the language in the first place.
Yet the biggest surprise they brought with them was their claim to know the way of the island. They would barter for it, they said. They were looking for recruits and for something they would not disclose in the open.
They set up their yurts. Other groups would send a single delegate to enter the yurt of the leader to barter. Was it a Khan? I can not be sure. So little is known about the Horde.
The reason for a single delegate lay in the danger of intermingling. They did not mind, expressed the delegate of the Horde. But Nightwatch would.
As for us, we were not yet at a point we would barter. I have my doubts that our captain would have ever sunken so low. Think about what they could possibly want from us.
Clearly, it would have to be our cargo, was the reasoning. And if not, what else could we give? Our secrets? Just as unacceptable of a loss as the cargo would be.
Maybe the Nightwatch, some of the crew debated. The Captain denied this. All we knew was the Nightwatch had a deal with The Board of Regents. A Carte Blanche that shall not be interfered with. And they were watching us from a star moving faster than others, which would occasionally blink in and out. Not enough to batter for someone who seemed to know what would enrage the Nightwatch.
Curiously this star was one of the few which stood consistent over this strange dark sky.
All other constellations moved or vanished, depending on your position.
Our captain had sent single delegates out to other groups. It was through this measure we were able to confirm the stars corresponded to the brightest points of different constellations. Each befitting a constellation of the home and time a people had been whisked away from.
Most curiously no stars were visible from the centre of the island, as one would expect from a normal eclipse. Here the moon stood in its zenith, surrounded by a ring of light unlike anything I have ever seen. To say this ring shone in different colours would be both false and right. Only white light was given off.
Yet it was far from pure. Only a small section of it remained in the white I had known all my life. Everything else was drenched in whites impossible to imagine. Little would be gained from studying it in our situation.
As we returned, some people had already bartered with the Horde, though they had not yet departed. As expected some had decided to stay with them. Those traded away were quickly whisked away into other tents.
The traders were not keen on telling us information free of charge, so it remains unknown what the other thing the Horde was trading for might be. Though I have my suspicions.
Either way, we would still not be among those barterers. Next, we would research the currents. Since we had landed the island had started to be surrounded by fogbows, those rainbows bleached off colour. We quickly found ours. There it stood in white illumination. Like a gate welcoming us home.
As we did our research others grew restless. The Romans and some Chinese people had decided they would pry the Mongols of their knowledge not by barter but by the sword.
They shook hands for their pact.
The effects were immediate. They intermingled. Of those that came in contact with each other both sets of colours mixed. Some seemed shocked at this, but most were set on their goal of usurping the Horde.
The Golden Horde took action on their own. All but the new recruits, still hidden away I assume, got on horseback. Yet they were not preparing for the Roman-Chinese alliance.
The Horde prepared as if an empty space in front of them would attack at any moment.
Then that space filled.
In it appeared a man.
He was wearing a grey suit of a strange cut. With him was a dog out of metal, similarly in grey. Their colours suited the colours I was used to, but looking at them left me with a feeling more uncanny than any other new colour I had witnessed that day. All these groups at least wore their wrongness on their sleeve.
These two gave me the feeling they had 'slipped on' the right colour set to hide their true nature. When the man spoke it was likewise with an English accent foreign to anything in this world.
"Affirmative. NIGHTWATCH-send coordinates align with my perception. Commence elimination of the detection anomaly." As soon as the man in grey had finished talking, his hound of metal shot rays of pure black. Its target was the alliance and all who had intermixed their colours. It covered them under a coat of the darkest black I had ever witnessed. Dark enough no contour was visible. There were muffled screams under the coat, followed by silence.
He then turned to soldiers of the Horde, who had their weapons still ready.
