 Item Number – SCP-074 Object Class – Euclid Special Containment Procedures – SCP-074 is contained at Site-81, SCP-074 is an active info hazard. No research in evaluating its anomalous properties is to be conducted. All personnel who have previously engaged in research into SCP-074's anomalous properties must never come within 5 km of SCP-074. SCP-074 is contained within a 6 m x 6 m x 3 m reinforced glass chamber, filtered to block all ultraviolet light, and situated within a windowless room, lit by monochromatic safe lights, which serve as secondary containment. A smaller containment chamber would significantly increase the probability of SCP-074 spontaneously breaching primary containment. The containment chamber is to be surrounded with scaffolds bearing sheets of live-cultured human skin, held parallel to the surfaces of the containment chamber, and arranged overlapping each other such that lateral coverage is at least 95%. Skin sheets must be a minimum of 3 mm thick and warm to 37 degrees Celsius, and must be grown from samples provided by D-class personnel with no less than a middle school education and no more than a high school education. All skin sheets are to be examined on a daily basis for instances of SCP-074-1. All instances of SCP-074-1 are to be excised and incinerated. SCP-074 is to be fed 75 grams of fresh shredded apple leaves, genus malus, bark, and fruit, hydroponically grown to ensure lack of pollutants in foreign organisms, once a day, via a mechanical dispenser. In the event of a spontaneous containment breach, personnel can coerce SCP-074 into returning to its containment, by first occupying each of its four sets of jaws with an entire raw apple, then physically pushing SCP-074 in the desired direction, gently tapping its compound eyes with an open palm, or spraying its front pair of antennae with a 0.5% solution of methanoic acid. SCP-074 is an anomalous organism, which uses various quantum properties at a macroscopic scale and in other ways modifies the standard laws of physics within its immediate vicinity. The specific nature of these modifications appears to be linked to the extent to which humans in SCP-074's vicinity are aware of the precise details of the physical laws which SCP-074 modifies, such that research to determine whether SCP-074 has a given property or capability results in SCP-074 developing or manifesting that property or capability. Archive 074-317E, a full list of the anomalous physical phenomena known to be, or to have been associated with SCP-074, is available to personnel level 3 or higher. Personnel who access this document will be disqualified from working with SCP-074, or for any other reason coming within 5 km of Site-81. SCP-074 has repeatedly manifested the ability to spontaneously materialize at locations as much as 3 meters outside its primary containment. This is believed to be, or to be analogous to, quantum tunneling. Foundation entomologists have tentatively identified SCP-074 as belonging to the order Isopoda, commonly known as a woodlouse. Its inertial mass is approximately 1,700 kg, but its gravitational mass is approximately 375 grams. Its volume has been estimated at 1.7 m3, approximately the size of a compact car. SCP-074 is female, although it lacks the typical isopod marsupium, or brood pouch in which eggs are incubated, and parthenogenetic. Periodically, approximately 1.3 times per hour when SCP-074 is shielded from ultraviolet light, and approximately 29.2 times per hour when SCP-074 is exposed to unfiltered daylight. The globular organ at the tip of its ovipositor luminesces, and emits what was originally thought to be a form of non-ionizing radiation, but which has since been identified as coherent wave packets, of the probability of one of SCP-074's self-fertilized eggs, henceforth SCP-074-1, reifying, i.e. becoming a thing, spontaneously coming into existence. Personnel who properly understand the concept of wave packets are disqualified from working with SCP-074. Instances of SCP-074-1 preferentially reify and incubate within the flesh of humans with knowledge of physics. The rudimentary knowledge of physics which even poorly educated adult citizens of a technological civilization can acquire via cultural osmosis. For example, magnets can attract or repel each other, matter is made of atoms, light has a speed, appears to be sufficient. In the absence of suitable humans to serve as hosts, the wave packets will reify within other organisms, or within inanimate objects. However, rather than incubating, the eggs will wither and die, leaving perforations similar to radiation damage at a macroscopic scale. The wave packets appeared