Item number. SCP-050. Object Class. Euclid. Special Containment Procedures. So far, all attempts to contain SCP-050 have proven fruitless. At present, whoever has possession of SCP-050 is to leave it in an office they use with regularity. Additional notes. Testing to contain SCP-050 has been discontinued at this time. Attempts to leave SCP-050 in unused offices have resulted in it following its owner home. This is a violation of regulations and not to be allowed. Description. SCP-050 appears to be a statue of a monkey reading a book, approximately one foot tall. On the bottom of the statue are engraved the words, to the cleverest, incursive script. One of the quirks of SCP-050 is that, no matter what form of measurement is used, any record of said measurements will quickly be replaced by the customary system measurements. The statue is so far proven resistant to all forms of damage. Attempts to damage SCP-050 have resulted in increasingly lethal pranks. As of this writing, destruction testing is discontinued. As such, there is no accurate method to date the object. When left alone, SCP-050 has shown itself to be both useful and antagonistic to its current owner. Although never seen to move, no matter the manner or amount of recordings, any room it is left in becomes very clean to polish whenever possible. Paperwork is filed, trash is emptied, and in general clutter is removed. However, SCP-050 also has a tendency to leave traps for its owner, so current holders should carefully check their offices upon returning. Document 050, The Great Researcher Prank War. During an attempted capture of SCP-963 by Chaos Insurgency Agents, Dr. Breik made use of 963's intrinsic capabilities to make fools of the attempted kidnappers. When Breik returned to his office, he found a monkey statue waiting for him. His office had been tidied in his absence, and everything filed away, which came as something of a shock for the naturally messy Dr. Breik. Upon further investigation, it was found that, despite the apparent tidiness of his office, all of his pens had been drained of all but the last bit of ink, and several important documents had been translated into Aramaic. Dr. Breik immediately began the usual testing of this new SCP, but found himself going nowhere, until Dr. Reitz, as payback for something unspecified, smeared his desk with one half of a compound epoxy, and applied the other half of the compound to his utensils. At this point, SCP-050 vanished from Dr. Breik's office, reappearing in Dr. Reitz's office, where upon 050 began the cleanup again. After several tests, it became apparent that SCP-050 was easily contained, as long as no one outside the Foundation proved to be cleverer than the Foundation scientists. Of course, this led to many of the Foundation scientists seeking to claim the title of most clever for themselves, and thus began the great researcher prank war. Memorandum 050A, no good will come of this. 05- Entry 1. Dr. English accesses SCP-705. 705 has allowed access to approximately 100 pounds of similarly colored Play-Doh. After several minutes' conversation, the new army retreats to the ventilation shafts. No footage of Dr. Breik's room exists, but several hours later, Dr. Breik stumbles out, covered in little red welts and red Play-Doh, swearing and muttering. SCP-050 transfers ownership to Dr. English. Entry 2. Agent Strelnikov is seen exiting his room in full rage, carrying a machine gun. Smoke pours from the open door of his quarters. Senior researcher Isendorf is later found to be in possession of 050, proving that a good enough prank will attract 050's attention, no matter the target. Entry 3. Dr. Isendorf returned from a brief coffee break to discover a typed note sitting on his desk, rewritten here. Dr. Isendorf, it seems there was a problem with the Class A amnesiac you requested following your SCP-231 assignment. Please hop on the next plane leaving from the site, and wait until someone comes and picks you up so that we can get this all sorted out. Cheers! 050. Despite factual and stylistic errors in this note, inappropriately informal style, the fact that there is no Overseer 3.14, Dr. Isendorf apparently took the note seriously and became highly distressed. Dr. Isendorf boarded the next airplane leaving Site-23, which turned out to be a regularly scheduled flight traveling to Site-19. Dr. Isendorf apparently did not realize this until landing, at which point he still waited over eight hours outside the site, before a guard found him and asked him what he was doing. Dr. Isendorf soon confirmed that he had never been assigned to SCP-231, and quickly worked out what had happened. SCP-050 was observed in the office of Dr. Kondraki later that same day. 050. Entry 4. At 7.28 pm, Dr. Kondraki was called away by Assistant Researcher House, under the pretense of an SCP-173 containment breach. Security cameras recovered footage of the ensuing prank. Upon returning to his office, Kondraki pauses briefly when he reaches his door.  It was later revealed that Dr. Calde had placed a replica of SCP-173 in Kondraki's office, positioned in such a way that it faced the door, establishing eye contact with whoever might enter the room. Kondraki continued to retreat until slipping on a hitherto unnoticed puddle of cooking oil. The replica of SCP-173, made of wire frame, paper mache and spray paint, was relocated to Dr. Joseph Calde's office, shortly followed by SCP-050. Entry 5. Upon returning to his office, Dr. Calde was surprised to find the statue replaced with a note, reading, I can't believe no one's thought of this. The statue was later located in the staff locker of Agent Yorick, who had simply stolen it. Entry 6. Statue returned to Calde, Yorick's living space in utter disarray. Agent Yorick is found unconscious. The words, to be earned, tattooed on his forehead through unknown means. Entry 7. Maintenance teams were called 27 times to Dr. Calde's office while he was out, all having received orders to install, repair, or remove a piece of furniture from the office, apparently at random. Dr. Calde became increasingly paranoid about these intrusions, considering his possession of SCP-050, and decided to bring his paperwork and the SCP back to his quarters and work from there. Upon entering his quarters, Dr. Calde was doused by the contents of a bucket, carefully balanced on the entrance's door jam. Ownership of SCP-050 changes to Dr. Light. Entry 8. Dr. Coleman was seen pinning a notice to the Break Room Notice Board, which read, due to the effects of SCP-050, all personnel who have received an amnesiac of any kind within the past six months are required to report to Dr. Light immediately. This was signed and notarized by no fewer than 17 members of 05 Command and Senior Staff. After seeing this, an email was immediately sent out, retracting the information and causing mass panic among some of our more paranoid employees. After what can only be described as a bum rush on Dr. Light's newly refurbished office, resulting in the destruction of many items contained within, SCP-050 was found on Dr. Coleman's desk. Entry 9. Dr. Coleman was called out of his quarters by an email from an unknown source. Five minutes later, security footage showed Dr. Okagawa entering Schumacher's quarters, carrying a bag with unknown contents and leaving the room a few minutes later without the bag. Upon returning, Coleman discovered a dead rodent which appeared to have been slathered in the secretions of SCP-447. Personnel in adjacent rooms reported hearing a stream of profanity, followed by a thud. Worried researchers found him passed out on the floor, while the slime was later identified as green gelatin from the kitchen and the dead rat as a rubber toy. SCP-050 was later found in Dr. Okagawa's office. Entry 10. Video log. 12.34 pm. Dr. Okagawa leaves for the cafeteria, presumably for lunch or late breakfast. Researcher Chappalski is seen entering Dr. Okagawa's office, carrying several testing vials and SCP-1. Left the office five minutes later, closing the door behind him rather hurriedly. Okagawa returns ten minutes later, opens the door, and is snagged by a large tentacle which pulls him into the office and shuts the door behind him.  