"Why are you still here? You should know by now this is no place to bury your Khan." "Of course," the leader replied. "but there is still time to enjoy ourselves after our mission is done, you hear me?" The strange man eyed them with suspicion. "There is nothing to enjoy here." "You don't find this place the tiniest bit fascinating?" "Of course not. The 13 Island Incident has been thoroughly researched." At this, the leader laughed. "You would say that. You have lost your eyes despite having so many of them." For a brief moment, the grey of the stranger slipped. Beneath it, the true colours of the creature were revealed. Just for a moment, I could witness this offence to the world, trying to dominate over all, before it tapped on its suit and the grey reasserted itself on the 'man'.
Then it turned to us.
"Cargo personnel. You have everything you will gather here. Leave at once." The captain was brave enough to ask for confirmation. Was this thing truly of the Nightwatch?
"Of the Nightwatch? I suppose you could say that." We did as we were told and got ready to leave. We got dark looks from the Horde as the thing ordered us around, but the stranger seemed intent not to act, now with all intermixing gone.
It took a bit longer to get the ship ready. In essence, we had already grasped which current would take us out. Still, we needed to make sure our theory was correct.
Finally, everyone was on board and we slipped out of the side of the two currents trapping the Second Chance. We had made some distance to the island before a voice brought it back.
"You haven't bartered with us." There were horses on the ship.
I do not know how the Golden Horde, or rather a small delegation of it, had managed this impossible feat. I suppose this is par for the course for this strange group. As we had lost our chance to barter in goods, it seemed the Mongols were now intent on bartering with blood.
They quickly overwhelmed us. How could they not? None of our men are trained to fight horsemen on board.
Yet the most peculiar thing was mentioned to me by one of our crewmates. As they were fighting, one of the horsemen cut off our crewmate's hair while another captured the stolen hair in a sack nearly as black as the metal hound's ray in the same swoop.
Shortly after, the fighting ended. The Horde departed as quickly as it came. I was able to ask a question of the last one before he departed as well.
I asked of him if our suspicions were correct, now that our barter had been paid. I asked if we had to sail through the fogbow of our white.
He laughed at me. "It's just a rainbow. They don't mean anything for all this. One is as good as the other." And then he left.
We still elected to return through the fogbow drenched in the right white. Better to be safe than sorry.
Indeed we did arrive back home. A good century before our departure.
Manifest Remarque The spread of the paradigm by touch lines up with the secondary vector of spread in the current Paradigm Shift. Though curiously the colours here intermingled instead of one Paradigm winning out over the other. Let us assume this a property of the island.
Far more promise can be found in this "NIGHTWATCH". While the Board of Regents of old seemed to have been aware of it, no records of relation to this organization remain.
The text shows a technology capable of stopping the Paradigm shift via containment of contaminated elements. Unfortunately, I do not think it possible to reverse-engineer this technology based on this text alone. Cooperation with this NIGHTWATCH might be required for such a thing.
Manifest 8901 (E): Chronicles of the British Society of Vampires The following document is part of a book which constitutes the spoils of the only successful raid His Majesty's Foundation had against the áu upiri giáhen, a vampire organisation of Daevite origin. Earlier sections of the book imply it to not be written by hand but rather by a process of direct information extraction.
It details the entire time a matriarch in training spent at a school of the Houses of Merlin sometime after Sir Isaac Newton's death in 1727. She did so by impersonating a student who had previously been assassinated. No records of the Houses of Merlin exist in our archive so we must assume the group to have been wiped out completely during or before the Sixth Occult War.
The Paradigm Shift in this last document is the invention of the visible spectrum by Sir Isaac Newton. The decline of alchemy as a practice supports the claims made by the report. It follows the relevant excerpt from the retrieved book.
The day started normal enough. Mary was characteristically early, but not early enough to be of note. It was best to catch new information early in the morning. Today, she was reconsidering this approach as it would undoubtedly result in Dustin confronting her.
An obvious choice was to be there after Dustin, but for all he liked the school, he tended to be late. Maybe he would be late again? She couldn't risk it.