at decay over time, as no wave packets or instances of wave packet-related damage have been detected at distances greater than approximately 400 meters from SCP-074. The rate at which successfully incubated instances of SCP-074-1 mature appears to be dependent on the host's exposure to ultraviolet light. Within a host exposed to an average of 30 minutes of unfiltered sunlight per day for a month, an instance of SCP-074-1 was observed to grow from 2 milligrams to 8 kilograms, at which point it was surgically excised and killed. Whereas within a host totally isolated from natural light for a month, the three simultaneous instances reached sizes at excision of only 600 grams, 680 grams, and 710 grams. The complete developmental history and life cycle of SCP-074-1, including how they emerge from their host, and their size at emergence, is not yet known. Item number, SCP-094, Object Class, Keter, Special Containment Procedures. This SCP-094 is apparently immovable. A research and containment facility has been built around its location, in the guise of an Argentinian military research base. No unauthorized persons or aircraft may come within 1 kilometer of the site, enforced by joint SCP and Argentinian forces. SCP-094 itself is enclosed in a gas permeable steel reinforced plexiglass cube, 3 meters on a side, with a single door, also a reinforced plexiglass, in one side. This door must remain locked at all times, except with 05 authorization under tightly controlled conditions. This cube is to be kept in the center of a 20 meter by 20 meter room, accessible with level 4 authorization. All personnel must secure themselves to tethers anchored to the walls before stepping onto the floor of the room. Every personnel are to be armed with tranquilizer guns, in addition to standard armaments. Description, SCP-094 appears to be a perfectly black sphere, 163 centimeters in diameter, suspended approximately 3 meters off the ground with no apparent means of support. SCP-094 has been classified as a miniature event horizon. Any matter that moves into SCP-094, including light, is irretrievably gone. However, SCP-094 is not a black hole, since it does not exert a gravitational pull. SCP-094 has been known to occasionally emit a number of different sounds, including ambient sounds of nature, static buzzing, and sometimes, human speech. No attempts to communicate with SCP-094 have yet succeeded. It is unknown whether these sounds come from SCP-094 itself, from some thing, or things inside of SCP-094, or from some area that connects through SCP-094. A small percentage of persons appear to be drawn to SCP-094 because of the sounds it emanates. SCP-094 was discovered in 1920 in the Chubit province of southern Argentina, and at the time was estimated to be 20 to 25 centimeters in diameter. Analysis of historical records indicates that the diameter of SCP-094 doubles in size, approximately every 31 years. Primary research activities on SCP-094 are concentrated on finding how to stop or reverse its growth, without inducing cataclysmic failure. Addendum The hand on SCP-1032 designated SCP-1032-15 will achieve its midnight event on 9.04.26.90, approximately the same date as SCP-094 will fully engulf the Earth at its current rate of expansion. Note, a few millimeters a month may not seem like much, and no, at the moment you cannot see SCP-094 change day to day, but if it continues its exponential growth, in less than 250 years it will be a kilometer wide, including vertically. And that is assuming it does not grow even faster, which is an assumption that almost no one here makes. Item Number SCP-121 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures Containment Site 83 has been established outside SCP-121 to house personnel dedicated to the containment of SCP-121. The perimeter of SCP-121 is to remain fenced off from the surrounding area, with guards stationed along the perimeter at all times. Guards are to don local military uniforms and remain heavily armed at all times. Rotation of guards is to occur every four hours. The surrounding population is to remain informed that SCP-121 is quarantined, due to persisting hazardous material. Warning signs are to be placed 75, 50, and 25 kilometers out along roads leading to SCP-121 to deter trespassers. Guards who approach the perimeter of SCP-121 are to be reminded of the quarantine and forced to depart. Those who resist are to be detained for questioning. In the event that approaching civilians witness an active instance of SCP-121-1 or 2, Class A amnestics are to be administered. Any meteorological data regarding SCP-121's anomalous effect is to be censored, and SCP-121 has been