The team is seen trying to neutralize the cephalopod and free Okagawa. The animal's remains were subsequently destroyed. SCP-050 has been located in Researcher Chappalski's office. Entry 11-1. Researcher Chappalski came in to work at approximately 0800 hours and promptly received a pie in the face. Courtesy of Project Director Jones. SCP-050 was found on Project Director Jones' desk later that afternoon. What? That wasn't original at all. Dr. Bright. Entry 11-2. Project Director Jones reported to his post researching SCP-1. Upon entering the facility, he was met by Researcher Chappalski, who threw two pies at his face. SCP-050 was found in Researcher Chappalski's office ten minutes later. Entry 11-3. Chappalski entered his office to find Project Director Jones waiting for him with three pies, which he promptly threw at the researcher's face. SCP-050 appeared in Jones' workplace that evening. Guys, I think we broke it. Project Director Jones. Entry 11-4. In the middle of the workday, Dr. Bright entered Jones' research lab with four pies, which he threw in his face. As he was leaving, security footage records him saying, this better not f***ing work. SCP-050 was on Dr. Bright's desk upon his return. Notes.  Okay, no more f***ing pies. Alright. Project Director Jones. Entry unintelligible. An error occurred in the Foundation main database, reassigning System Technician Kent to a squad alongside the cleaning crews. During the assignment, Joshua Kent was ordered to f***ing sewage with several gallons of feces on his head. During the second half of the assignment, Kent had to test several eyes, despite the odour. During this time, a routine system sweep had found a virus in the database. Despite the numerous nearby systems that could have been infected, SCP-1337 concerning System Technician Kent's assignment. System Technician Kent was returned to Site-23, largely unharmed. SCP-050 was discovered sitting by a hard drive heavily infected with SCP-732, with the statue seeming to consider the virus its new owner. Entry 13 and 14. Data expunged. Entry 15. Dr. Light connected the SCP-732 infected hard drive to a scanner and asked 732 if it could produce lolcat images on request. Its response presented in the form of an 8,000 word erotic story featuring itself in the form of a man named Lord Kickass. Dr. Light and r*** was that with the help of SCP-050 it can do anything. Dr. Light provided SCP-732 with scanned photographs of SCP-577, SCP-529, SCP-607, then two instantiations of SCP-331. SCP-732 produced 10 lolcat images for each photograph. Dr. Light then provided SCP-732 with SCP-637 in the form of a drawing by SCP-637-2. As a result of this, SCP-732 was rapidly overwritten with an estimated 63 gigabytes of text describing SCP-637's actions and appearance. Whether this information could have filled all available computer memories unknown. As the last actions of the Lord Kickass instantiation were to induce total mechanical failure to its hard drive, accompanied by catastrophic uncontrolled oxidation, SCP-050 was found in Dr. Light's office the next morning. Note, SCP-637-2 reports that SCP-637 was not harmed by its venture into SCP-732, but that its fur was really messed up. Note, other copies of SCP-732 seem unaffected by the suicide of Lord Kickass. Item number, SCP-068, Object Class, Safe. Special Containment Procedures. SCP-068 is to be kept away from any metals in an electrically resistant box, preferably made of polytetrafluoroethylene or Teflon and rubber. Said box is to be stored in Security Locker 26 at Site-11. Key is kept with Dr. Light. Any requests for testing are to be redirected to him. Description. SCP-068 is a wire stick figure, 9.8 centimeters tall, made of an unknown metal. The figure is composed of a single wire looping back to the center. The wire itself appears to have been bent numerous times in multiple places. When an electric current is introduced to SCP-068, it becomes animate, moving about on its own. SCP-068's joints are where normal human beings would be. Once activated, SCP-068 begins to search for any metallic material. Once metal has been found, SCP-068 will begin to need it and pull a thin strip of metal off. SCP-068 will then construct another figure similar to itself. The newly created figure will begin to need the remaining metal alongside the original, creating new figures, which in turn produce more replicas. SCP-068 will move on to its next stage after one of two requirements are met. The first is when there are no more metals in range with enough mass to produce another figure. The other is when an upper limit of 102 replicas are created. When either of these events occur, all figures will converge at one location and begin forming themselves into as big a figure as possible. With a maximum of 102 mini figures, the resulting figure reaches two meters in height. SCP-068 situates itself in the intersection of the torso, arms, and head. Gamma, beta, and theta waves begin emanating from SCP-068 after this union. SCP-068 will then begin to search for metals again, attempting to create more figures, only scaled up to whatever size 068 is currently at. These replicas do not emanate brainwaves like 068 does. If 068 is not at the maximum size limit after this, it will continue to create and add more figures to itself until the limit is reached. Once it has reached the second stage and there are no metals available from which to construct figures, SCP-068 returns to its dormant state after four minutes and 32 seconds of activity. Materials surrounding the original figure must be melted away in order to retrieve 068. SCP-068 is capable of kneading and manipulating any metal presented to it, regardless of properties. It also appears to be impervious to any attempts to damage or destroy it. Copies of SCP-068, however, have the same properties and vulnerabilities as whatever metal they were constructed from. SCP-068 can detect metals hidden from view through an as of yet unknown process. While 068 will not attempt to reach metals that are too difficult to get to, it will tear through anything that is soft enough for its limbs to penetrate. What it considers soft enough changes depending on what 068 is shaped from at the time. Addendum 068-A, a proposal has been made to use SCP-068 to dispose of dangerous metal-based SCPs. Addendum 068-B, the proposal to use 068 for disposal of dangerous metal-based SCPs has been denied. Seeing as how many, if not all, of our dangerous metal-based SCPs are also invincible, the only thing we would have is a bunch of invulnerable wire figures running about. Honestly, who even thought this up? Dr. W... Item number SCP-073 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-073 is to be kept in a two-room cell furnished with all non-organic furniture and items and a bathroom. Subject is allowed to freely wander the facility and eat in the main canteen. A tracking device has been attached to SCP-073's person and is not to be removed. Subject is disallowed any contact with the surface and is not allowed outside the facility. Subject is allowed no contact with plant-based SCPs under any circumstances. Violence is not to be used against SCP-073 under any circumstances. SCP-073 is currently kept in Site-17. Description SCP-073 appears to be a heavily tanned male of Arabic or Middle Eastern descent in his early 30s, 185 cm or 6 feet and 1 inches tall and 75 kg or 165 lbs with black hair and blue eyes. Arms, legs, spinal cord and shoulder blades of the subject appear to have been replaced with artificial versions of unknown make and metal. Subject only takes notice of this when it is pointed out and states that it has no knowledge of how, why or when these replacements took place, stating it had them as long as it could remember. There is a symbol engraved into the forehead of the subject which appears to be of Sumerian origin. Symbol has as of yet been untranslated and subject appears distressed when the symbol is mentioned at all, refusing to speak on it. Subject does not need to eat and drink on a regular basis, but is strictly carnivorous, owing to its effect on plant-based items. SCP-073, who refers to itself as cane, is generally polite and genial to all who speak to it, though it has been described as being cold and somewhat mechanical in its speech. It is very helpful and enjoys aiding personnel in their daily actions, whatever they may be. It has highly detailed knowledge of ancient to recent events in history and most commonly spoken languages in the world, including ones