Although she didn't like using the same spellcraft that had brought her into this situation, she saw little choice. She searched for a corner that was not too far away from the chatter of her classmates and subtly darkened it. When she was done, no one could see a person standing there.
Dustin arrived a minute before the teacher, searching for Mary. He did eye the corner she was hiding in suspiciously while the teacher was ushering her students in. She waited until he was in the room before leaving her corner. Nothing worthwhile had been in the chatter in the end.
Ms. Stemham began before all students had been seated. "On what note did we leave the last lesson? " Only one student raised her hand. "Ms. Alnwick?" "We completed the second step of the classical alchemical process: Albedo," said Lilly.
She cocked an eyebrow at Mary who had just slipped into her seat, but didn't ask any questions.
"That is correct." Ms. Stemham continued. "Today we will continue with Citrinitas, the yellowing. While some of you will have noticed discrepancies with the theory it is only now that you will be confronted with the consequences of Newton's Realignment. But first, take out your prima materia." Dutifully the students all brought out their whitened prima materia from their bottles, except Michael who had tried storing it in a small extradimensional pocket with questionable results.
The teacher explained the process of the yellowing. Ideally, as they acted on the prima material more and more of it would turn yellow, until only yellow light remained, marking the materia's transition to the immaterial.
"You will have to start choosing now what you want your philosopher's stone to do," said Ms. Stemham. "Most of the shaping will be done in the next stage, but Rubedo requires Citrinitas as a ground plan." Mary pondered this. What should her philosopher's stone be for? Maybe get rid of Dustin? A death she would rather avoid. It might complicate her stay here and she could always just ask Kaesauvaonfai anyway.
Perhaps a potion that makes you forget? Might be too complicated, but it was a goal. It would be a magic potion in any case. If only her material would be turning the right yellow already.
"This is so boring," lamented Mary. "Can't we do something more Witch-like? We should be using a cauldron instead of all this fancy equipment." Lilly rolled her eyes. "This is what witches are using. Cauldrons aren't good for anything.
You're certainly not making a philosopher's stone with one." Mary groaned. "How can you be from a family of actual witches and be so," she gestured with her hands, "not witch-like." "You're the one that has a weird image of what a witch is supposed to be," countered Lilly.
"No, I haven't." Mary turned away from her work. "Witches should be doing crazy stuff all the time. Like cursing a man that was not nice to his cat. Or, I don't know uh, turning demons into powder and then inhaling it." "That's ridiculous." Lilly turned back to her tasks and tuned Mary out. She wondered which of her statements had been close to the truth. Lilly always stonewalled her when she was getting too close to asking her about her family's magic.
Not that Mary could blame her. She probably kept a tighter leash on her secrets than any of the Houses of Merlin did. That the houses released enough that the school could be held in the first place was a miracle. Oh right, the lesson.
She turned back to her now relatively yellow, and physically reduced, prima material.
The yellow still wasn't right. It was what Ms. Stemham had meant with Newton's Realignment. Ever since 'the last alchemist', as some liked to call him, had invented the colour spectrum, the alchemical process had lost its purity. How could you do the yellowing precisely when there was more than one yellow?
Mary glanced at the yellow on the other desks. Then, as discreetly as possible, she Lied to her prima material and told it what colour it was supposed to be. Now she had a perfectly average result in front of her. Exactly as you would expect from an heir of the House Mediaen.
"I see that for many of you, the conceptualization isn't proceeding as hoped." Ms.
Stemhad didn't seem too disappointed. "Luckily along with the problems of the Realignment Newton also left us with the tools to circumvent it. Our oracle has forecast a perfect rainbow tomorrow not too far from here. I would be a shoddy teacher to let such an opportunity go to waste." On the next day, Mary woke up early as always. Kaesauvaonfai had not appeared in front of her. Neither had her guardian vampire left a letter. She sighed in relief. They were not aware of her letting a secret slip then. She should resolve the problem today before the Society took notice.
