 Item Number – SCP-077 Object Class – Euclid Special Containment Procedures – SCP-077 is to be kept in Research Sector 861 on top of a 0.5m steel pedestal in a 3mx3mx3m chamber with 0.5m thick steel reinforced walls. The reinforced steel hatch door to the chambers to comply with AH-37 protocol. It is to be guarded at all times by two level 1 personnel. A boom mic connected to a speech recognition system should verify that all pronunciation is within standards. A camera is to be mounted within the chamber to record any changes. Every 8 hours, a minimum of 2 but preferably 3 trained D-class personnel are to enter the containment area and, in a loud, clear voice, read the runes etched onto SCP-077 in unison. The reading must be performed by individuals who understand the full meaning of the runes being read, who are able to pronounce the entirety of the inscription correctly, and, who are no more than 30cm away from SCP-077. All personnel must undergo a one-week training session with Foundation linguists for pronunciation, reading, and dialect coaching. A minimum of 20 D-class personnel are to be trained or undergoing training at all times. Trained D-class personnel are exempt from termination until such time as they have been replaced. Foundation linguists are to remain on call in case of an unexpected rune change. Every new set of runes is to be transcribed into phonetic English and provided with literal and idiomatic translations as quickly as possible. The cafeteria menu for Research Sector 861 must not include any potatoes or potato-based ingredients. Description SCP-077 appears to be the top half of a human skull, engraved with runes, each filled with an unidentified black resin. The runes change every lunar month, defined by the full moon rising above the horizon in Ireland, as well as at the winter and summer solstices, the spring and autumn equinoxes. And whatever a partial, annular, or total solar or lunar eclipse is visible from Ireland. If these engravings are not read aloud at least once within a 24-hour period, the eye sockets and nasal cavity of SCP-077 will emit SCP-077-1. SCP-077-1 is a luminescent green vapor, whose precise nature remains undetermined. It is to be noted that, although SCP-077-1 behaves as a normal gas in all other ways, it only occupies those spaces which are within SCP-077's effective line of sight and does not flow into the space behind SCP-077, unless confined. Opaque impermeable barriers with no biological content can provide temporary protection from SCP-077-1. However, attempts to permanently contain SCP-077 within opaque containers have failed, due to the artifact's production of sufficient quantities of SCP-077-1 to explosively rupture these containers. All biological material, with the obvious exception of SCP-077 itself, which comes in contact with SCP-077-1, is instantly transformed into a viscous, malodorous ooze. The ooze has been identified as the rotted flesh of potato tubers, Solanum tuberosum, which have been severely infected with the potato blight, Phytophthora infestens. One cubic centimeter of SCP-077-1 transforms upwards of 800 grams of biological material. Reading SCP-077's engravings has noticeable, if transient, effects on the health of the readers. These effects include nausea, cramps, headache, dizziness, incontinence, fever, skin rashes, nosebleeds, and fugue states. Effects intensify as the time between readings increases, and can become cumulative for individuals who read the engravings too many times consecutively and or too frequently. Raiders have a 60% chance of developing an allergy to potatoes. From SCP-077-1, the artifact was recovered in the village of F***, Ireland. Locals had built a shrine around the artifact, where upwards of F*** participants would engage in a nightly ritual. Fragmentary historical documents, retrieved from the remnants of the village's church and library, indicate that the artifact existed as early as 1848, at which point in time it is described in highly positive terms, including protector and F***. By 1869, however, references to the artifact are fearful, resentful, and couched in euphemism. Item number, SCP-140 Object Class, Keter Special Containment Procedures SCP-140 must never be brought closer than 15 meters to any source of standard ink, human blood, or other fluids suitable for writing. Any contamination by blood or ink must be reported immediately. Any remaining copies of SCP-140 created during the initial printing must be found and destroyed as soon as possible. Only SCP-140 is to be preserved for purposes of study, early warning, and cataloging and recording possible SCPs derived from its subject matter. SCP-140 is contained at Site-76 in a sealed vault containing a single desk. At this time, no research is to be carried out upon the original SCP-140. Researchers are to read from prepared copies not bearing the signature of its author, which lack its properties. In the event of approved research, SCP-140 may not be removed from the vault and readers may not be in contact with it for longer than nine hours. Access requires written approval from the head researcher for the explicit purposes of testing. Enarmed guards stationed outside the vault will meet any attempted theft with deadly force. Should any personnel begin displaying obsession with SCP-140 or signs of possible memetic contamination, they are to be issued a Class A amnesiac. False memories implanted is necessary and transferred to another project. Transferred personnel must be monitored for signs of relapse. SCP-140 is a modern hard copy book with an unremarkable black binding and an unknown number of white pages. The book jacket is missing, but the title, A Chronicle of the Davos, is clearly legible. The inside cover is signed by the author, whose name is indicefrable. The text is copyrighted 19 years ago. Careful examination reveals there are far more pages between the bindings than could be contained within them. Readers admit to feelings of paranoia, unease, and occasional nausea while reading SCP-140, although this may be related