labeled a no-flight zone to prevent knowledge of SCP-121, 1, and 2. Site Task Force IOTA 71, Home Wreckers, has been established and permanently assigned to Containment Site 83 in response to the threat of SCP-121-2. They are to escort researchers interested in studying non-hostile instances of SCP-121-2, as well as neutralize any instances that have grown to potentially lethal sizes. In the event of an attempted containment breach, IOTA 71 is to assist perimeter guards in the neutralization of the instance of SCP-121-2. Any buildings within SCP-121 that develop into SCP-121-1 are to be recorded and monitored at all times for transition into SCP-121-2. Instances of SCP-121-2 that become innately hostile upon transition are to be neutralized. However, passive instances may continue to dwell within the perimeter of SCP-121 for research purposes until they've grown to a size too dangerous to contain, or become hostile, at which point they are to be neutralized. Description SCP-121 is the region of land occupied by the former town of Colorado. The town was home to roughly 6,800 prior to enactment of current containment protocol and holds roughly 3,000 buildings, both residential and commercial. Clouds above SCP-121 appear incapable of entering an area roughly 12 kilometers in diameter, instead passing around the area. It is speculated this is related to SCP-121's range of effect, but it is not known how at this time. Buildings in SCP-121 will sporadically. No more than one at a time, with 3 weeks minimum between manifestation, detach from any foundations and ascend into the air. At this point, these buildings are identified as SCP-121-1. Instances of SCP-121-1 ascend to a random height of a minimum of 45 meters. Regardless of the previous state of the building, doors and windows become locked and any potential entryways become barricaded by furniture inside. Forced entry has shown an increased ambient temperature of roughly 35 degrees Celsius and a relative humidity of roughly 65%, but a lack of any further anomalous properties. Instances of SCP-121-1 will cease suspension after a minimum period of 10 weeks, but may remain airborne for no more than 15 weeks afterwards. Instances do not show any abnormal levels of durability. A near total destruction of SCP-121-1 upon impact with the ground is common. After impact, the remains of instances of SCP-121-1 will contain an ovoid object approximately 1.2 meters by 1.2 meters by 2 meters, composed of materials consistent with furniture found inside the home. Examination of mostly intact instances of SCP-121-1 show an absence of previous furnishings. The object will begin to locomote on its own accord. At this point, it will be referred to as SCP-121-2. SCP-121-2 begin to form a conglomerate with nearby materials, including debris from SCP-121-1, flora, automobiles, and, on rare occasion, other buildings. SCP-121-2 will continue to attract objects until it forms a body of material 9 meters in height, at which point the body will animate and appear to take on levels of sentience. SCP-121-2 may, at this point, begin to simulate ingesting other material, to continue growing at a considerably slower rate. Ingestion appears to be for the sole purpose of continued growth, as instances have gone prolonged periods of time without material. Certain items have been known to attach to SCP-121-2 instantaneously, despite size and the lack of simulated ingestion. Instances of SCP-121-2 normally resemble animals, capable of locomotion on land, but have been known to take on humanoid forms, and forms that do not resemble any known animal. They are primarily docile, and normally do not display hostility towards personnel unless provoked. However, SCP-121-2 instances have been known to form with innate aggressive and territorial behavior. This behavior has also been observed to develop following the accumulation of certain items, including firearms, bladed weapons, and in one example, the taxidermy head of a bear. SCP-121 came to the attention of the Foundation, when local authorities were flooded with reports of a previously abandoned residence suddenly flying in the sky. The town was evacuated, under the guise of a hazardous material spill, and the residence was observed. Once the instance of SCP-121-1 transitioned into SCP-121-2, SCP-121-2 was quickly neutralized. Following the neutralization, another instance of SCP-121-1 developed, and the town was permanently evacuated and contained. This is the only occasion on which the creation of SCP-121-1 has so closely followed the creation of an instance of SCP-121-2. On 11-04-98, a sound, described as a muffled siren, was heard for