 Addendum 1730.6 Received Audio Transmission The following audio transmission was picked up on monitoring equipment on the morning of February 1, 2016. The transmission, both speech and an encrypted signal that followed, has been repeating on a continuous loop since it was first detected. The contents of the transmission are accessible below. Hello, my name is Dr. Mohammed Scott, and I am a researcher within the SCP Foundation's Site 13 Temporal Studies Division. Myself and my team were abandoned within Site 13 during a recent catastrophic event, the full details of which we do not know. We are currently surrounded by hostile entities and other hazardous anomalies. Of the original 30 members of my team, only 12 remain. To any Foundation operatives listening on this channel, we are asking for assistance. Our supplies are dangerously low, as is our ammunition. Without aid, it is unlikely that we will last more than another month. Following this message will be an encrypted, adjusted CMS transmission. The cipheral boat was standard 1980s Foundation technology. The information within that transmission will contain our location, as well as we can describe it. The transmission is wired by Deadman's switch to myself, and will be played on a continuous loop until such time that I die. Please help us. Thank you. Addendum 1730.7 Updated Exploration Memorandum In light of recent information gathered by Foundation surveillance teams, it has been deemed pertinent to once again send exploration and recovery teams into Site 13. By order of Overwatch's command, SCP-1730's containment procedures have been updated. Mobile Task Force TAL-5, SAMSARA, is currently under consideration for deployment. Details to follow. Addendum 1730.8 Exploration and Recovery Log Transcripts Exploration Video Log Transcript Date ██ Exploration Team Mobile Task Force Apollo-3 Game Wardens Subject SCP-1730 Team Lead AP-3 Ross Team Members AP-3 Houston AP-3 NOAA AP-3 OHALO AP-3 VEGO Begin Log Radio's live, everybody good? Hang on, 60 seconds to insertion. Copy VEGO, you good? Yeah, I got it. We set? We're good. Alright, stay cool, keep your lights on. If you see anything suspect, hit your visors, and give everyone else the heads up. Remember, the internal topography of this place is unstable, so there's a pretty good chance we'll get separated. If we do, stay put until the place stabilizes, and somebody will come pick you up. Use your broadcasters if nobody's responding, and shoot anything at moves. Unless it's one of us, probably. Then definitely shoot. Team Laughs 30 seconds to insertion. Houston, you take lead. Our information suggests this entrance leads down a pretty long staircase, but there shouldn't be any other doors we encounter until we hit the bottom, so we should be more or less safe until we get there. Got it? Got it. Any other questions? Oh halo, you're quiet back there. I'm good boss. Alright, that's what I want to hear. 10 seconds to insertion. Here we go. Game Wardens, you are clear to begin operation. Let's roll. Team enters SCP-1730. As expected, initial interior space is a long descending staircase. AP-3 Houston takes lead. Team, we're monitoring you from here, but let us know if you hear, see, or experience anything unexpected. Copy. Team descends for three minutes. Interior of SCP-1730 is unlit, with the only luminescence coming from the shoulder mounted lights of MTF-AP-3. How we looking? Pretty good, we… See a door up here on the landing. I see it. Alright, that's unfortunate. Oh halo, Noah, keep an eye on our backs when we pass it, hang on. Team stops the landing. AP-3 Houston tries the door, but it is locked. There's air blowing underneath the door here. See where the dust kicked up? Yeah, Vigo, let's see that thermal camera. Alright, hang on. Here it is. 10 seconds silence. Yeah, no, I don't… Not even going to begin to fuck with that, let's keep going. Team lead, you copied everything alright? Uh, yeah, we're good, still descending. Affirmative, just got some static, wanted to make sure you were good. Team continues to descend for three more minutes. Light, look. Yeah, Command Earth will light up ahead. Might be our exit, eyes open. Team descends for two minutes. Shit. Whoa, what the fuck is that? God damn it. Alright, Command, be advised that the bottom of the stairwell is just missing. I don't know where the light we saw is coming from, but we go down about three more steps and we're in some sort of void. I don't see a bottom to it. Copy that, hang tight, Team, we're taking a look at this. What if we drop something in it? See how far down