to the subject material. Nonetheless, readers almost universally describe SCP-140 as fascinating and express continued interest despite its frequently unsettling content. One in 15 readers describes SCP-140 as having a faint odor of dried blood. SCP-140 is a detailed account of an ancient civilization originating in what is now South Central Siberia, identified as the Davaits. Although, like all cultures, the Davaits evolved and changed over time. They appear to have exhibited unusual continuity. Universal fixtures of the Davait culture in all periods includes militarism, conquest, military worship, urban centers ruling over large slave populations, gruesome human sacrifice, and the practice of apparently efficacious thaumaturgic rituals. A variety of relics and creatures produced by the Davait culture would be abnormal or dangerous enough, if the account is to be believed, to qualify for containment in their own right. If SCP-140 comes into contact with any fluids suitable for writing, including human blood, the account of the Davait civilization's history expands. Human blood appears the most potent of possible writing substances, but in any case, the amount of new material does not correspond proportionally to the fluids introduced. Although these new segments sometimes include new descriptions of rituals or cultural traits or illustrations of previously covered material, they more frequently include new, more recent accounts of information, chronicling the continued history of the Davait civilization or descriptions of new individuals and artifacts. Formerly decisive defeats become setbacks, new persons and events are inserted, foundation archaeologists have discovered corresponding new artifacts and traces of the Davait civilization in applicable locations and strata, in some cases found in dig sites that had already been thoroughly explored. Although at times the Davaits were a collection of city-states, they appear to have consistently returned to imperialism, under a theocratic aristocracy, the Deva, practitioners of cannibalism and Thaumaturgy. Although initially foundation researchers believe the Deva to have been a hereditary class recycling the names of noteworthy individuals, evidence and the events of life, now suggest that the Deva possessed preternatural longevity as a result of data expunged. Local researchers, notably Professor Rath, have concluded that Deva were so divergent from modern humans as to be a separate subspecies, a conclusion supported by graphic representations within SCP-140 and dead expunged. SCP-140 is remarkably detailed by the standards of a primary source, seeming closer to a biography than a historic text. It includes lurid descriptions of sacrificial rites, battlefield descriptions, daily life, and the life stories of various noteworthy individuals, including quotes and dates of birth. Several distinct individuals have been identified, including the individual presently termed SCP-140A, of which only rites are accounted for by recorded deaths. Foundation archaeologists have discovered several sites containing ruins consistent with the supposed Devaic culture in various locations across Siberia, Northern Iran, and Mongolia. Artifacts and traces of intercultural conflict and contact have been discovered as far west as the Carpathian Mountains, and as far east as northern Pakistan and China. These include SCP-140A, SCP-140 was originally found in the office of a deceased historian. The previous owner was discovered in his office at University, having expired from self-inflicted lacerations on both wrists. There were no traces of their blood in the office. The subject's colleagues claimed during interviews they discovered a note in faded ink in their handwriting next to SCP-140. All witnesses were administered Class A amnesiacs and false memories implanted. The note read, I have to know, I'm sorry. All texts within 15 meters, except several books relating to the history of the region, were blank. The remaining books now included accounts of supposed interaction between the Devaic civilization and the subject cultures, or applicable discussions of Devaic history and culture. These texts were confiscated. All printed forms and media were blank. All pens, printers, and ink cartridges were empty. Item 140B Although SCP-140 was published during the 20th century, the tone of the book suggests it is a recounting of events, individuals, and practices experienced first hand by SCP-140's unknown author. Foundation investigators have tracked SCP-140's publication to the data expunged, printing house and a batch of several copies self-published by a wealthy individual, hereby termed SCP-140A. SCP-140A's signature on the contract matches the strange signature inside SCP-140. More than 40 of the copies produced in this batch were apparently leached of all ink by the remaining copies. To date, Foundation agents have recovered and destroyed the majority of the remainder, but some remain at large. Two expansion events have been reported during periods when SCP-140 had never been exposed to fluids of any sort, or removed from its vault. An investigation and manhunt for the author of SCP-140 is ongoing. Addendum 140C Through study of SCP-140 and other contained objects related to the David civilization, Foundation researchers have concluded that, transposed to the modern era, the resurgence of a hostile David civilization in history more recent than SCP-140C would constitute a grave and even possibly retroactive threat to the Foundation and modern civilization as we know it. Even best case projections of David resurgence in the modern days suggest a CK-class restructuring of modern society and a worldwide conflict with a projected death toll of at least expunged and an end to the Foundation's secrecy. Addendum 140D's journal, found on his home PC, indicates that upon his initial reading of SCP-140 it ended with the almost utter destruction of the David civilization and the genocide of all known David in 200 BCE by the forces of Chinese general Kin Kai. As a result of subsequent