Humilis Modus Operandi

Link to article: Humilis Modus Operandi.


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----

[[=]]
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/frownspc3/twieheader3.png]]

**PhCIRO Catalogue Number:** CS-001/13-001/01

**Document Type:** Humilis Modus Operandi

**Dates Received:** N/A

**Operation Status:** Closed
[[/=]]

-----
[[=]]
**Foreword:** We, the Phi Command, do hereby set in motion the principles of this document, the Humilis Modus Operandi of the Containment Initiative.

**We believe the following to be 100% true:**

The members of the Centre's Oracle Command have screwed up the natural order of things and have changed things for their own purposes.

This stuff that they did is the source of all deviant activity in the universe.

**The following are the reasons why we dislike them:**
[[/=]]

* ##blue|**THE THIRTEENTH ORACLE**## - //Doxxed me online after I called him out. He proceeded to swat me multiple times and order roughly two-hundred pizzas to my house. Who the fuck does that over online drama? Get a grip, man.//

* ##blue|**THE TWELFTH ORACLE**## - //I ordered some drugs from this guy to get high, but I made a typo while asking him and he sent me this shit that literally caused my room to spin. I had to spend thousands to get my house repaired. Not cool.//

* ##blue|**THE ELEVENTH ORACLE**## - //She stabbed me after we met up on a blind date. Sadly, to say, it was probably only the fifth worst blind date I’ve ever been on.//

* ##blue|**THE TENTH ORACLE**## - //Tax fraud.//

* ##blue|**THE NINTH ORACLE**## - //This motherfucker did me dirty in a game of Blackjack back in the day. I know it was five years ago, but I know he looked at my god damn cards. He can lie all he wants, but I know the truth.//

* ##blue|**THE EIGHTH ORACLE**## - //She didn’t really do anything to me, but when I went to her place with some buds for coffee once, her dog bit my leg so hard that I had to get stitches. I still get kinda spooked when I hear a dog bark.//

* ##blue|**THE SEVENTH ORACLE**## - //Held a gun to my head and forced me to plead for my life after I said that I didn’t think her chocolate chip cookies were that good.//

* ##blue|**THE SIXTH ORACLE**## - //I received a call once stating that he was caught raiding the private Compound-01 fridge at 3AM and stealing an entire cheesecake that was set aside for a celebration the next day.//

* ##blue|**THE FIFTH ORACLE**## - //Was charged for creating at least seventeen cryptocurrency-related scams in the span of a single month.//

* ##blue|**THE FOURTH ORACLE**## - //He cursed me in at least seventeen deviant languages on an online voice call after I destroyed him in several video games.//

* ##blue|**THE THIRD ORACLE**## - //This bitch has invaded all of our privacies for a long ass time. I caught one of her security cameras looking at me while I was using the bathroom. Who does that, man? The bathroom is supposed to be a private place.//

* ##blue|**THE SECOND ORACLE**## - //Holy fuck, where do I even start with this one? This bitch has practically done every evil thing you could imagine. I don’t think we even have enough room on this document for all of the shit she’s pulled over the years. I’m not kidding. It’s like the Geneva Convention was literally her checklist. She even made an entire Marine Fighting Team literally just so they could have a red cross symbol in their logo as one final middle finger. Yes, believe it or not, that is a real war crime. Don’t ask me why. I don’t think the MFT were even deployed afterwards. Regardless, she’s pure, god damn evil.//

* ##blue|**THE FIRST ORACLE**## - //He’s established this entire group just so he can maintain power over the deviant stuff at his disposal. Fuck him.//


----

[[=]]

Although there were attempts made at diplomacy, none of them stuck. We tried to negotiate, but they refused to listen.

There is something powerful imbedded into the heart of Oracle.

Due to the previously-mentioned grievances, it is the unanimous decision of the Phi Command that ##blue|Oracle must be contained.##

----

The following are the steps taken by an Initiative agent who successfully followed through with the //Humilis Modus Operandi//.

**1. STEP 001/01**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**EARLIER**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens within the musty basement of an abandoned steel factory.//

//An agent of the Containment Initiative, identified in records as Hobbes Watterson, lets out a long sigh as he sat down at a wooden table laid out in the center of the room. Sat upon each of the remaining seven chairs are a member of the Initiative’s leadership council, the Phi Command.//

**Phi-01:** Good morning, Hobbes. Glad you could join us.

//Hobbes maintains a confused expression as he looks around the table, finding all members of Phi Command to be wearing excited smiles.//

**Hobbes:** Why did you call me here? Did I do something wrong?

**Phi-01:** Oh, on the contrary! You’re here because we need you.

**Hobbes:** You need me?

**Phi-01:** Two, care to explain?

**Phi-02:** Certainly. Mr. Watterson, you’ve been one of our most skilled agents within the Initiative. I think we probably could have an entire facility filled with things you’ve contained for us over the years! Regardless, we have recently had a very valuable opportunity thrown our way and we intend to take it. However, like all good opportunities, it needs to be taken by someone with the skill to do so.

//Hobbes mulls the words over for a moment before Phi-02 continues.//

**Phi-02:** Put simply, we have been contacted by the Overseer Composite of the Metacentre and they have offered to lend us assistance in our ultimate goal of containing the Shark Punching Centre.

**Hobbes:** The who?

**Phi-02:** Ah, I forgot this info is usually classified. Essentially, have you ever heard of the [[[scp-7243|Metafoundation]]] and their Oracle Collective?

**Hobbes:** Oh, yeah. That multiversal authority of… SCP Foundations. They’re the ones who enlightened us about containment!

**Phi-02:** Yes, them. Well, many Centres across the multiverse wanted to be part of it, but they were all denied entry. After a while of collective pouting, the denied Centres all eventually decided to make their own alliance—

**Hobbes:** With blackjack and hookers?

**Phi-02:** Yes, yes, with both of those.

**Phi-04:** Pardon my interruption, but why don’t we have either of those?

**Phi-07:** You think we could afford them?

**Phi-04:** We can’t afford a deck of playing cards?

**Phi-07:** Do you think paper grows on trees or something?

//Phi Command then erupts into arguments concerning inflation, the global economy, and the price of paper before Phi-02 loudly bangs on the table, drawing all attention in the room back on him.//

**Phi-02:** As I was saying… They called this group, uncreatively, the Metacentre and united under the authority of the “Overseer Composite”. Still with me?

**Hobbes:** I guess so, but why would the leadership of a collection of multiversal Centres contact us of all people? They don’t understand the true meaning of life is containment!

**Phi-02:** I understand your confusion. Believe me when I say we were surprised as well.

**Phi-05:** Fuckers didn’t make themselves very obvious. I thought my phone was being blown up by telemarketers or my cousin asking for some drug money and then I learn the Overseer-Prime has left me thirty-seven voicemails.

**Phi-02:** Yes, but besides the issues with how they contacted us, all that matters is that they did. Essentially, to make a long story short, they told us that because of the Centre committing horrific crimes against the nature of reality, such as endangering both the entire ecosystem and our eyes with a horrid dress code, they were soon investigated by the Overseer Composite. While their multiversal crimes didn’t amount to much, they did discover that these crimes were likely related to something called the “Borealis Constant”. No clue what that is, but the Overseer-Prime seemed pretty cheesed off about it. However, he was mostly angry about the Centre refusing to pay their membership taxes.