that have since died out. Subject has professed to having a photographic memory, remembering word for word all text in an 800-page dictionary that was flicked through in a minute and a half. It has scored above average in all intelligence tests given to it. SCP-073's presence is inimical to any in all life grown in soil, causing death to any such life within a 20-meter radius. Any land SCP-073 has walked on, and any within the 20-meter radius becomes barren as all anaerobic bacteria dies, rendering the soil incapable of supporting life until new bacteria are introduced. Anything that is derived from soil-grown life, such as wood and paper, immediately rots and disintegrates upon touch of SCP-073. Further affected derivatives include anything hydroponically grown. Violence directed towards SCP-073 reflects any damage inflicted on SCP-073 directly back onto the attacker, although SCP-073 visibly remains unharmed. This applies to any damage directed at SCP-073. Attempts to get tissue and blood samples have proven futile. When the procedure was initiated, personnel carrying out the action felt the sensation of whatever was applied to SCP-073 and wound up with a sample of their own blood or tissue. Despite the fact that all actions were directed solely at SCP-073, indirect damage through a medium also results in the person perpetrating the action receiving the wounds caused. Although SCP-073 receives no actual harm from damage to its person, it has stated that it still feels the pain of the action and has politely asked researchers to abstain from overly harmful actions to its person. Additional Notes SCP-073 was found in the New York Police Department in 19... having been taken in after subject had been found amidst the bodies of several violent gang members.  SCP-073 was incarcerated and was deemed a John Doe when NYPD could not find any information on it. SCP-073 came to the attention of the Foundation through a routine inspection of John Doe's and was subsequently released into our custody. Addendum 073-1 In light of SCP-073's indestructible nature, photographic memory, and general will to please, High Command have deemed that all information is to be backed up on SCP-073 ensuring it is not lost in the event of a catastrophe. While this action has met with mixed responses, SCP-073 has agreed and sworn itself to secrecy on its part. Addendum 073-2 When information concerning SCP-076 was brought to the attention of SCP-073 for backing up, subject showed familiarity with the information, although was disinclined to adding to it despite the fact that it stated that it already knew all about SCP-076. It then stated it would be better for all parties involved that it not meet SCP-076. Addendum 073-3 Examination of the unidentified metal on SCP-073 has suggested that it is Beryllium Bronze, a metal that has been documented as being utilized by various anomalous cultures and entities. Most notably, Beryllium Bronze is a component found in SCP-1216, SCP-1427, SCP-2481, and SCP-2711. In light of this discovery, the Foundation began working in an attempt to trace the origin of Beryllium Bronze, and how it initially spread throughout the world. When prompted, SCP-073 was able to provide information that suggests that Beryllium Bronze originated in the Middle East, though the exact point of origin has yet to be determined. Further research into the origin of Beryllium Bronze is currently ongoing. Item Number SCP-090 Object Class, Keter Special Containment Procedures Artifact is to be held in a secure bunker in the facility at Site- and constantly monitored by approved Class D personnel. The object's new arrangement is to be imaged every time it shifts. New arrangements are fed into the facility's Class OT supercomputer. Division Chief is to be notified of all changes in current estimates every half hour. No personnel is to touch SCP-090, except under order undisclosed. AXA security level has been created for monitoring SCP-090. Non-AXA personnel found in the facility will be terminated. Description SCP-090 was located and retrieved in an undisclosed location on April 10th, 19- prior to retrieval, SCP-090 had been located in a chamber at the nearby Cathedral. SCP-090 was removed. The Cathedral burned. Six monks and the priest were terminated. SCP-090 has been located at Site- since the retrieval. Object's initial location prior to the Cathedral is unrecorded. SCP-090 is a black cubic structure, 20 cm x 20 cm x 20 cm, made of an unknown ceramic material. Object is classified as indestructible, following tests outlined in document 090B, unattached. Each side is divided into 10,000 individual squares, in arrangements similar to a Rubik's cube, 100 segments per edge, each segment 2 mm wide. Each square has part of a design, etched into the surface. Etchings glow white. Unknown internal structure causes the realignment of a single row or column roughly every 2.8 seconds. Vague records of the object's alignments have been kept since 1242 CE, but those kept before 1533 CE have been lost. Modern technology has allowed the exact alignments to be imaged and recorded, as well as studied. Segments are divided by a thin white line, unless they are aligned correctly with the square directly adjacent to them. There are 22 correct alignments on the object's surface currently. D-023016 is currently the only alignment of 3 adjacent segments on the surface of SCP-090. B-10023 and C-043077 are the 4-segment alignments. There is also a 6-segment alignment. Full item completion has been hypothesized to cause an unparalleled disaster to occur. Addendum, document 090A, Dr. Brown experiment notes. Experiment 0012. Observation is going well. We have managed to develop a system to record and analyze the shifts in the cube almost as quickly as they occur. No correlation between shifts and any world events found yet. Experiment 0048. We observed a 6-segment alignment today on the first side. It was noted and passed without incident. Two hours later, a research assistant returned from the break room with news that a tsunami had occurred in the Indian Ocean and caused hundreds of thousands of deaths and extensive property damage. No correlation is currently known, but we will make note of it. Experiment 0150. After our 112th alignment on the 4th side of the cube and 120th accident report in the lab, we are designating the 4th side as local and will implement safety measures tomorrow. Staff are discouraged from making bets regarding the outcome of alignments. Experiment 0172. A 6-segment alignment was recorded this morning on the local side. As a safety precaution, sightment was evacuated. Two hours later, a containment breach occurred that resulted in no loss of life due to the evacuation. Object determined to predict events, not cause them. First side designated as global. Upgrade to Euclid's status requested. Experiment 0240. We stepped up our experiments today by attempting to modify the cube itself. When D-class personnel attempted to make a shift, SCP-090 immediately created a 10-segment alignment of its own accord near the top left corner of the local side. Exactly two hours later, SCP-090 broke containment and data expunged. Two agents were also lost during the incident. Recommended forced shift testing of SCP-090 postponed. Upgrade to Ketter's status approved. As SCP-090 is obviously capable of causing events of its own accord, object may be sentient. SCP-093-T2. Mirror tests. Testing protocols. Subjects testing SCP-093 must wear a Class III buckle harness strapped to the chest and attached to a tension pulley system, allowing for 300 meters or roughly 1,000 feet of movement. Additional spools may be added to extend movement if necessary. The clasps connecting these spools must be high-grade and capable of withstanding applied force of 0.2 tons. A field kit containing the following should be standard issue for testing of SCP-093. One wrist-mounted light source with three hours lifespan and additional power sources providing up to six additional hours. Four 0.5 liter water bottles with water. Four MREs of any type, plus two plain granola bars, chocolate chips allowed. One standard issue Beretta 9mm firearm with 24 rounds of ammunition, loaded. This is not to be issued until subject has passed into a mirror using SCP-093 and should be given under armed supervision, ensuring that the subject passes through