containment breaches, including those detailed in the journal, copious quantities of new material have been added, describing survivors regrouping and migrating to another region of central Siberia, rebuilding their empire steadily and continuing to advance culturally and technologically. At present, the empire is described as having finally been crushed by Genghis Khan during the early period of his conquests, although the fates of many important persons in several cities remain ambiguous. Foundation archaeologists will be dispatched for investigation and research. Addendum 140E, after an incident at an undisclosed dig site resulting in countless casualties, all Foundation archaeologists excavating sites of suspected David artifacts or ruins are to be accompanied by a fully armed security team. SCP-141 has been neutralized. SCP-142 remains at large. All other anomalous contacts and artifacts were destroyed when the dig site was struck by a cruise missile. Agent Wang received a commendation and was treated for post-traumatic stress disorder. Dr. Wang received a posthumous commendation for courage. An investigation into the possible involvement of SCP-140A or their agents in these events is ongoing. Item Number – SCP-141 Object Class – Safe Special Containment Procedures – When not in use, SCP-141 is to be stored inside a locked safe in Site-76. Access to this safe requires security level clearance three or higher and written approval to use SCP-141. When SCP-141 is in use, either for implementation in accordance with Foundation goals or for research purposes, it is to be kept within the possession of the assigned researcher at all times. Failure to account for SCP-141 will result in a severe reprimand. While SCP-141's danger to the Foundation appears limited, it could still be a tempting target for certain subversive groups or opportunistic users. For this reason, SCP-141 is to be checked out for no more than one week at a time. Description – SCP-141 is a small leather-bound codex, dating back to Roman times, easily carried in one hand. Despite its great age, it never acquires any additional signs of wear and tear beyond a somewhat aged-looking cover. Its thin papyrus pages are always crisp, and so far have proven difficult to tear from the codex's binding. All attempts at radiocarbon dating have failed. The judgment of SCP-141 as being Roman in origin was initially based upon its appearance, but later confirmed through extensive research using SCP-141, corroborated by historical records. The title is apparently Codex damnatio, based upon the text on its spine. SCP-141's pages are written in Roman Republic era Latin. It is a detailed description of notes and summations for a wide range of legal trials. This first half contains a series of historic trials from throughout history. The earliest trial appears to be from the prescriptions of the late Roman Republic, while the most recent case is the data expunged, taking place in 2001. Each case summary is extensive, with precise witness quotations, exact physical descriptions of evidence, and their importance to the case, and so on. The codex actually contains far more legal cases than its 150 pages could possibly allow. A reader must make a detailed reference to a range or specific case to discover if it is listed inside. If it is, the pages will transform into those relating to the specified case. This requires specific mentions of historical context surrounding the cases. Research with SCP-141, conducted by Professor Ruff, revealed SCP-141 has apparently been employed in, among other important periods, a wide variety of Roman prescriptions, heretical trials of the Catholic Church, the Spanish Inquisition, the witch hunts of the 17th century, and the red scare of the mid-20th century. The latter half of the book is blank, and can be written in with any pen with black ink. A user of SCP-141 must provide detailed information about a criminal proceeding, including victim, evidence, witness statements, and suspects, and they must do so in Republic-era Latin. Later readings of the book will reveal these new cases in the first half of the book, written in the same handwriting as the rest. A very precise, careful hand. When this information is provided to SCP-141, the particulars of the case described in SCP-141 appear to become true in regards to memory and evidence surrounding the case. Witnesses' memories and testimony will correspond to the information written in SCP-141. Falsified evidence springs into existence in accordance with its description, usually appearing in the court record or the crime scene where it can easily be discovered. This has included murder weapons, suspicious traces of the subject such as fluids or fingerprints, stolen items, or incriminating documents. SCP-141 appears able to cause criminal activities that would not have taken place, although this requires even more precise wording and description of the particulars. The guilty party specified by SCP-141 may have a false memory implanted that corresponds with SCP-141's account of events, although this result requires a clever description of the desired scenario. These memories do not overwrite the original ones, but they do seem quite nearly as real. Care must be taken by all users to ensure as many loopholes are closed as possible. SCP-141's falsifications will stand up to all but the most critical of examinations, but it will only produce precisely the memories and evidence written inside it. While it appears to prejudice the court against the guilty party, this is not foolproof. Nonetheless, successfully employed, SCP-141 is an almost sure-fire conviction. Even in the event of exoneration, guilty subjects will often still be ostracized, and viewed as guilty by influenced witnesses and law enforcement personnel, who may in some cases data-expunged. Addendum SCP-141A Tests are ongoing to determine if SCP-141 is capable of exonerating an innocent man wrongly convicted, or if changing the results during the trial has any measurable effect. Approval to employ SCP-141 in a test case is