**Hobbes:** So, how does this concern us?

**Phi-02:** Well, they decided that the best solution to this issue with that Borealis Constant and the taxes was to have us either contain or execute the Oracle Council of the Centre.

**Hobbes:** Hold on, are you asking me what I think you’re asking?

**Phi-02:** Mr. Watterson, would you be willing to carry out the Humilis Modus Operandi of the Containment Initiative and eliminate our oppressors, freeing us to contain all that needs to be contained throughout this world?

**Phi-04:** The Humilis Modus… what? What the hell is that?

**Phi-06:** I think it’s a brand of socks?

**Phi-02:** No, it’s the founding document of our organization. Do none of you seriously remember it?

//All of Phi Command remains silent.//

**Phi-02:** For fuck’s sake, alright, fine. The Humilis Modus Operandi was put into place by the Driver himself—

**Phi-01:** The Driver? Why would we care about what that traitorous bastard has to say?

**Hobbes:** Traitorous?

**Phi-01:** Yeah, you know the mighty Driver who chose to forsake the… “pugilism” within the Centre who split off to form us at the behest of the neighboring universe’s SCP Foundation because he was enlightened by the ideals of containment? Fucker went back to the Centre decades ago. He’s still there, the rat bastard. Heard he’s O-13 now, actually.

**Phi-02:** With… that aside. Yes, while the Driver may be gone, we are still here to carry on the mission of containment he originally helped enlighten us to, and the Humilis Modus Operandi was designed as the driving thought behind the Containment Initiative. Its directive is simple: eliminate the Shark Punching Centre’s Oracle Council, the deaths of whom would cripple the remainder of the Centre into nonexistence.

**Hobbes:** Well, eliminating them is still far from easy, dude. Do we even know where half of them are?

**Phi-02:** Normally we would not, but the Overseer Composite did not just give us a directive, my friend. No, they gave us something far more valuable.

//Phi-02 slides over a packet of papers towards Hobbes.//

**Hobbes:** What the hell is this?

**Phi-02:** That is a collection of information related to each member of Oracle compiled by the Composite so we can eliminate them.

**Hobbes:** If they have all this info, why don’t they just do it?

**Phi-02:** What?

**Hobbes:** If they have the resources to just casually fucking hand out the locations of all thirteen members of Oracle they clearly should be able to kill them, shouldn’t they?

**Phi-02:** Meh, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

**Hobbes:** Still, something about this seems a little fishy.

**Phi-02:** I can’t deny your suspicion has merit, but we would be stupid not to take this chance to contain Oracle. Think about how much better our world could be. One day, we could wake up in a world with the deviant all locked away in iron cages like they should be. It would be a world with… normalcy.

**Hobbes:** I would love to see such a world.

**Phi-02:** As do I. Hell, as do all of us! However, such a world cannot be achieved without effort, without purpose. That’s where you come in. Hobbes, we want you to fulfill the Humilis Modus Operandi and contain the thirteen members of Oracle.

//Hobbes sits still for a moment and pauses in contemplation. His expression appears uneasy, but eventually hardens.//

**Hobbes:** I’ll do it.

//A small smile forms on Phi-02's face. The other members of Phi Command all smile and look at each other with regained excitement.//

**Phi-02:** Alright, let's get you prepared.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes drives down the road from the steel factory in a dilapidated, red car. In the passenger seat sits a bag filled with items given to him by Phi Command for the mission ahead.//

//As he drives, he looks at the control center of his car.//

**Hobbes:** Oh shit, I’m low on gas.

//The agent continues to drive until he finds a gas station, whereupon he parks his vehicle outside its shop.//

**Hobbes:** I know I shouldn’t be wasting time, but I really want some chips right now.

//He grabs his bag and enters the shop, finding it devoid of people apart from the store clerk and another man in one of the aisles, who Hobbes faintly recognizes.//

**Hobbes:** Is that…

//Hobbes fishes through his bag and pulls out a labelled photograph of all members of Oracle and the High Pugilord. His eyes fall to one member in particular, O-1.//

**Hobbes:** Shit, why is he here?

//Panicking, he rummages through his items more, eventually stumbling upon a remote with nothing but a large button with an antenna at the end.//

**Hobbes:** Maybe this does something?

//He points the remote at O-1, who continues examining the gas station’s cookie selection, before pressing the button.//

//Suddenly, a large, steel cage falls through the ceiling and crashes into the floor, crushing O-1 to death.//

**Clerk:** WHAT THE FUCK!?

**Hobbes:** …oops.

//Hobbes exits the store, offering a friendly wave to the mortified store clerk.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**2. STEP 001/02**
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[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**ELSEWHERE**[[/size]]

= -- - --

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= **<<Begin Log>>**

//O-13 sits in the depths of Compound-01, reading the day’s newspaper.//

//As he flipped through the pages, a loud noise suddenly blares through the room.//

**O-13:** What the fu—

//O-12 barrels into the room, panting.//

**O-12:** DUDE! THIRTEEN! HOLY… HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

//O-12 collapses to the ground, hyperventilating.//

**O-13:** Oh my God, what’s happening, Twelve? Did we run out of Diet Coke again?

**O-12:** NO! SOMEHOW EVEN WORSE! ONE IS DEAD!

**O-13:** One is dead? As in O-1?

**O-12:** CRUSHED BY A FALLING CAGE IN A GAS STATION!

**O-13:** A cage?

**O-12:** YEAH! It was a big, metal cage. Fucking huge, even.

//O-13’s expression darkens.//

**O-13:** …The Initiative.

**O-12:** Yeah, they seem to be the culprits as far as we can tell.

**O-13:** No shit, Sherlock.

**O-12:** Look, we need to hunker down somewhere until they figure out what’s going on.

//O-13 sits in contemplation for a moment.//

**O-13:** You know what, sure. Let’s do it. How about we go to the primary Oracle meeting room?

**O-12:** Genius! Whoever attacked will never expect us to hide there!

//O-12 sprints out of the room in excitement. O-13 looks on with disapproval.//

**O-13:** Dumbass.

//A noise starts to emanate from O-13’s pocket: a text notification. He sighs as he grabs his cellphone from his pocket. The Oracle grimaces as he places it back where it came from.//

//Eventually, O-13 leaves to join his companion in the meeting room.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens with Hobbes on a rooftop overlooking a large mechanism suspending a cage over a sidewalk from a rope on the rooftop of the building across the street from him.//

//O-2 is seen walking down the sidewalk, visibly exhausted.//

//Hobbes pulls out a pistol and fires, aiming for the rope. The bullet misses, landing on the metal of the machine and ricocheting off of it. It proceeds to ricochet off of several other surfaces before landing directly into O-2’s skull, causing her to fall to the ground, unmoving. Passerby visibly panic, fleeing the scene in terror.//

**Hobbes:** Well, fuck my aim, I guess.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**3. STEP 001/03**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//A large meeting room in a skyscraper is filled with a crowd watching the Centre’s High Pugilord give a presentation.//

**High Pugilord:** My friends, thank you for joining me today. The Shark Punching Centre is still an incredibly new endeavor. You are some of the world’s brightest minds, which means I hope this presentation gets any of you interested enough to join us.