entirely. This item is to be requisitioned first upon subject's return and subject to be made aware of this before leaving line of sight within SCP-093's mirror. One standard issue field knife. The subject is not to be made aware of this item and must find it on his own within the kit. The subject must also be attached to a video system with the camera mounted on the subject's head or shoulders. The video device should be cable-based and allow for the same length of travel as the return system. Wireless cameras have shown mixed results and should only be used in testing conditions where SCP-093 is a currently known color. New colors must be tested using wired feed. During testing, the color of SCP-093 must be recorded, as well as history of the subject in terms of their incarceration to identify how SCP-093 determines the color to assume. A link appears to be connected to guilt or a lack thereof in the subject's psyche. The attached test results should be read in order. Mirror Test 1 Color Blue Subject is D20384, male, 34 years of age, strong physique. Subject's background shows instance of murder and attempted suicide. Subject is cooperative in all steps of testing. Subject entered the provided mirror while holding SCP-093 which emitted a blue color. Outside, technicians observed that the mirror retained a true reflection until Subject had completely passed into it, at which time the view changed to an outdoor landscape heavily tinged in blue. Video feed follows an attached media. Camera activates, flickers to view. Subject is looking out over the same field reported by technicians. Looks like typical lowland planes. Everything has a heavy blue tinge overlapping the normal colors. No discernable landmarks visible as Subject Pan's view left to right. Only grass, weeds, and a breeze moving the taller grass. No trees, no living beings visible. Subject moves forward as instructed, traveling for approximately 500 steps before something becomes visible. A patch of the land up ahead is barren, and grass can be seen dying as Subject approaches it. Approximately 300 steps forward, Subject is standing before a hole in the ground. The hole has been dug using unknown tools of primitive origin. Pulley system engaged, and the camera suffers a light shutter. Subject is instructed to enter the hole, and after mild protesting, agrees to do so. There is no apparent method of descent such as ladder or rope. Subject relies entirely on his own hands and the pulley system to slow the descent. Approximately 100 meters of cable is used before a bottom is reached. Light source provided in Field Kit activated 50 meters down when outside sources become unreliable. Sweeping gestures of the light reveal nothing more than dirt, even at the bottom of the hole. Subject moves forward with assistance of light source. Asked about the blue tinge, Subject expresses confusion and says there is no such tinge from his perspective and never was. Light is visible down the passage, and 150 meters of cable has been used. Out of the camera's eye, sound is recorded of the firearm being prepared. When questioned about these actions, Subject states justified precaution and moves forward. The tunnel turns from bare dirt to a concrete enclosure. Subject complains of a stench. The light source is revealed to be sealing light fixtures, a series of which with less than a quarter broken, while the others function. A series of six doors, three to a side, span before the camera view with the seventh door visible at the end of the corridor that has been blocked by what looks like generic metal shelving debris. Debris shows signs of rusting and is typical of retail store units, suggesting other human presences. Subject requested to try doors in whatever order he chooses. Subject tries first door on the right, door is locked, does not open. Second door tries to open but does not budge, unlocked but blocked. Closing second door, third door is tried, same results as first. Going up the other side, the third door does open fully and light is bright in the room. Portable light switched off at this time as Subject pans camera to inspect room. Room is bare, no contents but walls are filthy. Subject states material on walls isn't dirt but he can't identify it. Seems to resemble melted plastic but is brown in color rather than black. Door is closed. Second door on left side has no handle, does not move when pushed. The hole where the handle was is plugged by unknown material. All doors are shaped in such a way that nothing can visibly escape from the sides and space for movement is too thin to look through even at ground level. First door on left hand is locked but part of key is present in lock from stem to the ridges. The back has been broken off. With effort, Subject manipulates key to open door and immediately begins coughing, complaining of a stench. Walls of room are clean, as is floor. Ceiling is coated in the same strange brown material as the third room. In this room, there is a makeshift cot made from aged blankets with a pillow, a wooden crate containing open boxes of what appears to have been foodstuffs. Language appears on video as squiggles. However, Subject states they simply read cereal. A second crate in the room contains what appears to be empty water bottles that have dried out. A book lays next to the cot, closed. No title or identifying marks. On the wall is what appears to be clipped articles but language cannot be read. Subject asks to remove clippings for retrieval. All articles but one crumble at the touch due to age. The intact article is put in a field sample container and seems the most recent compared to the others. Asked to investigate the book, Subject begins to move toward it. Audio on the tape goes strange, and a high-pitched screeching noise like grinding metal dominates all communication for 3.5 seconds. Subject has not touched the book still and when the noise stops, Subject asks control to repeat request. Control made no requests during that time as headsets were removed. Subject advised to leave room and notes that the door has begun closing slowly on its own, and if left alone, will close. Subject advised to leave door alone and to investigate door on right. Careful review of the following 10 seconds of tape shows that as the camera pans, a figure is visible at the end of the tunnel where the seventh door is. The door is open, only enough for a face to be seen through a crack just before the door silently closes. No details can be seen. Subject investigates the second door on the right with no mention of anything out of the ordinary. This door when pushed against moves, and after repeated bashings, moves enough to view inside at an angle. A cork board is visible with more articles attached to it. The top of a box of cereal can be seen on the floor and what appears to be a hand, laying palm up. Subject closes door and pans camera past door 7, which remains closed. Seeing nowhere else to explore, Subject requested to return. Subject poses no protest, and complains of ever increasing stench. As Subject returns back down tunnel, his camera feed does not change or show anomaly, but control reports a sudden surge in cable movement, pulling an additional 100 meter of cable through, before going slack again, and then tightening. Video feed shows Subject ascending tunnel slowly while control attempts to verify integrity of the pulley system. Subject requested to stop ascent, but states he is not climbing, the rope is pulling him up. Panic sets in on both sides, and Subject informed to ready firearm. Upon reaching top of hole, nothing is visible on camera, and Subject reports nothing has changed in landscape, then begins a return trip following the path of the cable. Traveling for approximately 900 steps, Subject asks how much cable he has used. Control admits they are unsure due to complications, but Subject traveled in a straight line to reach the hole, so it should be a straight line back. Subject becomes concerned when he states that more cable is visible now, moving in a 90 degree angle, away from a point in the ground. Subject pans camera around full circle slowly. On film, behind Subject, a crowd of 37 countable figures stand silently, features are unidentifiable, and they are lacking the blue tinge that dominates the landscape. Panic breaks in control again, but Subject notes only oddity as being