pending. Addendum SCP-141B Following data-expunged, all test cases involving Foundation disciplinary hearings or implicating members of the Foundation, other than D-Class personnel with outside waivers from the guilty subject are hereby forbidden by 05- Violation of this new security protocol shall be dealt with harshly. Item Number SCP-152 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-152 is to be kept in a locked chamber in Site 49, henceforth referred to as the Reading Room. The Reading Room is off limits to personnel below Clearance Level 2. The Reading Room will be equipped with one ceiling lamp, one security camera, one scanner copy or printer to be restocked with paper and ink as needed, one standard office chair, and one standard office desk upon which SCP-152 will rest. When not in use, SCP-152 is to be turned to its last page so that any additions made to it can be immediately observed. A single guard will be posted outside of the Reading Room to deter unauthorized persons from entering the Reading Room. All personnel are advised to remain quiet if they are near the Reading Room. Description SCP-152 is a large, hardbound book with leather bindings. The paper inside resembles vellum and is written upon in black ink. The contents of the book consist entirely of a series of entries that describe apocalyptic events, which are not always XK-class end-of-the-world scenarios, but invariably deal with the extinction of humanity. The entries are arranged in chronological order, beginning with an unexplained spontaneous failure of the sun in 6000 BC and ending with other events close to the present day. Many of the entries describe apocalypses caused or facilitated by objects that are or were in Foundation custody or are of a paranormal nature. There are also records of human extinction caused by more conventional means, such as nuclear warfare or deadly viral epidemics. Each entry describes in some detail the events leading up to the calamity itself and the aftermath until the point at which the last human on Earth dies. It has been observed that the entries in SCP-152 changed whatever language the reader is most comfortable with, up to the point where the sentence structure can change significantly from reader to reader, or even begin using colloquialisms that only the reader would understand. Only the basic meaning of the entries remains constant. If multiple people are looking at SCP-152, it will read in the personal language of whomever began reading first. If no one is directly observing SCP-152, it will display the language of whomever read it last. Rarely, words will appear in the book that do not translate and instead appear as horizontally arranged calligraphic characters, which have not been matched to any known language. To the best knowledge of Foundation historians, most of the information contained in SCP-152 is accurate, diverging only at the point where the apocalypse occurs. In almost all cases, the difference is that a few key decisions were apparently made differently in SCP-152's version of history, leading ultimately to humankind's annihilation. The SCP-152 resists all attempts to change or write in it. Inks, graphite, charcoal, and other marking materials do not adhere to the pages and are easily brushed off. Lasers or other heat sources do not burn into the paper. Close inspection has revealed that foreign substances are stopped from actually coming into contact with the pages. At least five micrometers of empty space are always present between the pages themselves and any foreign materials that might come into contact with them. For this reason, SCP-152 does not decay, which also means that it has proven impossible to determine SCP-152's exact age. SCP-152 is self-updating, with newly inked entries and new descriptions of how the last human died appearing at unpredictable intervals, always on the last page of the book. The date that a new entry appears corresponds with the date given in the entry for the death of the last member of the human species. When space becomes an issue, extra pages appear along with the text and the spine of SCP-152 broadens accordingly. There have been several updates to the book since it came into Foundation custody. As with past events, SCP-152 has proven to be up to date on current events, until a point at which a catastrophe occurs. Because recent entries frequently concern entities or groups of interest to the Foundation, including the Foundation itself, SCP-152 is to be checked regularly for any information of importance. Addendum 1 With the acknowledgement made that letting this thing lie around where the public could find it is dangerous to us, is there any real reason to study it? Outdated hypothetical disaster scenarios aren't our concern. We've got plenty of real ones in the present to deal with. Addendum 2 The book is accurate enough about pre-disaster earth that it makes a decent guide to the present. Plus, it gives a little perspective on the big picture of what some SCPs could do if they got loose. I think all researchers with clearance ought to read the last 50 pages or so just to drive home how important what they do here is. For want of a nail and all that. Dr. Janssen Addendum 3 Janssen, half the entries in the last 50 pages show the Foundation screwing up and killing everybody. 