it goes. I mean, I can see how far down it goes, and it sort of looks like forever. AP-3 Ohio shrugs. Game wardens, go ahead and proceed back up. We'll see about another insertion point. Damn it. It's alright, we'll just… Ross, look, it's not a void, it's a liquid. It's just not reflecting light. Light at all. It's pitch black. Looks sort of like water. Hang on. Yeah, we're not gonna fuck with that either. Command, how far are we to the bottom of the stairwell? One moment. You're about 15 meters below, we'll re-expect to the stairwell to end. Stellar. The photography is off here. Let's head back up a ways to see if we can find a different exit. Team lead, hold position for a moment. We're trying to determine your location right now. Hey Chief. Hold on. No look, it's… Shut up, I'm… Oh fuck, it's rising. Shit, alright boys, time to go. Fuck. Black liquid begins to quickly rise behind MTF AP-3. Team moves quickly up the stairwell in relative silence. It's gating on us. Fuck, come on. Jesus Christ, I… Houston, grab him. Ross, help. Shit, don't. My legs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My legs. I… There's another door up here. Hurry. Hang on. Team enters door on the next landing. Door is slammed closed. Holy Jesus, what happened to his legs? Shit, Houston. Are you… I uh… Wait. What? What's happening? Do you read us? Yeah, sorry command. That all happened quickly. Houston fell coming up the stairs and his legs got covered in that… stuff. And now they're just gone. One clean cut, like they weren't there. I can actually still feel them guys, like… I can see they're not there, but it doesn't hurt, and I think I can stand up. What the fuck? AP-3 Houston proceeds to stand up. He is missing his legs from the knees down, but appears to be floating as if they were still there. AP-3 Vega waves his hand underneath Houston's legs, which passes through the space unimpeded. Uh… Alright, so there's that. You aren't hurting, Houston? Nothing feels different. Okay, that's fucking crazy. Command, do we know anything about this? Negative. Alright, let's keep going then. Command, it looks like we're in a maintenance hallway or something similar. We've got pipes running up and down the walls, gauges and such. It's pretty warm here. They're on the wall. What happened to Site-13? It's a recurring phrase that keeps showing up written on the walls here, Command. Do we know that's not a meme? It isn't. None of the studies we ran uncovered any anomalous effects related to that phrase. We're still not sure why we keep finding it, though. Noted. Down this hall. Team continues in silence for four minutes. There at this time AP-3 know his camera disconnects suddenly. This information would not promptly relay to the Task Force. There's something up ahead, see? They're at the corner. Is that a person? Approach with caution, safety's off. Team approaches target in silence. Upon reaching target, video feed shows a severely disfigured, rotted human corpse, aged unknown, partially conjoined to the wall behind it. Several other spatial distortions are evident nearby, such as the ceiling and wall appearing to pull back into each other. But this is unnoticed by AP-3. Ah, shit. Good to finally see a familiar face. Guys, it's just Zachary. Thank God, Zachary. How'd you get down here? Silence. Us too, man. This place is fucked up. Look at my fucking legs, man. Look at this shit. Team lead, please be advised that you are under the effects of a powerful cognitohazard. We are attempting to upload a filter to your scramble risers. One moment. Nah, Command is alright. Just Zachary. We go way back, don't we buddy? AP-3 Vigo playfully punches the corpse, dislodging its jaw. The corpse does not respond. Zachary, we're looking for some other people trapped in here. Do you know how to get to the lower levels? Silence. Shit. Okay, okay, so wait. What's below that? Silence. Uh-huh. Silence. Shit, he's right. Where's Noah? The team turns and AP-3 Noah is not seen. Ah, shit. Zachary, stay here. Noah, do you read me? Noah, it's Ross. Do you hear me at all? Command, where the fuck is Noah? That's uncertain, Team Lead. Be advised, the upload is complete. Please restart your visors for the filter to take effect. Team restarts their visors. There we go. What was that? Oh gross. Command, there was a body in the wall down here. Looked like it's been fused into it or something. Our visors are ticking like crazy too. Acknowledge Team Lead, proceed. Wait, look. Back there. You see shimmering? Is that gas? It looks like a gas leak. Oh fuck no. Look at the floor. Look behind it. Fuck