approximately 5 minutes. An active instance of SCP-121-1 was suddenly subject to an immense force following the sound, causing the building to prematurely break apart while suspended, before the 10-week minimum. Neighboring towns reported hearing the sound. Local press were informed quarantine staff were being evacuated, due to a temporary elevation and toxic levels. The cause of the sound is currently unknown. Further research is recommended. Three weeks following the sound and the destruction of SCP-121-1, the remains finally fell to the ground. Inside the rubble were remnants of the ovoid object found in SCP-121-2, along with traces of aluminum slag. SCP-121-B On 0509-12, a 1991 Dodge Caravan was found suspended 53 meters in the air. Internal surveillance is at this time impossible due to the windows being obscured by what appears to be wool cloth. Further observation of the vehicle is recommended. Item number SCP-123 Object Class, Euclid. Subcontainment procedures SCP-123 is to be held in a secured facility and is to be securely fastened to the top of a sturdy table by use of straps, chains, a net, or similar device. Absolutely no hooks shall be fastened to the device. The object and table should be centrally located in a room no smaller than 5 meters by 5 meters by 5 meters. No sensitive measuring devices should be used within 100 meters of SCP-123 as their measurements will be noticeably affected. More significantly, absolutely no objects should be inserted into SCP-123 except under experimental conditions. Transfer of SCP-123 shall be made with care and effort made to prevent the object from being shaken or jerked with notable force. SCP-123 shall not, under any circumstances, be transported over large bodies of water by any method. No personnel below level 2 must be allowed in the containment chamber with SCP-123. Any person interacting with the object should wear tight-fitting clothing that has absolutely no straps, laces, or other dangling components. Persons with long hair shall be requested to tie their hair back or wear a hair net. Object is a gray geodesic sphere, 65 centimeters in diameter consisting of 60 triangles. The areas between these triangles are empty, allowing the center of the sphere to be seen. The material the sphere is composed of is unknown, and upon the recommendation of Dr. Ruff, research into the material composition shall be limited to visual observation until further notice. SCP-123 appears to weigh about 3.62 kilograms, though its actual mass is believed to be much higher. The geodesic sphere is hollow, saved for the very center. At the center of SCP-123 is what appears to be a black sphere, approximately one millimeter in diameter. No light can be seen being reflected off or emitted from the black sphere. The core also appears to exhibit significant gravitational force, which massively increases within the confines of the outer geodesic sphere. This gravitational force can be measured using sensitive instruments several dozen meters away. Within approximately three meters, the gravitational pull is apparent to any observer, with dangling objects beginning to be pulled towards the sphere. At the surface of the outer sphere, the gravitational pull doubles the weight of any object placed onto the structure. The inner sphere's qualities are apparent when any small object is inserted within the outer sphere. Any such object quickly accelerates into the object and disappears. Any liquid poured into the object also is sucked into the central sphere. Analysis has shown that light that nears the black sphere is curved towards the center. The amount of gravity exhibited by the inner sphere at its surface suggests that its mass is approximately 1029 kilograms, though the obvious gravity-reducing effect within the outer sphere means that its actual mass may actually far exceed even that. Note that such a mass would ordinarily imply a swatch-gealed radius in the order of 200 meters, way in excess of the approximate 0.5 millimeters actually observed, which can be considered further testament to the outer sphere's gravity-dampening qualities. Gases are affected by the gravity of SCP-123, and the atmosphere pressure at its surface has been measured at 205 kilopascals. However, gases are unable to penetrate the area between the triangles of the outer geodesic sphere. The reason for this is currently unknown, and is currently being studied. It should be noted that the outer sphere and inner sphere appear to act as one. Whenever the outer sphere is moved, the inner sphere follows. Further research has suggested into the nature of this relationship. Addendum SCP-123-A SCP-123 has been