05 Addendum 4 Like I said, it gives a little perspective. Dr. Janssen Incident Report 152-05 On the night of the security guard on camera duty noticed that SCP-152 was missing from the reading room. However, by the time she had finished reaching for the switchboard to report this, SCP-152 had reappeared, and there was a new entry on the last page. As this was the fifth such occurrence of sudden disappearance and reappearance, a simple test was conducted with a high-speed camera, a sensitive electronic scale upon which SCP-152 was placed, and an alarm set to go off if the weight upon the scale abruptly changed. The next three updates to SCP-152 all set the alarm off, and the high-speed camera revealed that SCP-152 vanished from sight for exactly one second each time. 05 Addendum 5 I posit that the book isn't actually being updated as such. It's actually being replaced, and each time it changes we are actually receiving a new addition of it. I would very much like to find out where these are coming from. 06 Dr. Janssen Item Number SCP-186 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures The site of SCP-186, comprising an approximately 300 km2 area, is to be closed to the public under the auspices of a Habitat Restoration Initiative for the European Bison. An automated security perimeter is to be established, monitored by staff at remote Site 355. Security personnel must patrol SCP-186 every two weeks. Any anomalous phenomena observed within the security perimeter must be documented and reported to the research director. All known primary sources documenting the events of SCP-186 have been secured by the Foundation. These materials are to be stored in the Site-23 archives. Due to the age of the materials, and the potential for deterioration, all access to these documents must be approved by the Site-23 archivist, and handled per their instructions. All instances of SCP-186-1 are to be secured in the munitions wing of Site-23. Description SCP-186 is the site of an unrecorded military engagement, occurring from 7.24.1917 to 8.13.1917 between elements of the Imperial German Army and forces of the Russian Provisional Government as part of the larger conflict of World War I and the continuing effects resulting from its aftermath. This conflict came to be known to its participants as the Battle of Hussiatin Woods in surviving accounts. In July of 1917, an armed engagement between a detachment of approximately 500 German soldiers and the remnants of a Russian division scattered during the German counterattack to the Kerensky offensive took place at the location of SCP-186. The forces met in heavily forested terrain outside the town of Hussiatin in what is currently Ternopol Oblast, Ukraine. On both sides of the conflict, combatants deployed anomalous weaponry, utilizing technology that is yet to be duplicated or understood at present. This battle eventually resulted in the deaths or permanent incapacitation of all forces involved and approximately 300 civilians in its general vicinity. SCP-186-1 consists of recovered weaponry, dating from the initial containment of SCP-186 in 1917, and includes the following. A highly modified weapon resembling the Skoda M1909 machine gun, capable of causing extremely rapid tumor-like growths to appear within the body of any organism larger than a common lab rat. Mortar shells, specially designed to be fired from a mortar to 58mm type 2, containing a gas that causes animal cells to become unable to cease life function. Concertina wire, coated with an unknown hallucinogenic compound that permanently affects human test subjects upon entering the bloodstream. Remnants of an unknown incendiary device, believed to have been detonated at the close of the conflict, accounting for what is estimated to be 34% of total casualties. British Empire issue number 27 type grenades, containing a gas capable of passing through all tested gas mask filtration systems, and causing humans to constantly experience the sensation of being on fire. 8x50mm rimmed French rifle cartridges, containing powdered human bone instead of gunpowder. Purpose unknown. Historical records indicate that the German detachment involved in the Battle of Hussiatin Woods, at the behest of a Hungarian military advisor named Matias Nemes, specifically pursued the group of Russian forces in retreat, which at the time included French scientist Dr. Jean Durand. Based on documents of the era since suppressed by the Foundation, it is believed that these two individuals are responsible for the development and limited manufacture of SCP-186-1, and had attached themselves to opposing sides of the Eastern Front for the express purpose of deployment of these weapons in a combat setting. Log log 186-7, notable anomalies documented at SCP-186. 04-11, 1923, a three kilometer squared area in the southwestern portion of SCP-186 experiences a spontaneous die-off of trees. Decomposition occurs on an extremely accelerated time scale, and area is completely cleared of trees and other plant life within two weeks. 01-13, 1927, despite temperatures consistently at negative 15 degrees Celsius, no snow is visible throughout central portion of site. Temperatures measured at site are consistent with surroundings. 09-02, 1932, the sounds of sporadic gunfire are recorded throughout the site, despite lack of observed presence of any civilians. Cases persist for three days. 05-30, 1936, agents check off and fail to return from routine patrol of SCP-186. No subsequent traces of either person are ever recovered. 05-15, 1941, acting in accordance with intelligence sources embedded in the Third Reich, Foundation personnel evacuate SCP-186 in advance of Operation Barbarossa. Subsequent to decommissioning observation posts, faint glow visible from 150 meters documented by staff to move through site. Definitive visual contact unestablished prior to evacuation. 10-29, 1945, containment of SCP-186 re-established after discussions with Soviet Union officials. Uninitial patrol after re-establishment of containment, 13 corpses dressed in uniforms and insignia of the German 4th Panzer Army, and 27 corpses in Soviet 22nd Army uniforms are discovered in advanced state of decay. No identifications of personnel are successful, as all identifying documents and insignia have been removed prior to Foundation containment. 02-19, 1959, following the formation of a large sinkhole in the northeastern portion of SCP-186, four men are observed wandering the immediate area in a state of extreme disorientation. Dressed in water later identified to be severely decomposed and degraded World War One-era military uniforms of both German Empire and Russian issue, subjects detained and routed to Site-23 for subsequent research. 