the cable having an angled path. Subject tugs his end of the cable, it is taut, and does not move. Control begins to reel in the pulley system, and slack rapidly winds. Watching the angled cable, movement can be seen, as grass is disturbed further down the angled portion from the reeling in, then the line vibrates as it meets resistance, and emits a twang from the recoil. Subject's camera pans back a long length of cable, which now appears to slowly be allowing more slack, before suddenly, all slack is returned, and pulley system begins again. Control requests Subject return following cable path, and screams are caught on the audio, with panic from Subject. Five shots fired as Subject aims pistol at something not visible on camera. Control reports being able to see Subject returning toward point of origin, while camera shows wire disappearing into a point, floating in the air. As Subject passes this point, all cable is now in the pulley system, and camera films only the floor. Control reports that the mirror took approximately five seconds to return to a reflection, and SCP-093 remained blue in color, until one hour after being recovered from Subject. A vile-smelling fluid was present on Subject's clothes around his hands when firearm was recovered. This fluid dried quickly, and was deemed insignificant of study, due to lack of quality sample. Control personnel monitoring the mirror state having seen a massive human being. Crawling on the ground, easily fifty times the size of a normal person, with no facial features, and a very short arm reach, pulling itself toward the mirror, before it returned to a reflection. Due to proximity, fine details could not be made out, but at least one observer noted the being appeared to have been shot from the marks in the otherwise smooth, featureless face. Field test kit recovered from Subject, containing a newspaper article that reads, data expunged, and was filed as item data expunged. The next test is classified as the green test. Mirror test two, color green.  Subject's background shows instance of Grand Theft Auto, in second degree murder of two children during escape with vehicle. Subject is cooperative in all steps of testing. Subject entered the provided mirror while holding SCP-093, which emitted a green color. Outside, technicians observed that the mirror retained a true reflection, until Subject had completely passed into it, at which time the view changed to a farming landscape, heavily tinged in green, similar to the first test. Video feed follows in attached media. Camera activates, flickers to view. Subject is looking out over the same farmland reported by technicians. All greens through video feed are deeper, and green tinge overlays the normal colors of objects similar to the blue tinge in test one. No landmarks from test one are discernible, as Subject pants camera over area. Present is a field, long abandoned, in the middle of which stands the remains of a scarecrow of unknown design. Fragments left are rotted and torn. Nothing grows in the tilled land. A farmhouse is visible to the right of the field, large, two stories. A basement shelter entrance is visible at one end. Subject prepares her sidearm immediately, and is asked by control to relax before proceeding, her heavy breathing dominating the audio feed. Subject takes a few minutes and announces that she's fine, then proceeds as directed to walk the perimeter of the farmhouse. Children's bicycles, two, a boys and girls, lay against the house near the shelter doors. One of the doors to the shelter lay in the grass, torn from the entrance, as evidenced by splintering wood. On the stairs lay clothes, arranged, in a descending order, shoes to shirt going down them, belonging to a boy. Subject begins screaming at control, asking if this is some sort of sick joke. Control assures her they have never seen this environment either, and to please calm down. Subject takes several minutes to regain herself before continuing. It is unknown if SCP-093 is linking the subject's past with her landscape. After several minutes, subject agrees to continue. Communication to subject is muted, and conversation of control making commentary about subject's jittery attitude make up audio for one and a half minutes. Communication restored as subject reaches bottom of stairs. The cellar of the farmhouse is unremarkable and typical. Several wooden shelves line the far wall containing unidentified canned substances. Broken light fixtures sway gently from support beams. Camera is panned across the basement slowly. No evidence of footprints are visible, and the basement can be assumed to have been abandoned for some time. Subject begins to comment about a stench. As subject pans the area, a metal hatch is visible in the ground, similar to a bulkhead on a submarine with a turn handle. Subject remarks that the smell is at its worst around the hatch, and the dirt around the hatch is noted as being clumped and clay-like. The handle of the hatch is old, and the paint chipped. Subject coerced into turning the handle, which, when fully turned, opens the hatch. Subject begins coughing at the release of assumed old stale air. When camera is tilted to view down the hatch, it is a white concrete tunnel, similar to the one found in the Blue Experiment, but in much better condition. Subject asks to descend the ladder and close hatch behind her. After some convincing, subject agrees to descend, but does not close the hatch. Overlooked concerns about severing the pulley return system and doing so are acknowledged. Descent down the ladder and trip to the farmhouse has consumed approximately 53 meters of cable when bottom is reached. The inside of the hatch appears to be a bunker, ill-suited to long-term storage. It is spacious, about half the size of the actual cellar itself, containing three bunks, one for a couple, and two for single use. Several boxes of food similar to those found during Blue marked as serial fill a waste container near the hatch bottom. On the beds are two skeletons, and on the floor is a third. Lying next to which is a simple six-shooter revolver containing no ammunition. Three spent casings are across the floor near the gun. On the other side of this skeleton is a bound book in good condition. This is retrieved and placed into a field kit container upon request. The gun is left alone per request from control. Subject examines more of the bunker, focusing on a desk where a newspaper has been cut and is in good condition. The clipped articles are recovered using a field kit container. Little else of interest to be brought back is in the bunker, as the camera is panned around. Trash bags containing clothing, a few children's toys resembling popular 1950s era products are lined against the wall. Subject is requested to leave the bunker, and then sharply asked to wait by a control technician who directs the camera view to an area near the exiting doorway to the hatch. Closer inspection as subject moves in finds that a small area has been fitted with what appears to be an ethernet jack, the cover of which has been forced slightly away from the wall by a strange amber-like substance. Subject refuses to touch or collect a sample, commenting that it stinks so bad that if they want it they can come get it themselves. Control declines and subject leaves bunker. As subject grips ladder to leave, the camera pans up for a moment and at the top of the tunnel a humanoid figure is seen peering down. Control asks subject to confirm figure, subject states nothing is up there and begins to climb. Figure draws out of camera view after first rung is touched by subject who ascends without incident. At the top of the tunnel no other life is seen, nothing has been disturbed. Subject insists nothing was there and closes the hatch then immediately vomits. Subject coughs and uses a supplied water bottle to gargle then freezes and asks if control is hearing that. Control reports no audio. Subject approaches cellar hatch cautiously with firearm drawn and lifts her head just enough so camera can view outside area. In the distance approximately 700 meters from the farm two massive humanoid beings are crawling across the landscape. The entities do not notice the subject who remains quiet but whose drawn sidearm is visibly trembling. Subject requested to remain still and silent as beings move. They are