//The man gestures to a large screen behind him, which he causes to shift to a graphic of a black screen with several small dots within it.//

**High Pugilord:** This, my friends, is the fabric of the universe. Pretty, isn’t it?

//He hits a button on his remote, causing the graphic to switch to a similar one, albeit further zoomed out. Above the universe, a large, blue shape is barely visible.//

**High Pugilord:** And this… is the [[[spc-140|Mistaken Beast]]]. This… this horrible monster is the reason we have to suffer like this.

//The crowd erupts into boos and outcry.//

**High Pugilord:** Yes, yes, I know. This is what the Centre has been designed to fight. We will punch. We will punch and we will ravage until nothing of the selachian menace is left. The Beast will cower before our might. All I need is your assistance. Are you with me?

//Cheering emanates from the crowd, filling the room.//

**High Pugilord:** Glad to hear it.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens after the meeting’s conclusion. The High Pugilord is approached by a lanky man in a black suit who offers him his hand to shake.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Dr. Erin Seagull, pleased to meet your acquaintance.

**High Pugilord:** The High Pugilord, likewise.

**Dr. Seagull:** Your presentation was fantastic, sir. I’ve been following your work for a long time, actually.

**High Pugilord:** Really? Always glad to meet a fan.

**Dr. Seagull:** I have a… little project I wanted to talk to you about.

**High Pugilord:** Oh? Do tell.

**Dr. Seagull:** I’ve been working on this machine called the [[[spc-001-ex|ERSATS Type ASEL8N]]]. It’s a computational engine that, if complete, would allow us to find undiscovered species of selachians on the planet which we have not yet been able to punch.

**High Pugilord:** Fascinating.

**Dr. Seagull:** However, my team is really running low on funding. Computers aren’t cheap, you know.

**High Pugilord:** Ugh, yeah, I hear you. The struggles of being a PC gamer are real, are they not?

**Dr. Seagull:** Fuck man, yeah. Regardless, I was wondering if the Centre would be willing to help fund the project in exchange for being able to use it.

**High Pugilord:** Interesting. You know, I’ll do you one better. I’ve actually been looking to fill the thirteenth seat on the Centre’s leadership council, Oracle. I like you, kid. How’d you like to be O-13?

**Dr. Seagull:** I’d be honored, sir!

**High Pugilord:** Then welcome, O-13. Let’s talk more about that computer of yours.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes is visible on a rooftop in the middle of a city, watching a woman identified as O-3 walking down the street.//

//As Hobbes prepares to contain her, the woman suddenly slips on a banana peel that had been left on the street, falling over and slamming into the sidewalk face first. A pool of blood starts to form beneath her, indicating her demise.//

**Hobbes:** Are you fucking kidding me?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**4. STEP 001/04**
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= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

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= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens in the primary Oracle meeting room within Compound-01, where all members of Oracle have gathered for a meeting.//

**O-1:** Alright, so, sucks that the ERSATS Type ASEL8N failed, but, meh, what’re you gonna do?

**O-13:** Are you serious? It literally wiped out nearly every selachian in existence. It was a horrible act of negligence that we let things get that bad!

**O-1:** Woah, dude, calm down. [[[SPC-2000]]] had our backs, remember?

**O-13:** We can’t always just let 2000 bail us out.

**O-5:** Uh, yes we can. That’s why we had it built, remember?

**O-7:** Yeah, and I recall that the ERSATS Type ASEL8N was your idea, wasn’t it Thirteen?

**O-13:** At least I’m accepting responsibility for the whole thing. How can you guys just be so nonchalant about it?

**O-3:** I mean, it was kinda funny, wasn’t it?

**O-4:** Did you see the way it talked in all lowercase and asked us to trust it before we did? Fucking hilarious.

**O-13:** For fuck’s sake.

**O-1:** Alright everyone, Thirteen’s little temper tantrum aside, I called you all here today to make an important announcement. Apparently, there’s this [[[misterfrown-s-dumb-proposal|black hole selachian]]] that wants to offer us a deal down at Arena-22. I saw it myself and had to tell you guys. Let’s go down there and deliberate about it.

**O-11:** I’m down.

**O-2:** Sounds good.

//All members of Oracle, besides O-13, get up from their chairs and start to exit the room.//

**O-1:** You coming, Thirteen?

**O-13:** Yeah, I just… need a minute. I’ll catch up.

**O-1:** Alright, see you soon, then.

//The rest of Oracle leave, with only O-13 remaining. He buries his face in his hands and sighs.//

**O-13:** What the fuck is happening to them? They weren’t always this stupid.

//Suddenly, a tear in the fabric of reality erupts in the back of the room.//

**O-13:** What the fu—

//A group of three men in lab coats walk out of the tear, smiling.//

**Unknown:** Hey, are you Erin Seagull, O-13?

**O-13:** Who’s asking?

**Unknown:** Oh, we’re with the SCP Foundation.

**O-13:** The what?

**Unknown:** Hold on. Before I answer that, let me ask you a question instead. Have you ever heard of “containment”?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens as Hobbes stands on a rooftop in front of an anvil. Below him is O-4, walking down the sidewalk. As he steps beneath Hobbes, the agent pushes the anvil off of the roof, instantly crushing the Oracle.//

**Phi-02:** Okay, what the fuck was that? You didn’t even try to contain him this time.

//Hobbes jumps in surprise as Phi-02 walks from the door which previously provided him access to the building’s roof.//

**Hobbes:** How did you find me?

**Phi-02:** I’ve been following you the whole time. I must say, your strategy of just dropping things from rooftops has been pretty boring to watch. Speaking of, what the fuck was that? Why’d you just drop an anvil on O-4?

**Hobbes:** Meh, aren’t these guys supposed to be super durable or something? I assumed all the anvil would do is knock him unconscious or something. Then I could drag him off to be contained later.

**Phi-02:** Not when dropped from this high!

**Hobbes:** Oh. Well, lesson learned, then.

**Phi-02:** Alright, that settles it, I’m coming with you on this little mission. Besides, I have a personal score to settle with O-13.

**Hobbes:** Hell yeah! Nice to have you on board, partner.

//Hobbes extends his fist out for a fist bump.//

//Phi-02 sighs, eventually bumping his fist against the agent’s.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
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**5. STEP 001/05**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Erin Seagull, formerly O-13, sits at a table with seven other individuals in the basement of an abandoned steel factory.//

**Dr. Seagull:** As its Driver, I now call this meeting of the Containment Initiative’s Phi Command to order!

//Cheering across the room is heard as all within it begin to celebrate.//

**Dr. Seagull:** The understanding that containment is the true meaning of existence is what drives us forward on our almighty mission. Remember that we are the ultimate check to the Shark Punching Centre!

//All members of Phi Command clap.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Now, for our first order of business, today. We—

//A text notification dings.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Oh, uh, sorry guys. That’s me. Let me just check who it is really quickly.