suggested as a disposal unit. The researcher currently in charge of SCP-123, Dr. Roo, is concerned about the structural integrity of the geodesic sphere. All requests for disposal must go through Dr. Roo, or request a formal hearing with level 4 personnel. Until further notice, all interaction with SCP-123 is to be restricted to experimentation. Command personnel agree that further research is needed to understand the durability of the outer sphere. Item Number SCP-170, Object Class, Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-170 presents no danger, and as such can be contained safely in any secure storage locker. However, due to the potential misuse of the substance, as well as the limited quantity of SCP-170 available, no personnel may remove it from storage without prior approval from Dr. Roo. Description SCP-170 appears to be a standard tube of superglue, in a yellow tube 13 cm long. There is no manufacturer information, or any other text on the outside of the container, apart from the word superglue, printed in bold letters on the front. However any amount of the substance is applied to solid material, and that solid is put in contact with any surface. Both objects lose molecular cohesion in the area surrounding the contact points, allowing one to be pushed through the other. The effect lasts only moments, however. Within a third of a second of the two surfaces making contact, the ability of each to pass through the other is nullified, leaving both permanently bonded together. SCP-170 was seized, and arrayed on an illegal laboratory in... in 19... The unusual properties of SCP-170 were unknown, until a standard test on all seized materials was performed on it. A laboratory technician used a pipette to extract a small amount of SCP-170 for analysis. Upon attempting to dispense the substance onto a slide, the pipette immediately passed straight through the slide, which was on a mount. Further tests were run upon the pipette slide, and it was discovered that they were bonded on the molecular level. Upon hearing of this, SCP personnel were dispatched to confiscate all seized materials. Notable tests. Test 04. Test materials. One heavy-duty chain, weights of various sizes. Procedure. A small amount of SCP-170 was applied to the last link of the chain, which was then bonded to the reinforced ceiling of containment area 17F. Weights of various sizes were then hung on the chain, to determine the structural falling point of the bond. Results. After approximately nine metric tons were suspended, the chain finally snapped, but not at the bond point. It snapped at the ninth link from the bottom. All links apart from the one embedded in the ceiling were tested, and showed signs of distortion and stretching. However, the bond point in the ceiling showed no sign of weakness, or separation of chain and ceiling. Test 07. Test materials. Two identical cubes of 24 karat gold, as close to 100% pure as possible. Procedure. Using robotic arms to ensure perfect alignment, cube 1, the cube with SCP-170 applied, was pushed completely through cube 2, leaving what appeared to be one gold cube equal in size to either of the original cubes. Results. Upon examination of the sole remaining cube, it was found to have a density of 38.6 grams per centimeter cubed, which is precisely twice the density of gold. When melting the sample did nothing to change this, as the resulting liquid gold also had the same density. This implies that the substances don't displace each other. Every atom is accounted for. Analysis of the atoms has proven that they are regular gold atoms, implying that they don't undergo nuclear fusion to accomplish this increase in density. The atoms are simply packed into a smaller space than the laws of physics would seem to allow. In light of this experiment, Dr. Wren has requested permission to use SCP-170 to glue two pieces of uranium together to make a more fissile sample. Due to the obvious safety concerns this poses, this request was denied. Test 12. Test materials. One D-class personnel, one wooden desk. Procedure. First test using live biological subjects. D-class personnel had a small amount of SCP-170 applied to his right index finger and was instructed to poke the desk. Results. Subjects' fingers sank into the desk up to the first knuckle. Despite obvious panic, the subject reported no pain, discomfort, or sensation below the bond point. However, his finger quickly began swelling and turned purple, as his circulatory system continued pumping blood to an area that could no longer return it. Finger was amputated between the first and second knuckle. Test 19. Test materials. One Pratt & Whitney F-100 