 The locked box was written by Floris of Spending Abyss. You can find it on the SCP Wiki, and a link in the description below. It is under a Creative Commons share-alike attribution license. Before you are three grey boxes, bearing identical rusty locks. Atop them written in red lettering their titles. Safe, Euclid, and Keter. You can hear the gentle hum of a forgotten experience inside each one. The flow of nighttime traffic. The chirping of marooning birds. The patter of footsteps on grass. You fish around in your pocket until you find what you need. Three golden keys. You open the first box. Safe. The assortment obscures your vision. A cool breeze whips over the topmost pillow. You are nesting curled into a defensive ball. Wrapped under a cotton cocoon on a black summer night. A fortress. A stack of decorative pillows. And weighted blankets with an opening above you like a hole in the sky. The light of passing trucks shines through your window, illuminating your face as it turns upward at a world. There's a loneliness to the changing of the seasons. A promise that the world and all the people in it will keep spinning and spinning and spinning. A promise that all things will change. And sometimes they will stay the same, but you have never felt more safe. You open the second box. Euclid. In the cotton candy morning you stand in the glimmer of a backyard. If it can be called a backyard, it's all asphalt. And watch through the wires and the hills that are houses. The yellowing, widening mouths and the clouds into a blue crystal throat. You carefully slip off your shoes. You walk down to where the asphalt ends just beneath the high wooden fence. And you stand there in the corner of the yard in the one teeny tiny box that has grass. Before you is a rested iron gate. And beneath you are ladybugs and worms and gnats that bite at you, but to swat them away would be purposeless. You place your hand on the gate and think about the geography of the suburbs. Boxes within boxes within boxes. You are in a box behind a box, boxed in from other boxes with greener boxes around them. It's absurd really. You look back to the rolling hills that are houses and wish for once that the world was non-Euclidean. And it would just bend backwards in a way that you could just perfectly see the clouds part. And show you the sun. You open the third box. Keter. In the waning afternoon you are walking beside an intersection, the busiest road in the whole village, right in front of your partner's house. And as you turn one last time there in the green grass, a brown bird, his feathers are sleek and shimmering and his beady black eyes like glasses sit above his beak. He is on his side. His legs are broken. And so is his wing. You scramble. Please, don't be dead. Lifting your flannel from your shoulders you produce a fortress, with an opening above the avian like a hole in the sky. Lifting him quickly as shallow breaths match your own as you take off. Good. Good. He's still breathing. As quickly as his chest moves up and down you realize I shouldn't be able to see him breathe. And to helplessness envelops you as he speaks. Cheer up. Cheer up. Cheer up. And then silence. You bury him there. A shrine of dirt and flowers and your thoughts wander. There was nothing you could do for him, but it dawns on you at least. You were there. And even in his final words to you in some language in some way you know he said thank you. I love you. And you know one day you will watch him float in an open sky and for you he will unfurl a banner of parchment before facing away and swimming through the air with his powerful wings into that final wearer. As the darkness of another summer night closes around you you proclaim this sparrow's name. Gheeter. The crown. The golden brown beauty you held in your hands and now you will always carry on your back. Always. You gently set the lid down. With a sharp twist the third box is locked again. Satisfied. You turn to the door behind you and press it open with your left hand. Light fills the nearly forgotten storage unit as you step off into somewhere else. Thank you very much for watching. If you enjoyed the video hit the subscribe button and then hit the notification bell next to that so you're notified when I upload new videos. And then head on over to patreon.com forward slash de-samaritan and pledge at any level like everybody here on the screen already has including sinjiriki who has pledged $100. It's nice to know that I'm not alone out here and I will see you all again on Tuesday.