featureless, facing at an angle moving across the field of vision so the faces are only visible for a few moments. During this time it is clear they have no facial features. The arms they use to drag themselves are short at times and long at others, stretching out the varying lengths each time they move. There is no rear area to the beings, all bodily design appears to end at the torso. The two creatures take approximately 10 minutes to disappear into the distance before the subject begins to panic and begs to return. Request declined. Subject instructed to enter the home from the cellar and not to leave the home under any circumstances. The first floor is entered through a hatch in the ceiling or floor that opens with rusty creaks that cause subject to pause for 37 seconds before continuing upward and entering a kitchen. A heavy layer of dust coats all items in the kitchen. The refrigerator is left open, all food is spoiled. A adjacent the kitchen is a living area that subject enters slowly. There is a recliner, a couch and a television, all of 1950s style design. In the recliner is a laptop whose case also resembles 1950s decor and is coated in heavy dust. Opening the laptop reveals the last moments of its operating system, faithful OS, leaving a standby mode and immediately shutting off. Laptop has no external power source and will not power back on. When asked to recover laptop, it brings the cushion of the recliner with it, the two stuck together. Subject advised to leave laptop where it is.  Camera view pans to a staircase leading up stairs. Subject ascends the stairs without being asked and the stairs remain silent to control surprise. When subject reaches top of stairs, a hallway with two doors is viewed, one on each side and at the end of the hall, a dumb waiter is unlaid into the wall. Subject opens door on left on her own, which opens to a master bedroom. The bed is neatly made but the wardrobe next to it is thrown open and clothes are everywhere on the floor. Subject finds laid out on the bed several pieces of jewelry and is informed to leave them. Subject begins to protest, then comments they stink and leaves them alone, promptly leaving the room. Subject asked to open second door. The second door opens and gives a view of a shared children's bedroom, obviously boy and girl given the types of toys and clothes scattered on the floor. There is also a window, which subject approaches and wipes with a curtain to clear dust. Subject requested to move camera to window and does so. The farmland is visible and approximately 40 kilometers from it, at best guess, a city. As the camera starts to draw back, it pans down and films the area around the house. Approximately 300 figures, similar to those from the footage captured during blue test, are visible around the home, all staring up. Subject asked to confirm figures, but states nothing is there. Subject requested to return and quickly agrees. Egress from the house is uneventful, pulley system shows no erratic behavior. As subject returns to point of pulley wires origin, a loud groaning noise causes the picture to reverberate. Technicians at control report they were also able to hear the noise and experienced the vibration. Subject returns through point of origin without investigation and mirror returns to reflective surface. SCP-093 relinquished. Video ends. Return to newspaper fragments filed as well. The next test is classified as the violet test. Item Number SCP-120 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures Due to its importance to the foundation, SCP-120 is to be kept under video surveillance and armed guard at all times. Any personnel attempting to utilize the item without authorization are to be terminated immediately. All personnel wishing to use the item are required to submit a filled copy of the application form to facility operators. Due to the precise timing and coordination required for efficient use of this object in an emergency, all personnel entering SCP-120's building are placed under temporary command of the facility heads, Captain Security Detachment L4 and Dr. Research Team L4. All destination locations are to be kept under surveillance and armed guard. They are valuable to the foundation, but are non-critical. But any compromised destination must be immediately reported to SCP-120 personnel. Distributed Task Force Sigma-6, Puddle Jumpers, was created with the objective of protecting and maintaining SCP-120's facility and location outposts. It consists of one command unit and one defense and maintenance unit based at the SCP-120 facility at command five units based at the destination locations, plus five reserve units for these, and five units assigned to other SCP-120 related projects. Description SCP-120 appears to be a small child's paddling pool, pastel pink in coloration, with an inner diameter of approximately 2.5 meters, an inner height of 0.3 meters. The pool appears to have been fabricated from common earth plastics, but has shown itself to be indestructible by any attempted means. The pool's structure in response to pressure are typical for such a pool. It will flex when pressure is applied and is soft to the touch, but has amazing tensile strength and cannot be permanently stretched or ripped. What is constrained within the pool seems to be a brightly glowing colored liquid-like substance, which seems to exist only partially in our dimension. It is unresponsive to manipulation by organic or inorganic means, but the substance ripples and shimmers systematically and regularly, suggesting it exists physically on another dimension. SCP-120's most interesting and useful property is used regularly by foundation personnel. Human beings, when alive and carrying loads, including clothing under 37.8 kilograms, are observed to fall through the pool and are deposited at one of 11 destinations. The item will only function in this way if certain conditions are met. The subject must be genetically human, the subject must be conscious, the subject must be carrying weights of under the specified amount, and only one subject must be present on the surface. Test subjects attempting to use SCP-120 while these conditions were not met reported their feet making contact with a smooth surface underneath the liquid, but no significant effects were observed. SCP-120's main use is as a potential means of evacuation for Command during a major emergency. It is currently stored and maintained in a fortified outbuilding of this facility. SCP-120 was first brought to the attention of Foundation authorities on 3108-1992. Local police authorities in California were investigating reports of missing children in their jurisdiction and discovered and reported the item on 3108. Overwatch Command was automatically informed through the usual channels and a small team of Foundation agents was dispatched to claim and transport the item to Site-19, where it remained for testing over the next two years. It was transferred to its present location at Command Road in 1994. Addendum Document 127 Destructive test results for SCP-120, 2412-1993, a bridged version. Handsaw, 30 centimeters, no result. Industrial drill, steel bit, no result. Industrial drill, diamond bit, no result. Munition, 9x19mm Parabellum, no result. Munition, 5.56x45mm NATO, no result. Munition, 7.62x39mm, no result. Munition, 120mm MA-30 heat, no result. Cutting torch, acetylene, no result. Cutting torch, hydrogen, no result. Cutting torch, propane, no result. CO2 laser, peak power, 100 kilowatts, no result. CO2 laser, peak power, 500 kilowatts, no result. Document 120-10 Detailed explanation of SCP-120's capabilities and destinations, 1202-1994, a bridged version. SCP-120 possesses the capability of instant translocation of human beings, possibly through one or more alternate dimensions. Subjects using the item are invariably deposited at one of 11 locations. These locations cycle in a specific and unchanging pattern. The 11 destinations and their locations were determined through testing with class D personnel carrying radio beacons. Location 1 Pacific Ocean SCP-120's liquid displays a blue glow while connected to this destination. Subjects attempting travel to this destination are deposited an average of two meters above the surface of the Pacific, latitude and longitude undisclosed. A foundation ship, SCP-S-D-Meter, publicly the USS Nassau, a meteorological