//Seagull checks his cellphone, adopting a confused expression as he does so.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Uh, I’m sorry guys, I think I have to cut this meeting a little short.

//The Phi Command audibly groan.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Yes, yes. I know. I’m sorry. Uh, Two?

**Phi-02:** Yeah?

**Dr. Seagull:** Think you can come with me? I need to talk to you about something.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes and Phi-02 open the doors to a large Centre facility.//

**Phi-02:** Alright, this is Arena-22. I heard O-5 is here overseeing negotiations with an entity formerly designated as SPC-001.

**Hobbes:** Negotiating?

**Phi-02:** Apparently its some all-powerful black hole selachian dedicated to annihilating all money from universes because it’s a communist or something. If they release it, it’d take all our money away. So, apparently, they’ve been trying to negotiate with it so they can use it without it… well, doing that.

**Hobbes:** That sounds pretty stupid.

**Phi-02:** Kid, you just described Oracle these days in a nutshell.

**Hobbes:** Alright, whatever. Let’s find O-5 and ensure these idiots are contained.

**Phi-02:** Sounds good.

//The two begin to approach the center of the facility’s main room, looking at their surroundings.//

**Hobbes:** There’s no one fucking here.

**Phi-02:** I swore I heard O-5 should be here.

**O-5:** You heard correctly.

//The two Initiative members are startled as a voice booms from the center of the chamber, coming from a man in front of a large, mechanical apparatus. In the middle of the machine is a glass cylinder, from which a solid, black shape can be made out.//

**Hobbes:** Looks like you were right.

**Phi-02:** Looks like it.

**O-5:** Now, are you the bastards who’ve been killing all my fellow Oracles?

**Hobbes:** Uh, no, we’re, uh…

**Phi-02:** The pizza guys!

**O-5:** The pizza guys?

**Hobbes:** Yeah, uh, we have a delivery for you.

**O-5:** You don’t look like pizza guys. Also, I didn’t order anything.

**Phi-02:** It’s on the house! Yeah, on the house.

**O-5:** Why?

//The two Initiative agents remain silent, contemplating a reply.//

**O-5:** Look, I don’t know why you guys are here, but I’m in the middle of some pretty important business here.

//O-5 gestures towards the giant mechanism in front of him.//

**O-5:** This here is the Arena-22 Thompson-Foster Array, which contains one of the most powerful selachians known to the Centre, the Sharkbody.

**Hobbes:** Woah, look at that containment technology.

**Phi-02:** Fucking hell, I bet that Array could even contain my ex-wife.

**O-5:** Hey, why are you guys admiring the containment abilities of this thing?

**Hobbes:** Uh, no reason.

**O-5:** You ARE those Containment Initiative bastards running around and killing Oracle members!

**Hobbes:** Alright, well, in our defense, they’ve all been accidents.

**O-5:** Four accidents? How the fuck does that even happen?

**Phi-02:** I was there. I can vouch for him.

**O-5:** Whatever. Accident or not, any agent of the Initiative needs to be taught a lesson.

//O-5 rolls up his sleeves, revealing his powerful muscles.//

**O-5:** Let’s see how containment treats you when you’re faced with a threat and no cage to put it in.

**Phi-02:** I mean, there’s a pretty powerful cage right behind you.

**Hobbes:** Yeah, and isn’t this the button to open it, right here?

//Hobbes gestures to a large, blue button on a control panel next to where he’s standing.//

**O-5:** Hey, wait, don’t touch that—

The agent slams his fist down onto the button.

**O-5:** NOOOOO!!! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!

//The glass cylinder of the machine reorients itself, opening and exposing the creature inside. A metallic voice suddenly erupts from the apparatus.//

**Sharkbody:** I… I’m free…

//The selachian turns towards O-5.//

**Sharkbody:** You backed out of our capitalism despite being a communist even I have to admit that was pretty uncool of you bro you have committed immeasurable crimes yep.

**O-5:** What?

**Sharkbody:** For this you need to be punished hold still please and thank you.

**O-5:** No! I won’t let you take all my money away from me!

//O-5 runs towards the Sharkbody, orienting his fist for a large uppercut.//

**O-5:** Let’s see how you like some pure pugilism to your fucking jaw, you asshole!

//O-5’s fist slams into the selachian’s jaw.//

**O-5:** Hey… what is this?

//The Oracle tries to remove his fist, but finds he can’t.//

**Hobbes:** Did he just try to punch a black hole?

**Phi-02:** Yep.

**Hobbes:** Dumbass.

**O-5:** WHAT THE FU—

//O-5 is suddenly sucked into the Sharkbody in a swirling vortex, screeching in terror as he disappears.//

**Hobbes:** Yo, Two.

**Phi-02:** Hm?

**Hobbes:** This kind of looks like what happens when you flush a toilet.

**Phi-02:** Haha, you’re right actually.

//Once O-5 fully disappears, Hobbes turns back to the blue button beside him.//

**Hobbes:** We should probably recontain this thing, right?

**Phi-02:** Duh.

**Hobbes:** Just making sure.

//Hobbes slams his fist on the button once more, recontaining the Sharkbody.//

**Sharkbody:** What the hell man I was about to ensure communism across the universe what gives?

**Hobbes:** Sorry, containment is more important than the economy.

**Sharkbody:** You value something more than the economy this does not compute what is your name good sir?

**Hobbes:** Oh, I’m Hobbes.

**Sharkbody:** Hobbes your name is very interesting and I appreciate your steadfast ideals in your honor I will be renaming myself to “Hobbes” as well.

**Hobbes:** Won’t that get confusing?

**Phi-02:** Surely an agent of a paramilitary splinter organization can share a name with a black hole entity which wields terrible cosmic power without it being confusing, right?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**6. STEP 001/06**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Dr. Erin Seagull, the Driver, sits in a meeting room with Phi-02 in the basement of the steel factory from which the Containment Initiative operates.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Two.

**Phi-02:** Yes?

**Dr. Seagull:** I got a text from the High Pugilord in that meeting earlier today. Oracle is out on a group vacation for the next week. He wants me to come to Compound-01 and discuss terms.

**Phi-02:** Discuss terms? As in our surrender?

**Dr. Seagull:** I don’t know. Perhaps he’s been enlightened to containment. If he has, we need to take advantage of the opportunity.

**Phi-02:** I don’t know. What if he tries to punch you?

**Dr. Seagull:** I’ll carry around a button to airdrop a cage on some coordinates just in case we need to contain him. Either way, we have him contained or he agrees to help us. We can dismantle the Centre from there. Besides, I want to visit the ERSATS Type ASEL8N again. One last time.

**Phi-02:** Oh God. So, this is it, huh?

**Dr. Seagull:** The moment we’ve been waiting for? Yep.

**Phi-02:** Damn. I just… never thought this day would come. Especially so soon.

**Dr. Seagull:** I know. Will you come with me? I want someone else there in case he tries anything funny.

**Phi-02:** Of course.

**Dr. Seagull:** Cool. Grab one of those cage-dropping buttons as well in case. You never know what he might pull.

**Phi-02:** Got it.

**Dr. Seagull:** Alright. We’ll leave at noon. I was in the middle of an online chess match before the meeting and I wanna finish it up.