jet engine, the reinforced ceiling of containment area 19B. Procedure. SCP-170 was applied to the jet engine mountings, which were quickly pushed 3.2 centimeters, or approximately 1.25 inches, into the ceiling of the chamber. After connecting an appropriate fuel supply and control system, the jet engine was fired. Results. The engine was run continuously at high speed for 40 minutes, while cameras monitored the joint point for any signs of stress. While small cracks appeared in the concrete around the joint point, there were no indications of any possible structural failures, or separation of the two materials, even under a force of 120,000 Newtons. Item Number SCP-184 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures. SCP-184 is not to be contained in any structure. SCP-184 is to be attached to a high power electromagnet at all times. Should the electromagnet fail, agents are to report to SCP-184's containment area and prevent access to all unauthorized personnel until the electromagnet is restored to power. The containment area for SCP-184 is currently configured to resemble a park, with SCP-184 and its containment magnet disguised as statuary. Any and all visitors are to be monitored. Any structures affected by SCP-184 are to be demolished after review by data expunged. Final demolition approval, or inclusion into SCP, will also be determined by this body. No investigation is to be done into affected structures without approval and a rescue team on standby. Description SCP-184 is a small, smooth, metallic object. 10 cm or 4 inches tall and 10 cm or 4 inches wide in the shape of a dodecahedron. Each face of the figure has a circular hole in the center and a small sphere is attached to each vertex. SCP-184 is made of an unknown but highly magnetic alloy, about as hard as brass. When inside an enclosed structure, SCP-184 expands the structure's inner dimensions without altering its outer dimensions. SCP-184 will increase the inner dimensions of any enclosed structure by several hundred meters each day, beginning one hour after entry into the structure. Initially, SCP-184 only extends the walls out, causing rooms to become much larger without adjusting the height of the room. This expansion continues until the original dimensions of the room have been tripled. At this point, SCP-184 starts creating wholly new rooms. SCP-184 is apparently able to copy items from inside the structure, creating furnished rooms consistent with the rest of the structure. After a period of time, however, the expansion process appears to break down. For example, items will be made from inappropriate materials, glass books, a wooden microwave, rooms will be oddly shaped, doors will open into blank walls, and hallways will be tiny or twist back around in long mazes. The new inside structures continue to be more and more odd, while the outside remains unchanged. This behavior is most dramatically illustrated in Holmes. However, it has been observed in other instances, including a cardboard box. The changes do not go away with the removal of SCP-184, but no additional structures are created. Addendum 184-1 Notes from Dr. W... I don't think I need to stress the fact that this thing can never be allowed into Site-19. We may need to look into different containment at some point, but for the time being, we will keep it in the open, immovable, and hidden. Addendum 184-2 Locations of Interest It is currently hypothesized that SCP-184, or an anomaly with a similar effect, may be responsible for the creation of locations of interest, such as Backdoor Soho and Chugoku Cellar. Investigation into SCP-184 as a potential origin for these spaces is ongoing. Addendum 184-38RB Notes on Recovery SCP-184 was recovered in the Kaolunwald City, in June of... Reports of the city's bizarre and explosive growth attracted operatives, who soon learned of SCP-184, held in the possession of data expunged. After several police crackdowns, Mobile Task Force Zeta-9 was dispatched, and recovered SCP-184 with minimal losses. The final effect of exposure to SCP-184 on both the city and inhabitants may never be fully understood, due to the reckless actions of local law enforcement, which destroyed several affected sections of the city, before operatives could take action to prevent it. Interviews with residents yielded minimal information, with a communal wall of silence being the major response. A few documents indicated that SCP-184 could be brought into a home, and allowed to affect the dwelling for 50 pounds sterling per half hour. These documents were unconfirmed by residents. Addendum 184-38RB-S Additional Documentation Personal Log of Gordon