ship, is currently stationed at this location and personnel arriving through use of SCP-120 materialize inside the ship's cargo hold. Sensitive foundation material or personnel can be sent here in an emergency and the ship has provisions for storage of low-threat SCP objects should the need arise. Class D personnel used to dial SCP-120 can be confined and extracted by a helicopter or reused or simply terminated and their bodies retained in storage. The original class D and radio transmitter used to determine this location were lost at C and might have to be recovered in the interest of secrecy if they were to wash up on populated shores. This configuration of SCP-120 was arbitrarily designated as number one and has no observable significance above other configurations. Destinations 2 through 11 follow in sequential order after this configuration and return to it after a full cycle. Travel by SCP-120 to this location is not advisable during storms due to risk of injury. Location 2 Greenland SCP-120 displays a bright white glow while dialed to this destination. Subjects traveling to this destination materialize 1.5 meters above the surface of Greenland latitude and longitude undisclosed. A small facility was established here under the public pretense of oil industry expansion. This facility has similar capabilities and use to the demeanor and is additionally equipped with an airstrip and refueling facilities. Location 3 L3 Located at the Earth Moon Lagrange Point 3, the SCP displays a deep black color. Objects and personnel sent through the SCP to any Lagrange Point, locations 3, 5, 8, 10, and 11 are effectively lost as retrieval is impossible at a current level of technology. They may prove a possible way to remove small but threatening SCP objects, but for now are merely an inconvenience as sacrifice of deep personnel is required to move the SCP to its next configuration. Location 4 Himalayas SCP-120 displays a white glow similar to when it is dialed to location 2. Materialization occurs on a mountain in the Himalayan mountain range, latitude and longitude undisclosed. Only minor changes have been made to the destination, the digging of an 8 meter hole for disposal of D-class bodies, an overhead canopy for concealment, and supplies and testing for evacuation to this location which should only take place in extreme circumstances. D-class personnel used for dialing are to be injected with a mixture of sedatives and neurotoxin before sending to ensure humane death and decrease risk of damage to the structures at location 4. Location 5 L5 Identical to location 3 Location 6 Sahara SCP-120 will glow yellow. Personnel materialize at a small outpost, latitude and longitude undisclosed. The need for secrecy renders this facility unable to house any significant SCP object, but is ideal for evacuation of personnel and documents from command. Location 7 Gobi SCP-120 displays a brown glow. This destination is located at a small outpost in the Gobi Desert, latitude and longitude undisclosed, but is otherwise identical to the location 6 outpost. Location 8 L2 Identical to location 3, although shows more potential for SCP disposal being situated beyond the moon. Location 9 Merimbrium The SCP displays a subdued gray glow when dialed into this destination. This destination is on a relatively flat section of the Sea of Reigns on the lunar surface. Through vast expenditure of money and D-Class personnel, a small outpost has been established there and is considered one of the Foundation's safest locations. Location 10 L4 Identical to location 3 Location 11 L1 Identical to location 3 Item number SCP-135 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-135 is to be contained in a partitioned plexiglass chamber, at least 7 meters to a side. All sections are to be completely sealed off from one another to avoid cross-contamination. SCP-135 itself is to be in a central section, with 1.0 to 1.5 square meters of floor space, with a 5 centimeter wide runoff trench around the perimeter that drains into a tank, the contents of which are to be piped into an incinerator at the end of every week. The remaining space in the containment chamber is to be used to house five chemical harvesting vats, one vat per partitioned section. A single access corridor is to lead from SCP-135's section to outside the chamber. No personnel are permitted within SCP-135's effect radius. All maintenance, taking of samples, etc. are to be carried out by remote control robots. Disciplinary measures need not be taken against personnel that violate this rule, because the direct consequences of SCP-135's effects have been deemed consequence enough. Robots are to be maintained and cleaned by level 1 personnel. Once a week, SCP-135's section is to be hosed down, with solution U-82B, until only its outer coating is visible. In emergencies, flamethrowers may be employed to reduce mass quickly. Due to the potential catastrophic effects in the event of cross-contamination, at no point are SCP-329 or SCP-427 to be contained within the same facility as SCP-135. Description SCP-135 is a human female, age undisclosed, that promotes rapid uncontrolled cell growth within a radius of 2.25 meters from itself. It remains rigidly in the fetal position and has never been observed to move. SCP-135's effect is carcinogenic to animal tissue, and induces malignant neoplasia and plant and fungal tissues in 100% of recorded exposure cases, with severity and disorganization increasing exponentially with closer proximity to SCP-135. Within 0.1 meters, cells will not die, even under conditions where they would normally, causing SCP-135 to be steadily buried under a continually growing mass of plant matter, fungal matter, and microorganisms. This undying state extends to SCP-135's cells as well. SCP-135 has been shown to lack an epidermis, instead having a crust of mixed plant and fungal matter that has incorporated itself onto SCP-135's skin, interspersed with tumors and patches of raw dermis. SCP-135's lungs, diaphragm, and intestines are ruptured, and growth extends into the chest and abdominal cavities. It has been fitted with wide-diameter plastic tubes for use in draining excess biomatter. The foundation came into possession of SCP-135 after it and a surrounding ball of growth rolled off a cliff in the mountains, crushing a hiker on the trail below. Class-B amnestics were administered to the civilians and law enforcement personnel involved, and the incident was covered up as having been caused by a pair of male goats that slipped and fell off the cliff edge during a dominance battle. Later examination of the growth revealed the partial skeleton of an adult human female, with osteosarcomata covering around 20% of it. SCP-135 was found in the space between the skeleton's ribcage and pelvis. A viable DNA sample was recovered from the bone marrow of the pelvis, and testing confirmed that the skeleton belonged to SCP-135's biological mother. All personnel involved with SCP-135's retrieval and initial testing were later diagnosed with various forms of cancer. Out of the blood affected, only blood is still alive at the time of this writing. Attempts to terminate SCP-135 with sustained gunfire, flamethrowers, caustic materials, vacuum, and extreme pressure have all failed. Further termination attempts are forbidden by order of 05 due to SCP-135's potential uses in cultivating useful bacteria. EEGs confirm full brain activity. No attempts to communicate with SCP-135 are to be made at this time. Item Number SCP-138 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-138 requires minimal containment procedures. For humanitarian purposes, subject is currently being kept in a chemically induced comatose state.  