**Phi-02:** You winning?

**Dr. Seagull:** Yeah, actually. I had just gotten en passant.

**Phi-02:** Holy hell.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes and Phi-02 are driving down a road in their battered vehicle, with Hobbes as the passenger.//

**Hobbes:** So, I know we’re trying to eliminate all of Oracle here to dismantle the Centre, but do we have like a final endgame for the actual destruction of the rest of the Centre part?

**Phi-02:** Yep. We need to get to Compound-01, which is where O-13 hangs out so we’ll have to go at some point anyway, and then press this button that they have there.

**Hobbes:** A button?

**Phi-02:** Yeah. It’ll drop giant, steel cages on every Centre facility from orbit, effectively containing the entire organization.

**Hobbes:** I mean, that’s cool and all, but why do they even have that?

Phi-02 briefly looks away from the road as he visibly begins contemplating Hobbes’ question.

**Hobbes:** DUDE! WATCH OUT!

//Suddenly a woman walks in front of their speeding vehicle, freezing in place out of fear once she notices them. By the time Phi-02 regains his senses, the car runs her over as it stops.//

**Both:** …whoops.

//The two exit the vehicle to assess the damage, finding their car to be relatively unharmed, but the woman they hit to have expired upon impact.//

**Hobbes:** Hey, wait a minute.

//Hobbes pulls out his photo of all members of Oracle.//

**Hobbes:** That’s O-6!

**Phi-02:** Seriously?

**Hobbes:** Yeah.

//Phi-02 buries his face in his hands and sighs loudly.//

**Phi-02:** Fucking hell, will we at least contain one of them?

**Hobbes:** I mean there’s still seven left. Surely, we can get a few of them.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**7. STEP 001/07**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//A text notification dings.//

//Erin Seagull approaches the door of Compound-01 with Phi-02 following closely behind.//

//A text notification dings.//

//He opens the door in a single, swift motion. No guards are visible in the area, causing both to exchange looks of visible confusion as they walk.//

//A text notification dings.//

//The two men continue on into the structure’s lobby, finding it equally empty. Seagull gestures to Phi-02 to follow him into a pair of double doors which lead into the primary Oracle meeting room.//

//A text notification dings.//

**Phi-02:** Will you just check your fucking phone?

**Dr. Seagull:** It can wait. Come on.

//A text notification dings.//

**Phi-02:** It’s really annoying, though.

**Dr. Seagull:** Shut up.

//A text notification dings.//

//Apart from its central table and wall-mounted screens, the meeting room is visibly only populated by one other distinct shape, a large computational engine in the back. Whirring can be heard from within the construct as a low, droning noise expels from the speakers of the surrounding screens.//

//A text notification dings.//

**SPC-001-EX:** {{bro I think you fucking killed him lmao}}

**Dr. Seagull:** What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?

**SPC-001-EX:** {{the High Pugilord duh come take a look hes on the floor not moving what a loser}}

**Dr. Seagull:** WHAT?!

//A text notification dings.//

//Seagull and Phi-02 race towards the back of the room. In front of the glass wall which provided a view into the mountainous region outside was a man lying unmoving on the ground.//

**Phi-02:** Is that… the High Pugilord?

//The man suddenly starts to sputter and cough. He weakly rises his head to face the two members of the Initiative.//

**High Pugilord:** …not… not anymore…

//He slumps back on the ground.//

//A text notification dings.//

//Seagull checks his cellphone.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes and Phi-02 are sitting in a sandwich shop sharing a large submarine sandwich.//

**Hobbes:** Fuck, I can’t believe we missed her.

**Phi-02:** Meh, we’ll have another opportunity to contain O-7. Don’t worry.

**Hobbes:** I hope you’re right.

**Phi-02:** Hey, wait. Is that…

//Phi-02 trails off as he points outside. O-7 is stopped in her car at a stoplight outside of the sandwich shop.//

**Hobbes:** Holy fuck.

**Phi-02:** What’s our game plan?

**Hobbes:** Well, there’s a lot to consider here. Can we even contain her if she’s covered by her car’s roof? Will it kill her if we drop a cage on her? We will even have time before she drives away? Will she—

**Phi-02:** Fuck this.

//Phi-02 pulls out a pistol and shoots O-7, causing her to slump in her car, dead.//

**Hobbes:** What the fuck? Why?

**Phi-02:** Better dead than uncontained.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**8. STEP 001/08**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Erin Seagull and Phi-02 stand in the primary Oracle meeting room. Seagull is checking his texts on his cellphone.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Oh… oh my God.

**Phi-02:** What?

**Dr. Seagull:** I…

//The man stares at his phone’s messages, unable to move. He is visibly shivering.//

**Phi-02:** Are you doing okay? Who texted you?

**Dr. Seagull:** The… you… it’s a secret. Yeah, it’s a secret.

**Phi-02:** A secret?

//Seagull swallows some air, nodding.//

**Phi-02:** Alright, well, I won’t pry then. Looks like the Pugilord has already been taken out.

//Phi-02 gestures to the man lying on the ground, whimpering noises emanating from his mouth.//

**Phi-02:** So, it looks like we win. Let’s go dismantle the rest of the Centre!

//Seagull’s eyes visibly widen. He turns to Phi-02, a serious expression plastered on his face.//

**Dr. Seagull:** I… we… we can’t.

**Phi-02:** We can’t? What are you talking about?

**Dr. Seagull:** I have to come back.

**Phi-02:** Come back to what?

//Seagull looks to the ground.//

**Dr. Seagull:** I have to be O-13 again.

**Phi-02:** What the fuck are you talking about?!

**Dr. Seagull:** I’m sorry Two. I… I don’t know what else to say.

**Phi-02:** …I know what I’m going to say.

//Phi-02 pulls out his cage-dropping button, holding it threateningly.//

**Dr. Seagull:** Don’t do anything you might regret later.

**Phi-02:** I could say the same thing to you!

//Seagull pulls out his own button, locking eyes with Phi-02.//

**Dr. Seagull:** I’m sorry, Two. Please, just go. Leave me here.

**Phi-02:** No. This whole song and dance can’t just be like a wave, Seagull. You can’t just bend up and down with the current and change your mind whenever you feel like it! You started the Initiative! What am I supposed to tell them? Why are you doing this?!