fuck. Shit. Noah, shit. Approaching MTF AP-3 of the shimmering transparent humanoid construct, apparently the source of the spatial anomalies in this area. As its feet touch the ground, the floor begins to warp within space around them, stabilizing it until the entity passes by. MTF AP-Noah is visible hanging behind the entity, though the nature of the agent is uncertain as the spatial anomaly he has caught in appears to be extremely severe and very few of his features can be made out. Noah is seen attempting to move slightly, but continues to be twisted by the anomaly as it moves. Fucking shoot it, goddammit. Open fucking fire. Shit. MTF AP-3 fires on the entity. As the bullets approach, the trajectory changes and they twist and spin around the entity before falling harmless on the floor or lodging in the ceiling. This isn't working chief, we… my fucking arms, shit. AP-3 Vigo is seen turning and attempting to pull away from an unseen force. From AP-3's O'Halo's camera, a long shimmering transparent appendage is seen stretching towards AP-3 Vigo, abstracting the wall closest to it as it moves. It wraps around AP-3 Vigo's left arm, which begins to visibly distort. Vigo screams, Houston, the anchor! Oh yeah. AP-3 Houston produced a miniature portable Scranton reality anchor, which he powers on and lobs towards the entity. There is a flash of red light, and for a split second the entity becomes visible as an extremely disfigured, grotesquely elongated humanoid, which exists for only a second before the spatial distortions surrounding it are anchored and violently reset, creating a massive pressure wave in the confined space. The team is momentarily incapacitated. Oh, my arm. AP-3 Vigo's left arm is bright red, but otherwise unscathed. AP-3 O'Halo assesses it. The color will go away, that's just the anchor cooling down. You good? Yeah, I'm alright, thanks. Jesus, Noah. Noah, are you there? Silence. Can any of you see Noah? Ross, here look, in the wall. As dust clears, AP-3 Noah becomes visible, partially fused with the wall, ceiling, and floor across 10 meters of hallway. The agent is unmoving. Uh-uh. Indistinct muttering. God. Command? Do you read me? Hello? We read you, team lead. We lost Noah, he's in the wall. Do you want us to proceed? One moment. Silence. Team lead, do you feel this return to the surface would be more dangerous than continuing your mission? I have no way of knowing that. We have no way of knowing what's in here. Everything in here is so fucked, it's incredible. I don't even know if we can get back, if we wanted to. None of the other teams have, have they? That is correct. Honestly, whatever happens down here can't be any worse than whatever we see on our way back. It probably doesn't make a difference. Whatever, let's keep going. Affirmative team lead, we are preparing another team to evac you in the event you reach your target. Insertion time is in 4 hours. You're sending another task force in here? What idiot's volunteered for that gig? Sam-Sara. Oh. Alright, cool, I copy. Team continues on for a short time, unimpeded. They pass through several other areas, including a ransacked infirmary, a cafeteria space melted in a slag, and a wing of containment units identified as Olympia-class that are no less than 100 meters in height. Eventually the team enters a room off of the main hallway that appears to be a telecommunication center, a single television illuminated on a wall across from them. This is weird. Stay cool, guys. Search this room. See if there's anything we can collect that they could use topside. These terminals have power, I'll collect a backup. There is a sound on the other end of the room, like static. Ohalo and Houston move towards the illuminated television. Is something broadcasting through this? The screen flickers and an image appears. The interior of a standard containment cell is shown, though is devoid of any comfort or belongings. A single red light behind the camera is on, poorly illuminating the space. A long figure is huddled in the corner. Hang on, is that? Holy shit it is. What is it? It's Bobble the fucking clown. At the dimension of the name, the figure in the corner looks towards the camera. What? What do you want? Who is it? Jesus, my name is Carter Ross. I am an agent with the… actually, hang on, who are you? The figure shifts sideways, and more of its body becomes visible through the darkness. The red light illuminates its eyes, though little else of the figure can be made out. Mmm, you're different. You smell different. You know I can smell you even from here. You don't know