04-02, 1959, after an extensive excavation of the site of the northeastern sinkhole, 23 persons are discovered buried at a depth of 15 meters in a mass grave, alive despite decades of internment and various wounds and injuries. As with subjects discovered earlier, most are dressed in remnants of military uniforms of the World War One-era and are presumed to be participants of the original SCP-186 event. Extensive research at Site-23 yields little information, as subjects are unable to provide any meaningful information or communication to Foundation staff due to extensive psychological trauma and profound mental disorders. Foundation staff attempt to euthanize subjects after three weeks of research, but fail in all attempts. This subsequently tranquilized, anesthetized, and incinerated. 07-29, 1962, prior to upgrades to containment facilities, security perimeter of SCP-186 found to be almost 85 meters longer than originally documented. Inquiry later rules out clerical error as source of discrepancy. 12-13, 1975, localized weather phenomena documented as occurring entirely and exclusively within SCP-186. These include sustained winds up to 120 kilometers per hour, 20 centimeters of rainfall, and temperatures temporarily reaching 48 degrees Celsius. 08-12, 1987, packs of wolves, numbering an estimated 200 total individuals, travel to SCP-186, mass at a point in the central region of the site, and immediately disperse. 0303, 2009, a stand of three spruce trees is observed in the southwestern deforested area, the first documented plant life since the 1923 event. Estimated age of trees is 50 years. Transcripts of selected SCP-186 documents. Document 186-3, a flyer advertising a May 1911 lecture given by Dr. Durand to the Royal Institute of Chemistry. To End All Wars. A presentation by visiting scholar Dr. Jean Durand, formerly of the Academy of Sciences, on the promise of modern science to create weapons of such terrible deterrent power so as to render future wars obsolete. Dr. Durand shall explain in the convergence of chemistry, ballistics, alienism, and other emerging scientific fields of endeavor that will enable mankind to usher in a new age of peace and modernity. To be given on the 19th of May, Derbyshire Lecture Hall. Document 186-11, opinion piece published in the January 2, 1912 edition of the Hungarian newspaper, Nepsava, authored by Matias Nemes. To my fellow subjects of his highness, Emperor Franz Josef, truly the greatest of human glories is the unification of a numerous and disparate people into a single, unstoppable purpose. That our marvelous kingdom should embody this inescapable principle should go without saying from Vienna to Budapest. But there are those, both within our territories and elsewhere on the continent, that would see us splintered into a thousand shards and stand in the way of our destiny. What is to be done with such agitators and malcontents? All traders and radicals are hung properly in the manner of the dogs that they are. There is no execution sufficient to quell the embers of treachery that burn in the hearts of the Balkanites. How are we to demonstrate our unity of purpose, our power, our God-given place at the head of the European procession? By force of arms. The hangman can only strike fear into the heart of dozens. A proper army can strike it into the souls of millions. Perhaps we have the numbers, but in this we are not alone. The Russian and the Muslim can rally hordes to their banners, but for all of their masses are merely unruly nuisances. What sets man apart from the animals is not his numerical superiority. No, but a superiority of mind demonstrated through quick wit and artifice. My fellow subjects, I have dedicated my life to the construction of such demonstrations of artifice that none may stand against my weapons, save the almighty. It is through the force of superior arms that we will achieve our grand design, both within our borders and without. Give me the factories, give me the manpower, give me the chance to serve our empire through my industries, and I will deliver to the people the flaming sword that will light the way to a civilized Europe. It is through these means, and only these means, that we will solve the questions that plague us today. Document 186-32, telegram sent by Jean-Duran Tamatius Nemes from Paris, April 28, 1912. Have considered your proposal, must decline, methods inferior and derivative of own research. Our aims are of conquest, mine are of peace, regards J. Durand. Document 186-39, undated memorandum from General Felix Graf von Boethmer of the Imperial German Army to unnamed subordinates. Effective immediately, Lieutenant Nemes is assigned to your unit as an advisor. Experimental armaments are only to be deployed on Lieutenant Nemes' orders, despite potential for a breakthrough on the Romanian front, unwise to use these ungodly things until more is known of their efficacy. Rumors of similar developments among the Tsarists remain unsubstantiated. Document 186-52, letter from Private Pyotr Avtakov, participant in the Battle of Hussiatin Woods. Dearest Nadja, I have heard rumors of the madness happening at home. Be comforted that it is nothing like the madness that is happening here. We thought that four years of war had taught us everything we had to know and then more. We learned nothing. The damnable Frenchman that the men elected to lead them spoke of peace. He spoke of weapons so terrible that we could make the enemy surrender on the spot. We were fools. We had run at the trenches with dead men's rifles and sticks in our hands. We believed him the way we believed anyone that has supplies. We never thought where this man came from. We didn't wonder why he had the weapons he did. We didn't care. We wanted to live. We never considered that the enemy had the same things we did. I do not think the Frenchman did either. Or at least, I hope he did not. I cannot imagine any man who would walk into this knowing what would happen. Maybe the Frenchman is not a man. Maybe he is something else. I am sitting now in a hole I have dug in a forest somewhere. I should have run the second I saw the Germans take aim at Giliyov. That