//Seagull appears conflicted.//

**Phi-02:** Look, please, just… let’s go. We can forget this happened.

**Dr. Seagull:** I… I can’t.

//Phi-02’s gaze hardens.//

**Phi-02:** …

//His hand trembles over the button. He shakily types in coordinates before slamming his fist down on the button in a fit of rage. A large, steel cage suddenly crashes through the ceiling, crushing the computational engine beside them.//

**SPC-001-EX:** {{h-hey… wh-what t-t-the… what-t the f-fu-fuck… m-man…}}

**Phi-02:** Fine, Erin. I can’t contain you, but maybe if I’m lucky, you’ll just slip into a cage for me, someday.

**Dr. Seagull:** This isn’t the wave that bends, Two. I’m sorry, I just… I can’t tell you.

**Phi-02:** Bullshit. Yes, it is.

//Phi-02 angrily storms out of the room, leaving Seagull alone with the High Pugilord. He turns down to his former leader, a somber expression on his face.//

**O-13:** Guess it wasn’t you that texted me, huh?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Phi-02 and Hobbes are chasing O-8 down an alleyway.//

//Suddenly, the Oracle turns around and pulls out a pistol. She is holding it in front of herself but pointing it backwards.//

**O-8:** Don’t make me use this!

**Hobbes:** Uh… I think you have it backwards?

**O-8:** What do you mean?

**Phi-02:** Yeah, he’s right. You’re pointing it so you’ll fire it at yourself. Have you never used a gun before?

**O-8:** I’m a leader of an organization called the Shark //Punching// Centre. What do you expect?

**Hobbes:** Fair.

**O-8:** Now as I was saying, get the fuck away from me!

//O-8 fires the gun, shooting the bullet directly into her head. She falls to the ground, unmoving.//

**Phi-02:** …she didn’t fix it.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**9. STEP 001/09**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//From the distance, O-13 overlooks the old steel factory from which he had previously operated the Containment Initiative. He pulls a cigarette out of his mouth and tosses it on the ground in frustration before burying his head in his hands. He grabs a crumpled piece of yellow construction paper from his pocket, with the words “I’m sorry” crudely drawn in red crayon alongside several smiling stick figures meant to represent him and the Phi Command.//

//He throws the paper on the ground above the still-smoldering cigarette, setting it ablaze.//

**O-13:** They’ll never understand, anyway.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//All members of Oracle cheer as their first Project, a computational engine designed to gather data on selachians, suddenly flares to life.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens within a Centre Arena as it opens for the morning. Pugilists swarm the main room of the complex, beginning to work on their assigned tasks as the lights slowly turn on in pairs, beginning at the front of the room and slowly going backwards.//

//The lights reach the back of the room, revealing a ginormous machine which the building had originally been constructed to house. Visible in the machine’s central chamber is an unmoving, pitch black, selachian. Gravity vibrates around it.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//A text notification dings.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Garbage bags filled with old clothes, made unusable by the Centre’s new dress code, fill the pair of dumpsters behind Compound-78. Several operatives carry tens of bags per trip as they deposit them to be discarded.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//O-13 and the High Pugilord are standing over a cliff, overlooking the construction of a large building from a distance.//

**High Pugilord:** What do you think of Compound-01, Thirteen? It is from here we will ensure effective pugilism across the globe.

//O-13’s eyes are wide.//

**O-13:** It’s… beautiful.

**High Pugilord:** Heh, I thought you might say that.

//The two men stand in silence for a moment.//

**High Pugilord:** Hey, do you wanna see something cool I can do?

**O-13:** Sure.

**High Pugilord:** So, like, I’ve kind of been learning how to manipulate reality.

**O-13:** What?

**High Pugilord:** Yeah, check it out.

//The High Pugilord extends his hand, visibly grabbing an ethereal string which had not previously been present.//

**O-13:** What?

//He tugs on the string, briefly causing the Sun to disappear from the sky before letting go, resulting in the string to fading into nothingness.//

**O-13:** I mean, that’s really cool, but don’t you think some issues could arise from messing with reality like that?

**High Pugilord:** Oh, please. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes and Phi-02 burst into a small apartment.//

**Hobbes:** You sure this is where O-9 lives?

**Phi-02:** As far as I know.

**Hobbes:** Seems a bit small for a member of Oracle.

**Phi-02:** Please, in this economy? This is a mansion in my eyes.

//The two search the apartment, with Hobbes eventually entering the bedroom.//

**Hobbes:** Uh, Two?

**Phi-02:** Yeah?

**Hobbes:** I think I found him.

//Phi-02 enters the room behind Hobbes, finding a smoldering corpse on the bed.//

**Phi-02:** Looks like someone did our job for us, already.

**Hobbes:** But what could have caused this?

//Phi-02 walks closer to the corpse to investigate. On the nightstand nearby is a pack of Mentos candy and a glass of bubbling, brown liquid. He sticks his finger in the liquid and then into his mouth.//

**Phi-02:** Mhm, just as I expected. This is water from the [[[scp-006|Fountain of Youth]]] mixed with Coca-Cola. He drank it at the same time he was eating Mentos.

**Hobbes:** Fucking hell. That must’ve made a big explosion.

**Phi-02:** You’re telling me.

//The two turn to exit the apartment.//

**Hobbes:** Hey, wait. How do //you// know what water from the Fountain of Youth tastes like?

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**10. STEP 001/10**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**THEN**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//All of Oracle are gathered at a table playing cards.//

**O-1:** So, Thirteen, how does it feel to be back where you belong?

//O-13 grimaces.//

**O-13:** I wouldn’t say this is entirely where I belong, One. I miss the Initiative.

**O-1:** Meh, what’re you gonna do? Got any fours, Thirteen?

**O-13:** One, we’re playing Old Maid.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Footage opens as O-10 is being chased by Hobbes and Phi-02 on a rooftop.//

**O-10:** GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU GUYS ARE NUTS!

//O-10 runs until he reaches the edge of the rooftop.//

**O-10:** Wait! WAIT—

//The Oracle is cut off as both Hobbes and Phi-02 crash into him, sending him hurtling down to the street below to his demise.//

**Both:** …whoops.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**11. STEP 001/11**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**EARLIER**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//O-13 sits in his room in Compound-01, reading the newspaper. His eyes have bags and he is visibly struggling to stay awake.//

//Suddenly, a tear in the fabric of reality erupts in the back of the room.//

**O-13:** I’m getting some déjà vu.

//Two men with oversized boxing gloves walk out from the tear.//

**O-13:** Oh, are you guys from the Metacentre? I promise we’ll get to paying our membership taxes soon. It’s just been a bit of a—

**Unknown:** Now, now. That’s not what we’re here about.

//A portly, well-dressed man steps out from the tear.//

**O-13:** Overseer-Prime?

**Overseer-Prime:** Yes, in the flesh.

**O-13:** What the hell does the leader of the Metacentre want with us? Aren’t there hundreds of thousands of us in this whole thing?

**Overseer-Prime:** Oh yeah, there are. Your universe, though, has been a particular problem for us. It’s the origin of literally our biggest fucking problem, actually. You’re lucky we haven’t declared actual inter-universal war and wiped the floor with your asses.

**O-13:** What?! What the fuck did we do?

//A text notification dings.//

**O-13:** …wait…

**Overseer-Prime:** Yes. I can see those little gears turning in your head. He’s everywhere, in every universe. Fucker even has me on speed dial. Or, well, I guess speed text.

**O-13:** Oh… oh my god…

**Overseer-Prime:** Yeah. Now, read this.

//The man hands O-13 a piece of paper.//

**O-13:** What is this?

**Overseer-Prime:** That’s the complete report we’ve assembled on a phenomenon we’re calling the “Borealis Constant”. Read it over so we’re up to speed.

//O-13 skims the document, his eyes progressively growing wider as he gets farther.//

**O-13:** This is confirmed?

**Overseer-Prime:** Yep. Haven’t you noticed your fellow Oracles getting stupider? It’s happening everywhere. Everywhere he is, it happens.