Subject is approximately 1.5 meters in height, emaciated, and wisened. SCP-138's precise origins are unknown. Subject was discovered in 2006 in an Egyptian tomb located near Tutankhamun's tomb unearthed in 1922, sealed inside a sarcophagus. When a living being was discovered in the tomb, the Foundation was alerted by one of our sleeper agents assigned to the International Archaeological Association. Subject was immediately moved to Sector 37 for investigation by the lead research science team there. Physiologically, SCP-138 should clinically be dead. Muscles and internal organs are in a severe state of atrophy, and although the subject's bioelectromagnetic field is stable, his nervous system is also severely debilitated. Subject also exhibits evidence of a large number of fatal wounds, some possibly accidental, some blatantly deliberate, whether inflicted by the subject himself or by others. There is no obvious scientific explanation for his continued living state. Although other SCPs have exhibited accelerated regenerative properties, allowing them to resist death, SCP-138 has no such abilities. His body does not regenerate damage, but simply continues to function despite lethal injuries. This stretches to wounding blows, although anything that would completely destroy the body proves ineffective. Subject speaks exclusively in a dialect of ancient Egyptian. Communication using a civilian translator has revealed very little about the subject's past, though it would appear that he was buried in the tomb for an unknown religious purpose. Due to his severely injured state, SCP-138 is in a constant state of agony, and has on numerous occasions insistently requested humanitarian euthanasia. No successful method of termination has yet been found, despite various and varied attempts, both official and unsanctioned. Attached is a comprehensive list of the subject's injuries. Document 138-27. Injuries sustained by subject SCP-138. Ancient Injuries. Slit Throat. Seventeen separate wounds to the torso, nine sword wounds, six spear wounds, and two wounds caused by unknown puncturing weapon, possibly a metal or wooden spike. Sanctioned euthanasia attempts. Severe nausea due to intravenous arsenic poison. Third-degree burns to 100% of the subject's body. Note that SCP-138 survived a full 20 minutes in an industrial incinerator. Severe internal and nervous system damage from electrocution attempt. Unofficial euthanasia attempts by non-research personnel. Tracheal trauma due to extended strangulation attempt. Two gunshot wounds to the head, causing severe cranial trauma. 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 change to 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. 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 with a 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. O5 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. 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. Dr. Janssen Item Number SCP-159 Object Class Safe Special Containment Procedures SCP-159 is currently kept in a secure storage locker at Sightman. Knowledge of SCP-159 is restricted to those of level 3 or higher, and access is restricted to level 4 or higher. SCP-159 may not be used by any personnel, except for extenuating circumstances. O5 Command may order SCP-159 to be moved at any time that it becomes necessary to use SCP-159 to prevent a destructive scenario. In the event that SCP-159 is utilized in this way, it is to be powered by a dedicated high-efficiency generator, and a spare supply of fuel is to be kept on hand. There is to be at least two personnel on standby during SCP-159's operation at all times. Description SCP-159 has the appearance of a standard neon sign reading open of the style commonly found in small businesses. When SCP-159 is displayed through a window of a building, and deactivated by removing it from a standard power outlet, as opposed to utilizing the on-off switch, the building will become impossible to enter by any means. The locking effect ceases immediately when SCP-159 is reattached to a power outlet. If SCP-159 is switched off, and then removed from its power outlet, its effect will not activate. When SCP-159's locking effect is active, the structure which it is displayed within will become effectively indestructible from the outside. Building materials will withstand forces that would normally destroy them, up to and possibly surpassing moderate artillery bombardment. The affected structure will remain completely undamaged. Testing has shown that protected structures will be unharmed by heat, hurricane speed winds, kinetic force, undermining, tunneling, explosive charges placed on the outside of the structure, electrical current, microwave, ultraviolet, x-ray, neutron and gamma radiation, and vehicular impact. Persons within a structure affected by SCP-159 may leave at any time, but may not re-enter until 159 is deactivated. The effect persists if windows, doors, and other portals are opened, with outside forces continuing to yield as if they were closed. Buildings affected by SCP-159 will continue to receive utilities, such as running water and electricity. However, supplies will be strained of foreign materials and chemicals upon entering SCP-159's boundaries. Additionally, a buffering effect appears to prevent forces such as shock waves at extremely high heat from penetrating the surface of the affected building. D-class within the structure during artillery tests reported that the concussive forces rendered by test weaponry was greatly muted to the point that an open container of water did not react. If a piece of SCP-159's tubing expires, it may be replaced by a matching part. SCP-159's effect will manifest whether or not there is neon tubing installed. Personnel are to replace SCP-159's neon parts if they fail. SCP-159 will fail to activate if it is unplugged during a power outage. Item number SCP-185 Object Class Euclid Special Containment Procedures SCP-185 is to be kept in a soundproof room with noise filtering microphones for monitoring purposes. Standard guard procedures are to be used for this object. Ear protection must be worn by all occupants in the chamber, excluding test subjects. Description SCP-185 appears to be a Russian R-105M radio used during the Cold War, except that it has a crudely added keypad, an LCD screen. The object can receive most radio transmissions, including encrypted signals. Attempts to determine how it can break even the strongest of encryptions have so far been fruitless. SCP-185 has a very long range, surpassing even modern radio equipment. It functions as a normal radio, until input is added via the keypad. It seems that if a year is entered into the keypad, the radio will receive transmissions from the specified era, depending on if messages were being broadcast on the set frequency. This function was discovered when, upon entering the random number of 1939, Neville Chamberlain was heard, declaring war on Germany. The possibility of experimenting with dates and times has been noted and is being researched. The possibility of entering future dates is being discussed. It has yet to be decided whether the benefits outweigh the risk of causing a timed paradox. On the inside, the radio appears to be unaltered, and the keypad is contained in a box affixed to the side of the radio. Researchers cannot access the keypad, due to the box being made from a metal that is yet to be identified. It cannot be cut, and there are no determinable ways to disassemble it. Addendum Document number 185-1 Incident 1 During a test, the year was set to negative 13.73 billion. During the time the universe was suspected to have been created. Sound volumes emitted by the object could not be measured with standard equipment. Survivors further from the incident reported rumbling sounds, similar to recorded radio emissions from the sun. All those within 200 meters of the epicenter died of asphyxiation. Sound waves had ruptured capillaries in the lungs. All topsy reports indicate that the victims essentially drowned in their own blood. The device failed to operate for some time after the incident, and it was found that the device's internal battery pack had failed, replacing it with restored functionality. It was noted that the LCD screen was still lit, suggesting that the device has no special power aside from the anomalous box. The sound waves have also rendered SCP-1 inoperable, leading to the reclassification of said SCP as neutralized. The radio seems to have received no damage. Structural damages have been reported on site, and a section had to be shut down for repairs. Testing has been postponed, until further notice. Dr. P... any personnel caught using the object to listen to music on duty will be disciplined. Object Request Mobile Task Force Delta V is requesting to use SCP-185 to aid their mission of tracking down objects before our rivals. Task Force believes Iranians have important information and wish to intercept to their transmissions. Request accepted.