They'd first have normal classes before going on the trip in the afternoon. Nothing of note happened in the classes outside of Mary having to continuously slip away from Dustin's attention. He was way better at finding her than he ought to be.
When the last class was done, Mary did her best to rush out as soon as possible.
"What's the rush for?" asked Lilly.
"I still have to buy a spindle!" came the hurried answer. The magic spindle was something that each of them needed to bring to the trip. The school sponsored basically nothing when it could instead fall back on the families always overeager to outdo each other even for something as trivial as school supplies. Neither the House of Mediaen nor her actual family had deigned to give her a spindle, however. Not that she asked the latter in the first place.
"Hold on, I'm coming with you." Dustin stood up. She turned around. "What, do you also need a spindle?" — "Yeah." Damn it. Looks like there was no way out of this one without looking like an asshole. So all she said was "Sure, but hurry up. We need to be back by 1'o clock." Mary didn't strike up a conversation as they walked to the store she had in mind. She waited just until Dustin wanted to ask his question before cutting him off. "Why do you need a spindle? Shouldn't your family cover that?" "Ah, well." Dustin was a bit uncomfortable. Good. "The Farbridges put a lot into this school, so they expect the school to cover its activities." "But it can't?" "No, it can." Dustin sounded a little miffed. "I just don't want to be the only student who gets his spindle from the school." Ah, that made sense. "I bet it will even be one my parents made. But enough of that, where are you bringing us?" "There's a shop not far from here that sells all kinds of curiosities. They definitely have a spindle." "What house do they belong to?" asked Dustin. It was always funny how the English mages seemed to think nothing existed outside their small little world.
"No house." Before Dustin could ask his follow-up question, she added: "And yes, they know about the magic." Dustin seemed more uncomfortable to go now, but it was sadly not enough to escape the conversation she was dreading.
"I've been meaning to ask" — "Don't," She warned him.
Dustin only took that as the confirmation he had been looking for. "So it was you. You removed the magic beast's magic before it hit the teacher, didn't you?" Mary did not let any emotion show on her face. "I don't know what you mean." "Why are you trying to hide it? That must have been a great Counterspell!" It hadn't been. How much she wished that she had trained her Lying enough for another student not to notice it the second she attempted a larger Lie.
"I don't know, Dustin," she snapped at him. "Maybe you didn't notice, but the Houses rather like to keep their magic tricks to themselves. On principle, I mean," she hurriedly added.
"That's the whole point of the school. Finally letting our fences down so the Houses can be greater together." "The Farbridges and the Merryways are the only ones that believe in the school.
Everyone else thinks it's not going to last even a generation. Hells, we just had a sabotage attempt that was clearly meant to disestablish the school." "I just worry we'll be outpaced. If you—" Thankfully they had arrived at the shop and Mary stormed inside before Dustin could continue.
"Ah, Ms. Mediaen. And I see you brought company this time." She was greeted by an old Asian man.
"Hello, Mr. Sartaq." The man ignored her and focused on Dustin. "Do you know who Genghis Khan is?" Dustin was confused. "Yes?" Sartaq sighed. "Well, have to do my duty. What can I do for you?" "We're searching for spindles." "What kind of spindle?" Dustin scratched his head. "One that can spool things a normal spindle can't? Our teacher didn't give us much information." "It's obviously to get pure colours," Mary countered. "We don't need to spindle thoughts or something." Sartaq laughed. "I have those as well. Sadly not for sale." "Sure you do," Maria rolled her eyes. "Why'd you have something so valuable and then not sell it?" "Well the Horde left me here to take care of them," he started, as he went presumably to retrieve the spindles. "There is someone who really doesn't want us to find a way to change our colour. They want us to just move forward in time and as long as we'll have our mission we'll do that. But one day we'll be done and no Watch will keep us from crashing through their coloured walls and go whenever it pleases us." Dustin looked confused at Mary, who was used to the old man's tales by now.