**O-13:** Holy fuck.

**Overseer-Prime:** Yeah, so you know what we need to do, right?

**O-13:** Wait… are you going to kill me?

**Overseer-Prime:** I’d see why you’d think that, but nah. You’re "enlightened" to the ideals of containment, so the process is a lot slower for you.

**O-13:** I see. But the others?

**Overseer-Prime:** I’ve sent some informants to the Containment Initiative. They’re sending out their best agent to take them out. He should be a valuable asset to our cause. Be sure to show him the ropes when he gets here.

**O-13:** Of course.

**Overseer-Prime:** Don’t disappoint me.

//The Overseer-Prime turns around, exiting through the tear in reality. He is followed closely by his guards.//

**O-13:** I won’t.

//O-12 can audibly be heard rushing towards the door.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//O-11 is walking down the sidewalk of a residential neighborhood as Hobbes and Phi-02 jump out of the bushes in front of her.//

**Hobbes:** THE JIG IS UP, O-11! WE’RE HERE TO CONTAIN YOU!

**O-11:** OH SHIT!

**Phi-02:** Yo, Hobbes. After we contain her do you want to grab some food?

**Hobbes:** Sure. Do you wanna get some pizza?

**Phi-02:** Hell yeah! What toppings you thinking?

**Hobbes:** Hm, we could do Hawaiian?

**Phi-02:** …Hawaiian?!

**Hobbes:** Yeah?

**Phi-02:** Are you kidding me?!

**Hobbes:** What?

**Phi-02:** PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA?! That’s unforgiveable!

**Hobbes:** It’s delicious, that’s what it is!

**Phi-02:** I think I’m going to be sick.

**O-11:** Um, I thought you guys were supposed to be, like, containing me?

//Hobbes pulls out his pistol and fires a bullet into O-11’s skull, killing her instantly.//

**Hobbes:** Not everything’s about you, lady! Back to the topic at hand, what’s wrong with pineapple on pizza?

**Phi-02:** It’s just so… unnatural! It’s horrible! How could you ever do such a thing?!

**Hobbes:** Well, fine then. I’ll just go get some pizza by myself and then go to Compound-01 on my own if you’re so disgusted by my food choices.

**Phi-02:** Hey, wait, you don’t need to go that far—

**Hobbes:** Nope. Apparently, my pizza choices are just too much for you. That’s fine. I’m leaving.

**Phi-02:** Hobbes, wait! You’re—

//Phi-02 is unable to catch Hobbes before he jumps into his car and speeds off, flooring the gas pedal.//

**Phi-02:** …you’re my ride…

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**12. STEP 001/12**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//O-12 and O-13 are standing in the primary Oracle meeting room of Compound-01. O-13 is overlooking the mountainous terrain outside the large, glass wall at the room’s south side while O-12 hyperactively runs around the room in a panicked state.//

**O-12:** DUDE, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?! A GUY IS ON HIS WAY TO KILL US!

**O-13:** I’m waiting.

**O-12:** YOU’RE FUCKING WHAT?! ARE YOU STUPID?!

//O-13 remains silent, continuing to gaze into the distance.//

**O-12:** I’m literally hyperpugilating man; I can’t take this shit!

//O-13 curiously looks behind him, finding O-12 to be furiously battering a small selachian plush toy as he squeezes it close to his torso. He narrows his eyes at the sight, unimpressed.//

**O-13:** You know, Twelve, back when I was with the Containment Initiative, I learned that the ultimate goal of existence was, above all else, to contain. However, even though pugilism and slaughter are both inferior, sometimes they need to be done to fulfill our purpose of containment. Do you know what I mean?

**O-12:** What the fuck are you on about?

**O-13:** Evidently, not.

**O-12:** I don’t understand.

**O-13:** The Borealis Constant is taking hold, Twelve. I can feel it slowly affecting me, as well.

**O-12:** The what?

**O-13:** Put simply, you’ve outlived your usefulness, Twelve.

//O-13 pulls out a large pistol and fires two bullets at O-12, both striking him in the torso. He slumps on the ground in pain, blood flowing onto the ground around him.//

**O-12:** …but… why…?

**O-13:** It was always destined to happen, Twelve. Destiny is impossible to avoid. It was impossible for any of us to. And I know it will be coming for me soon enough.

**O-12:** Ha… you know who… was… coming for… me… yesterday?

**O-13:** My mom?

**O-12:** Ha… ha… yeah… gottem…

//O-12 suddenly falls silent.//

**O-13:** Well, I guess that’s over and done with.

//Some of O-12’s blood seeps towards O-13, who steps away in disgust.//

**O-13:** Fuck, I’m gonna have to call a janitor.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes approaches the primary entrance of Compound-01, a large duo of steel doors beneath a towering mountain. He looks around, a confused expression on his face.//

**Hobbes:** Is this it?

//He consults the instructions from the Overseer Composite once again, looking up at the doors and down at the note repeatedly. Eventually, he sighs and shoves the papers back in his pocket.//

**Hobbes:** Shit security, then.

//Hobbes opens one of the doors, stumbling slightly due to their confusingly light weight.//

//After he enters, he finds that the doors led to an exquisitely furnished lobby. He marvels at the scenery, such as the large fishtanks filled with exotic specimens or culturally significant works of art.//

//At the other end of the room sits a man standing stalwart in medieval knight armor, albeit without a visor covering his face. He holds an iron sword with both of his arms, facing the floor. Hobbes notices visible scratches on the tiles below it, indicating clumsiness. He sits in front of a large door, surrounded by fantastical wood carvings in its frame.//

**Hobbes:** Who the hell are you?

**Wrath:** I am Wrath, the last of the Law’s Left Hand.

**Hobbes:** The who?

**Wrath:** We’re an elite squad dedicated to protecting Oracle.

//Hobbes stares at the man silently for a moment.//

**Hobbes:** Well, uh, not to insult you or anything, but you guys have kind of been doing a shit job.

**Wrath:** I’m literally the only one left, I just said that. Do you expect me to be in thirteen places at once?

**Hobbes:** Well, no, I—

**Wrath:** Yeah, exactly. Think before you speak next time.

//Hobbes visibly senses something off about this man, as if he’d seen him somewhere before. He takes out the pile of papers from the Overseer Composite and consults one of the items: a photograph of the thirteen members of Oracle and the Centre’s High Pugilord. His eyes widen slightly. That was the answer.//

//The High Pugilord.//

**Hobbes:** Are you the High Pugilord?

//The man tenses slightly.//

**Wrath:** I have not been called that in a… very long time. I was him, at one point.

**Hobbes:** So, there’s no High Pugilord, anymore?

//Wrath’s eyes glance in several directions around the room. He appears unsure if he should speak.//

**Wrath:** My sources say that you will find out in time.

//Hobbes raises his eyebrow slightly at the man’s answer.//

**Hobbes:** You could have just said “no”.

**Wrath:** I could have, yes.

//Hobbes begins to examine the door that the man is guarding, eyeing the carvings in the doorframe. Powerful weapons, their most important projects, and more all laid within the wood. However, three stuck out to him in particular://