was no bullet fired at him. I could not look anymore after his face came apart and he was still screaming. I thought I saw hands pulling his head apart. Somewhere in the distance Volikov is screaming that he can see devils roasting his children. He has been screaming about the same thing for five days. I should have run away so many times. The Frenchman gave us a new gas weapon. We refused at first, remembering what had happened in Romania. But he promised us that this was different, that this would put our enemies down without harming them. Who wants any more bloodshed? He asked us. We could not argue with that. We fired mortars at a position ahead of us. A strange blue gas seeped from behind the trees but the Frenchman cautioned us against advancing. One more thing he said, he took one of our rifles and taking aim took a single shot. Before we could ask what a scientist could know of shooting we heard a scream. He had hit one of the Germans. He handed me a pair of field glasses. Take a look he said. I saw the German missing half of his head, still screaming. I have seen everything in this war but I have never seen faces like those of that Germans fellows as they watched their comrade. The Frenchman in his terrible calm voice explained that his shot had to have destroyed at least a quarter of the soldier's brain tissue. Enough to cause instant death he said. But watch. I kept watching through the field glasses. The German didn't stop screaming. At least ten minutes I watched unable to move away. The Frenchman smiled. He smiled at this scene. The gas he said ensured that death would not come regardless of injury. The Germans were too horrified by their comrade to notice that they were not behind cover and the Frenchman lined up another shot. The rest of the soldier's head was now gone and the screaming was replaced by some sort of low grunting the likes of which I have never heard from men. No, the Frenchman said, no harm at all. I have bestowed the gift of life on your opponents. Who could possibly stand against that? He asked. I had to leave and vomit behind some bushes. I had not done that since the first trenches. Who indeed could keep fighting after such a thing? But fight they did. Once, a group of us were ambushed and chased to a meadow. The first men through the trees were hit with something that took their skin. I cannot describe why seeing men blown apart is not as frightening as seeing a neatly flayed corpse on a battlefield, but our group scattered. We are no longer armies, not anymore. We are animals trapped in a forest together, uncomprehending. Sometimes when Volokov sleeps, I hear the Frenchman in the woods yelling in Hungarian, yelling and laughing. I would almost rather listen to Volokov. I am going to die in this hole. I am too scared of what is outside of it to do otherwise. Minkin is going to try to brave the horrors in the woods to escape. I am sending this letter with him in the hopes that he does. As I gave it to him, he joked that he will get a civil service commission after the war for delivering a letter from hell. I am not certain he is wrong. Goodbye, Pyotr. Item number SCP-390 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-390 is stored in a disassembled state in a climate controlled containment unit at sight. Direct access to or experimentation with SCP-390 may only be performed with permission from at least two level three senior researchers. Description SCP-390 is the remains of a large mechanical device that is suggested to have been approximately six meters in height and four meters in diameter, handcrafted and primarily composed of wood, rubber and other organic materials with metal fixtures and fittings. The remaining intact section of the device consists of a large aiming mechanism topped with a heavy sealed housing containing multiple large glass lenses as well as several components that have yet to be identified. Despite carbon dating of the wood in the structure placing the device at approximately 2,200 to 2,300 years old, little to no deterioration of the device's non-wooden components has occurred. Experimentation on SCP-390 performed after years of careful restoration has shown that the device is capable of generating intense heat focused at a distance of up to 1,200 meters, causing water to vaporize and flammable materials to ignite within seconds. Only how the device is able to accomplish this is currently unknown and is the subject of continued research on the device. SCP-390 was uncovered by archaeologists at a dig site near what was ancient Syracuse and subsequently reported to the Foundation by an undercover agent embedded in the team. Examination of the site also revealed what appears to be a mount that allowed the device to be precisely rotated and aimed. SCP-390 was recovered along with numerous documents and other minor anomalous artifacts, and Class-B amnestics were administered to the members of the archaeology team. Addendum 391 – Transcript of Recovered Documents The following set of vellum documents written in Hellenistic Greek were discovered in a sealed container at a dig site adjacent to the primary site of SCP-390 and secured by Foundation Field Personnel. Indecipherable, genius. Despite the overwhelming odds, his inventions turned the tide of battle time and time again. Agnes, my love, still fears for our safety, but one cannot stand by the side of this intellectual giant and not see hope rekindled that we may yet win this war. Indecipherable, but it is now nearly a year and a half, and there is no end in sight. The Master has become increasingly desperate, I feel, and toils throughout the night like a man possessed, alone, and cloistered within his workshop where indecipherable. Indecipherable, stomach turns, as I remember the smell of burning Roman flesh and the screams, the horrified screams as the machine set fire to their ships and sold soldiers died by the hundred. If that were not enough, I saw the Master standing atop the machine, laughing as he, Indecipherable. Indecipherable, no longer stand by as he falls ever deeper