Richards, Member of Mobile Team Zeta-9, The Mole Rats Date June 3 Dispatch to the Kowloon Walled City to recover an object and document anything affected by it. I've never seen such a horrible place. The filth is everywhere, whole walls and even structures made of garbage. If you crank your suit for even a second, you get flooded by the smell of smoke, cooking, sweat, machine oil, and excrement. Henry fell into a pit used as a sewer on the ground level after breaking through a trash walkway. He was fine. The suit was just filthy, but he threw up and had to be removed. I'm not sure if he's going to work out. Everyone here avoids us like the plague, or darts out to throw trash, or insults. They are a tribe, and a territorial one at that. The sheer crush of humanity is intimidating, and I'm glad I have the suit between me and them. The object is supposed to be somewhere in the core of this mass, but getting there is going to be tricky. Date. June 4th. Local law enforcement led by agents did a bunch of raids last night. Cleared people out of some of the areas we need to go in, but there are so many people here it's hard to notice any difference. Yesterday's recon helped uncover a couple homes affected by this thing. They don't look like much, the same squall at homes as everyone else. But they are too big inside. Just an odd feeling, standing with your hand on the wall, and knowing that, by all rights, you should be six feet outside the structure, in mid-air. Henry is better today, but seems really jumpy. Lev took him aside and talked to him last night, and I hope it's helped. I'm getting worried about him. Caught him muttering to himself over the radio today. Told him to knock it off, but didn't report it. Maybe I should have. I think I'm going to ask for him to be put on a different unit after this. Deep recon this evening, we're splitting up to try and hunt down where they're storing this thing. Lev and I pulled the short stick, and have to hike it around the sewer system. Honestly, it can't be any worse than topside, at least I won't have to keep seeing the blank empty faces of these people. Date. June 6th. Henry is dead. We didn't get back until early this morning. We'd been off the radio for several hours because of all the interference. It seems areas affected by this thing screw with radio waves pretty bad. The sewer was a nightmare, but no sign of alteration by the item. When we came back up, Paul gave me the news. Henry and Paul were exploring near the center of the city when they got attacked. A mob of people swarmed them, and dragged Henry off. Paul was hurt, and his suit was badly damaged, and he had to leave for medical attention. Henry was screaming over the radio for a while, and then it cut off. Paul and a couple other mole rats charged in with some agents to recover Henry, but after a few minutes, Henry came back on the radio. His receiver was broken, but he could still broadcast. One of the agents was recording, and he played it back to Lev and I to see if any of it made sense to us. It didn't. He was rambling, and sounded like he was hurt. Talking about the endless heart of the city, the hell of glass, just crazy stuff. Paul and the rescue team kept trying to find him, but suddenly his radio cut out again. Henry came tearing down one of those tiny halls, helmet off and screaming like a madman. He ran right by Paul, and smashed an agent into a wall on his way by. He slammed into a dead end and just exploded through it, right out of the building. He fell six stories onto some metal junk. It took an hour to get his body untangled. We're done screwing around here. Agent Park's Lev and me are rounding up what amounts to the city elders, and we're getting to the damn bottom of this. Date June 7th Interrogation went well. Agent Park's asked the questions. We provided what he called negative consequences for non-cooperation. The first guy, some triad punk, didn't want to talk. Two broken legs later, and he was a lot more open. Said the thing was called the builder, and nobody knew when it first came to the city. He never had anything to do with it, just helped stand guard outside rooms where it was working. He said that was all he knew, and that we had to talk to one of the elders, long when, if we wanted it. He apologized for Henry's death, said it was just a way of things. I broke his jaw in three places. Long when may be the oldest looking man I've ever seen, and with a will like iron. He just took everything we dished out, and didn't say a word. Park said that the next stop was his wife and grandkids, and that got him talking. Told us it was kept in one of the oldest parts of the city, some old