"We're all born free, kids," Sartaq had returned with two spindles in hand. "Let no one ever take that away from you." Mary rolled her eyes at the old man's 'wisdom'. Then she got a look at the clock. The trip!
They paid for their spindles and ran back to the school as fast as their legs carried them.
They arrived in time just to leave again for their trip to the rainbow.
Mary had to catch her breath a bit, but then she was back to her usual self. "Why don't we just fly there?" "What, on a broom?" asked Lilly, amused.
"Yes!" — "There's a whole host of reasons why that doesn't work and I think you know that." — "Easy, for you to say. You could actually fly there." — "I would like to make this trip in my body and not just one of an animal I burrowed." And so they went on.
Finally, they arrived at the hill from which the prophesized rainbow was supposed to be seen. There it stood, the still image of thousands of moving raindrops projected onto them, in all of Newton's colours. Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet.
As soon as they could all see the rainbow Ms. Stemham continued her lesson. "The Citrinitas phase can be helped along by providing a material that has the correct shade of yellow, or red in the case of Rubedo. Who can tell me what problem this causes? Yes, Ms. Mediaen?" "By introducing material other than the prima materia into the process we're contaminating it, making it useless for the alchemical process." "That is correct." Ms Stemham nodded. "That is why we won't be using material to fix your Citrinitas. You have brought your spindles today to unweave this rainbow." Modern Recreation of a Rainbow Unweaving They went to work. Each student set to spool only the yellow and red bands of the rainbow with their spindle. Ms Stemham spooled the six other colours. Mary wondered what for. Perhaps there was already a new alchemical process in the works, more befitting the world the Last Alchemist had left them with.
They quickly exhausted the full worth of the rainbow and so set their sight on the second much less visible one. It was not much light each student had harvested in the end, but it would probably do for their first shoddy philosopher's stone.
Still, even this method to save the alchemical process must have been hard to find. Mary thought about whether or not it had been a group effort like the school. Probably. There must have been a lot of people, probably including Newton himself, scrambling to fix the science of a bygone era. And it worked. Someone had clearly shared their secret at least, if now a whole class could be taught this method.
She looked at Dustin, who currently shared some of his light with another student.
Maybe this didn't have to end with her poisoning Dustin. All she had to do was create the Counterspell Dustin thought she had cast, instead of Lying. That couldn't be too hard, could it?
It is to be noted that documentation of this Paradigm Shift is just as limited as documentation about any of the other Paradigm Shifts outlined here, despite the presumably worldwide consequences of Newton's invention of the spectrum. This leaves further credence to the theory that there is some element to these shifts which causes them to be forgotten.
Far more terrifying is the possibility of the Paradigm Shift being accompanied by a change in physics as evidenced by this change in alchemy.
Yet there is hope in the fact the old ways of alchemy could persevere. Perhaps we too can find a way to preserve that of the Paradigm before?
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SCP-8901 Event concerning a single individual > Suggested Actions by Precursor Archives .
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Proposal Status Research the current and past SCP-8901 events for antimemetic effects resulting in ennui regarding the event.
APPROVED Ban the primary vector of spread of the current SCP-8901 event, namely the coloured photograph and associated technology.
DENIED Increase efforts in locating Nx-50 "Five Stone Valley" in hopes of replicating its assumed paradigm shift-resistant effect.
APPROVED Establish contact with the organization behind NIGHTWATCH and trade for their paradigm containment technology.
DENIED Research methods of preserving individual objects of the current paradigm in their current state.
APPROVED Reasons for Denial: [Δ/8901 CLEARANCE REQUIRED] Note: The most recent event of SCP-8901 has been given the designation SCP-8900- EX. See the corresponding file for any implemented solutions derived from the material in this file.
« SCP-8900 | SCP-8901 | SCP-8902 » ‡ Licensing / Citation Cite this page as: "SCP-8901" by Ethagon, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/ scp-8901. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.
For information on how to use this component, see the License Box component. To read about licensing policy, see the Licensing Guide.
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