into madness. Better to become a Roman slave than be the one responsible for such wanton death and destruction as an apprentice to the demon this man has become. I have arranged for a message to be handed to the Roman commander, Indecipherable. Madness upon madness, Marcellus intends to take this mad man as his own, to take his machine of death back to Rome. No, I cannot allow this, I cannot allow the demon to win, I will end his life by my own hand if need be. If I am lucky, the general may even think that his own soldiers, Indecipherable. Forgive me, Agnes. Item number SCP-392 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures All living SCP-392 instances are to be held in a standard greenhouse sector at biological research site 103. Population of SCP-392 instances is to be kept maintained at an upper limit of 10. Standard SCP-392 seeds are to be extracted and kept in cryonic storage at BioSight 103. Description SCP-392 is an artificial plant species created via David Thamaturgy, resembling the species Prunus Pursaca, Peach. According to A Chronicle of the Divas, creation of SCP-392 was attributed to divide Matriarch Walk of the Walk Clan, circa 800 BCE. While originally perceived as an act of social deviance in divide society, cultivation was tolerated and adopted by matrilineal descendants of the Walk Clan, located in contemporary Central Asia and Xinjiang, China. While SCP-392 is physiologically similar to that of Prusaca, one significant difference is that SCP-392 does not produce fruits from the ovary upon flowering. Instead, it produces a series of physically identical male human heads. DNA analysis indicates that they are of the same individual. As the tattoos found on the heads are indicative of human concubineus belonging to divide Matriarchs, it is postulated that the heads grown from SCP-392 represent a human concubineus of the Matriarch Walk Walk. The physiology of heads grown from SCP-392 is mostly identical to that of a human, although the heads lack eyelids, and the seed for SCP-392 is located at the prefrontal cortex. In addition, the heads are capable of responding to external stimuli, as indicated by various reflex actions. PET scans of attached heads have identified neural activity in the brain. Notably, rate of eye movement and neural activity are consistently higher when female humanoid figures are within the head's visual axis, as compared to other types of objects. Below is an abridged list of reflex actions and responses obtained from heads grown from SCP-392. Experiment Log 3921 Test 392-01 Subject D690 Protocol D690 is instructed to wave her hand in front of a head attached to SCP-392. Results Irises of the head move according to the movement of D690's hand. Test 392-2 Subject D690 Protocol D690 is instructed to caress a head attached to SCP-392. Results Irises of the head move toward the region where it is touched. Jaws of the head open at approximately 5 degrees. No vocalization produced. Test 392-3 Subject D690 Protocol D690 is instructed to place her lips over the lips of a head attached to SCP-392. Results Mouth of the head opened, and tongue extended in an attempt to touch D690's lips and tongue. When detached from SCP-392, neural activity and reflex actions from the heads will cease. The heads can be plucked, or will fall from the plant naturally via bureaucracy. When detached from SCP-392, the head will gradually undergo decomposition, allowing the seed to be exposed to water and oxygen. Decomposed matter from the head will then serve as an organic fertilizer for germination. SCP-392 was discovered in the Katsura Imperial Villa at Kyoto, Japan, unexpunged, 1945. Ties to divide culture are later identified via cross-reference of tattoos found on the heads, and this document is subsequently updated with relevant findings from Divite sources, known to the Foundation. Addendum 3921 SCP-392 instances planted at Kyoto was conducted during the Pacific War, as part of a ritual to pray for national prosperity. Those specimens originated from a single SCP-392 seed, which was among the gifts from Emperor Yang of the Sui Dynasty, in response to tribute sent by Japanese envoys. This practice originated from a description of SCP-392 by the envoy Onono Imoko, alleging it to be a symbol of prosperity only found in the households of nobility. Addendum 3922 Due to the mention of the Sui Dynasty, in confirmation of Divite involvement, a copy of A History of China, altered by SCP-140 to include Divite-Chinese interactions, was consulted for additional information. The book mentioned SCP-392 as one of the items looted from captured Divite cities by Chinese soldiers, as early as the Warring States period, circa 475 BCE to 221 BCE. SCP-392 would be cultivated by these soldiers, who harvested and skinned the heads. The skulls would then be passed off as executed enemy combatants, and presented to officials in exchange for promotion and other rewards, e.g. peerage titles, lands, and slaves. The descendants of many clans involved in SCP-392 cultivation gained prominent positions in various Chinese dynasties, up to the imperial families of various dynasties. Addendum 392371 Specialized Containment Proposal Project Yin Yang Subcategory Argus 100 The following proposal consists of a cross-test between SCP-392 and SCP-2733. In exchange of SCP-392 and SCP-2733, circumnavigate ethical issues regarding the use of a live human and long-term maintenance of a live observer. Said cross-test consists of the following phases. 1. One D-Class personnel will be involved in the tending of SCP-392 for a period of one month, and will not be involved in other SCP projects. This is to facilitate priming. 2. Said personnel will then be instructed to open SCP-2733 while thinking of SCP-392. Due to SCP-2733's anomalous effects, it is hypothesized that a head will manifest. 3. SCP-2733 will be kept opened for a test period of one year to examine long-term survival of the head. If long-term survival of the head is possible, further application under Project Yin Yang subcategory Argus 100 will be considered.