that, though. They did, but you're not like them. They want the great lens to figure that out. They knew. They know. They will know. Mmm. You're Bobble the clown, yeah? The figure slides slowly across the wall of the cell, just out of range of the red light. Its movements are noticeably erratic. It comes closer to the camera. They had a number for me once, when I was Bobble, but your friends didn't like the number, said we identified with the numbers. Mmm, I'm not Bobble, but I am a thing that used to be Bobble. You're not where you're supposed to be, gun buddy. You don't match the air in here. You're out of place, just like I am. Just like we are. Uh-huh. What happened here? The Emerson played a tricky little game with the strings of the universe. He walked on them like a tightrope and was surprised when he fell. Tricky little Emerson didn't just want boxes, no, no, no. He wanted boxes full of ideas. Ideas like pain, horror, death. He worked very hard to stack those boxes on his string and broke the whole thing, and we all came tumbling down with him. How many other entities are in here? What else do you know? How many entities were swallowed by Site-13? You silly, silly out-of-place boy, silly little boy. Everything made its way into Site-13. If the Foundation could find it and the Coalition could catch it, it would fed into the meat grinder down here. They mulched us all if there was nothing to gain. Some got lucky. Bobble got lucky, stuffed in a funny box and played with, toyed with, experimented with. See what sounds we made when we wanted to die. Others were not so lucky. They burned the library, you know, held it upside down like a can of soup and let the contents run out into the furnace, and burned the whole place up. They did other things, too. Worst things, Daddy Emerson liked it. He watched it all, every time. Got his jollies off watching it. What worst things? The unidentified figure approaches the camera and comes fully into view, illuminated by the red light. A significant portion of its body is distorted by video static that moves as it moves. This static appears to be cutting into the tissue of the figure's body, creating large lacerations that ooze a dark yellow fluid. As it moves, the figure appears to be slotting off large portions of its mass, which are replaced with static. Half of its face slots off as it nears the camera, and one eye becomes shrouded in static. Every worst thing. Chief, we're picking up something on the radio. I think it's the survivor's signal. We must be getting close. All right, let's keep moving. Have fun, boys. Don't let the bedbugs bite. If you see Daddy Emerson down here, rape him to death for me. AP-3 team passes out of the telecommunications room and into the main hallway. Following the strength of the signal discovered by AP-3 Vigo, they near an area that appears to be a cryogenic containment unit, similar to those utilized in the deep-funged cryogenic's wire ring of Site-19. As they pass through this area, command loses the signal of each member of the team, with only interim and static being broadcast. This continues for thirty minutes before a signal is received again. Command, command, are you there? Do you read me? Houston, reread you. Are you all right? Is everyone all right? Oh shit, thank God. We've been trying to reach you forever. Yeah, we've found the survivors. We're holed up down here in… I don't know what you'd call this place, but it's not conducive to habitation. We're looking at twenty, maybe thirty people? We've found some other agents of ours too. A few mole rats and a guy from the Travelers. They all ended up down here. Are you prepared to evac? Uh, yeah. So that's not going to happen the way I think we wanted to. Not currently. It's a whole lot worse here than we had anticipated, Command. I don't know how they ever locked some of this stuff up. It suffices to say that every single containment cell is broken open, and this shit is real. Like really real. We keep hearing things down the hallways nearby. I think whatever is out there is looking for us. I think they're angry. If they find us, we don't have the bullets to keep them down, let alone get these people out. Where is Ross? He's been trying to get some defenses ready with the others, in case they come tonight. It's not looking good, you know. I don't know if you guys have a backup plan, but we'll take any ideas. How long have you been down there? Uh, maybe three days? Affirmative. Apollo 3 Team, be advised that we are activating and inserting TAL-5 for rescue and recovery. Fuck yes, tell them to hurry.