temple. It had grown, and made wonderful things, but only the worthy could look upon it, and not be overwhelmed by it. He said Henry was shown the wonders, in the hopes that he would be able to convince us not to take the builder, but that he was not worthy, and was broken. We made him show us where they keep it. Long when said it wouldn't do any good, that it was buried too deep. They moved it deep inside when they first caught wind of the agents. He said we'd never get it back. We're doing deep work tomorrow, and we're not coming out without it. June 10th. Been out for a while. This place is amazing. At first it was just a temple that was too big inside. Neat, but nothing new. Then we went in deeper. Whole rooms, altars, everything recreated and rearranged by this... thing. It's like someone built 12 whole temples inside this one tiny structure. Agent Park set up a recall point in the main hall of some other agents to make sure nobody sneaks up on us. We suited up and went to work. It started getting odd after hour six. Lots of hallways, not as many rooms. Then, 83 rooms, all connected by those sliding doors, each with a tiny Buddha in the center of the floor and nothing else. Lev grabbed a few for samples. We knew these things were getting odd when we came to a perfect reproduction of the first altar room, but appearing to be made of one solid mass of wood. Thing was beautiful and totally seamless, and not a single tool mark on anything. Paul found some documents, and we scanned them back to Parks. He said they were about the object. Apparently, they're calling it SCP-184 now. Parks said it talks about how they moved 184 deeper each time it made a new area. They thought it was some gift from God or something. Used it to expand rooms, if people would donate to the temple, or at least to the gangs that controlled it at the time. I've never been in a place like this. It's getting harder to maneuver. The halls are starting to get strange. They go up at funny angles, and the last few rooms have been tiny. By Lev's count, we should be 20 feet above the roof of this whole city by now. Date? June 12th? I'm getting sick of this place. Came to a branch yesterday, had to split the team. I drew the up-hall way, and set out. Not sure how long I've been climbing. The halls aren't regular anymore. They wave in and out, like a frozen earthquake. Everything seems to be made of stone here. Managed to squeeze into a side room to catch my breath, once I looked around, and saw everything was made of jade. It was all colored right, and had the right texture, but it was jade. Bed, chairs, table, books, everything. I sat on the bed for two hours and didn't think. I got up and smashed the jade lamp that was probably worth more than my life, and left. I'm not feeling well. I feel really disconnected here, like an astronaut or something. It's not like other areas I've been in. Never felt so alone. I'm fine. I know that. It's Henry dying, the whole rotten city outside, that me being alone and able to think too much. Rats are tested for mental stability, and I pass with flying colors. It's just my nerves. I'm sitting on a chair made of thousands of tiny dragon statues, writing on a table made of super-dense paper, and I am fine. Date. June. I've been out too long. Good low, water low, not out yet, but getting there, hearing things. Keep thinking I hear voices, been climbing for days. Saw light today, at the end of a side hall, bright yellow light. I climbed into the hall and ran, smashed through the door, and it was a room. Millions of candles, all lit, but just another room. Stomped off my helmet, smashed the candles with it. Broke my lenses, neck seal, radio, didn't care. Sat and cried for hours. Dropped a pic down the shaft today, never heard it hit bottom. Almost jumped to go get it, but stopped. Got to find this thing. Going to smash it to bits. Stomp it. Crush it. Date. June. Food out. Suit can't make any more water. Saw a hall with 10,000 doors. Ran down it, smashed a bunch, then kept climbing. Lost my boots. Floor looked like carpet, made of super sharp stone. Cut soup to ribbons. Feet too. Blood all over the shaft. Hope it appreciates it. Going to crush this thing. Feel it shatter in my hand. Date this place. Keep hearing Henry. Keep telling him he's dead. Won't listen. Date. Unknown. Top of shaft. Hall to forever. Lights everywhere. Going to kill the heart. Date. Unknown. Hell is heaven. Heaven is hell. Life is wonderful. Notes. Gordon Richards went missing during the recovery of SCP-184. Presumed, KIA. SCP-184 recovered by Team Zeta-9. Journal recovered in Rubble. 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