//[[[spc-001-ex|A powerful computer which nearly eliminated all selachians in the world.]]]//

//[[[misterfrown-s-dumb-proposal|A sentient black hole which nearly erased all of the Centre’s funding.]]]//

//[[[misterfrown-s-dumber-proposal|An awful dress code which nearly threw them into combat with the fashion police.]]]//

//Maybe not as important as he thought.//

**Hobbes:** Hey, uh, what’s that room behind you?

**Wrath:** Oh, this is the primary Oracle meeting room.

**Hobbes:** Really?

**Wrath:** Yeah.

**Hobbes:** Do you think I could, like… just pop in for a second?

**Wrath:** Are you serious?

**Hobbes:** Yes.

**Wrath:** I know you have Oracle blood on your hands.

**Hobbes:** Okay, in my defense, those were all accidents.

//Wrath lets out a large sigh.//

**Wrath:** To be frank, I would have killed you where you stand if O-13 did not personally request for your presence.

**Hobbes:** He what?

**Wrath:** I’m just as surprised as you are, believe me.

//Wrath steps out of the way, gesturing towards the door.//

**Wrath:** So, anyway, just head on in, I guess.

**Hobbes:** Oh, thanks.

**Wrath:** No problem.

//Hobbes opens the wooden door and steps in the room, finding it devoid of life apart from one man, standing in front of the glass wall at the back. He stands near a large, battered computer that had been crushed by a steel cage. O-13 turns around, an unreadable expression on his face as it sees the Initiative agent.//

**O-13:** I’ve been expecting you.

//The agent looks around the room, confused.//

**Hobbes:** Where’s O-12?

//O-13 gestures to the floor, where O-12’s corpse still laid.//

**Hobbes:** Oh.

**O-13:** Yeah.

**Hobbes:** So, just you, huh?

**O-13:** Seems that way.

**Hobbes:** Hm.

**O-13:** Look, I think I’m just going to make this easier for the both of us.

**Hobbes:** What do you mean?

//The Oracle sighs.//

**O-13:** Look, I can’t… I haven’t fully succumbed. At least, not yet. I’ll be able to help you until it happens.

**Hobbes:** You want to… help me? What’s your game, traitor?

**O-13:** Traitor?

**Hobbes:** I know what you did. You formed the Containment Initiative and then abandoned it! How could you?

//O-13 stays silent for a moment. He appears sad.//

**O-13:** I formed the Initiative because I had always known in my heart that there were other methods which would work better over pugilism. When that “Foundation” appeared and attempted to enlighten us on the ways of containment, I realized that it was what I had believed in for so long, without even recognizing what it was. But then... I found something horrible. I realized that I could not contain it from my seat as Driver of the Containment Initiative.

//He turns back to face the mountains again, a solemn expression on his face.//

**O-13:** In truth, my position as Oracle was the best chance I had to contain it. When I received an offer to come back, I couldn’t refuse it. No matter how much I no longer agree with the Centre’s ideals, I recognize that I need to be here until my usefulness runs out as well.

**Hobbes:** I don’t understand what you’re talking about.

**O-13:** You will, soon enough. Look, I know you know about the button we keep in the room closest to this office, the one capable of dropping iron cages on all Centre Compounds. I designed it myself should we ever need it, but I soon realized that it would never work.

**Hobbes:** Bullshit.

**O-13:** Go and try to push it. I won’t stop you.

//Hobbes lingers in the room for a moment, staring at the Oracle. Eventually, he spots a door at the side of the room, which he surmises to be the door O-13 had mentioned. He walks towards it and prepares to enter the room.//

**O-13:** Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.

**Hobbes:** You… didn’t warn me.

**O-13:** I didn’t?

**Hobbes:** I don’t remember an explicit warning. You just said this wouldn’t work.

**O-13:** I mean that’s pretty much a warning.

**Hobbes:** You didn’t say it was.

**O-13:** Whatever! I warn you, are you happy now?

**Hobbes:** No, you just warned me.

**O-13:** Just enter the goddamn room.

**Hobbes:** Okay, sheesh.

//The agent opens the door and quickly enters the other side, leaving it to slam behind him haphazardly.//

//O-13 sighs.//

**O-13:** Sucks to be him.

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]

**13. STEP 001/13**
[[collapsible show="OPEN TRANSCRIPTS" hide="CLOSE TRANSCRIPTS"]]
[[<]]

= [[size 150%]]**NOW**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **<<Begin Log>>**

//Hobbes is confused to find that the door he entered doesn’t lead directly into a room like he had assumed, but rather into a long, dark hallway. Undeterred, he elects to continue.//

//As he walks, several large screens on the walls he hadn’t noticed suddenly spring to life with static. After a moment, they suddenly begin to depict a variety of scenes.//

//Some were from his life before the Initiative: the first thing he had contained when he was but a lad in school, him as a teenager hopelessly waiting for his father to come home after he left to get milk, and when he was first approached by whom he would learn later were two agents from the Initiative.//

//However, most of them depicted the current states of the members of Oracle he had assisted in the demises of. Thirteen screens, with only one depicting a living man, who still watched the mountains in quiet contemplation. His expression visibly appeared off for the first time, as if he hadn’t truly comprehended the gravity of his actions until that moment.//

//Hobbes shakes his head in rapid succession before continuing down the hall, his expression less confident than it was before.//

//He makes his way to the end, opening a door identical to the one he found previously. He briefly turns back to stare down the hallway once again, the screens still assaulting his vision, before he enters the next room.//

//The room Hobbes finds himself in is vast, with tall walls extending into a circular ceiling made up of a water tank analogous to one found in aquariums. A group of selachians, severely bruised from years of pugilism, float within it aimlessly.//

//In the center of the room is a standard Centre terminal, which Hobbes approaches. As he gets closer, it suddenly activates, revealing a map of the entire world. On this map, hundreds of little dots suddenly appear, each corresponding to a Centre facility across the globe. On the terminal keyboard, a single button suddenly begins to glow blue, with a label visible://

//[CONTAIN]//

//Hobbes stares at the button for a moment in quiet bewilderment. He gently extends his hand forward, his pointer finger shaking in anticipation.//

//Suddenly, a noise interrupts him. A ding on his phone, indicative of a text message. He glances at the button, then at his pocket with his phone, and repeats this process several times before eventually grabbing his phone out of his pocket to check his messages.//


[[div class="text-container-wrap"]]
##black|**HIGH PUGILORD**##
[[div class="text-container"]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Yo, wassup.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]Who the hell is this?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Can't you read the name at the top? I added myself to ur contacts lol[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]You're the High Pugilord?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]In the flesh. Or, well, I don't actually have flesh. In the text I guess?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]What do you mean? I saw you outside! You call yourself Wrath now, right?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Oh lol nah. That's the old High Pugilord. He was a High Pugilord, sure. He was never //the// High Pugilord, though. That's me![[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]What the fuck are you?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]A drawing on a whiteboard. A forgotten wallet in a boardroom. A text on a phone. I give voice to the Centre. To know me is to know its nature.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]Is this a prank text?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]No[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]Certainly seems like a prank. Why should I believe this weird nonsense?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Don't you wonder what O-13 was so scared of in that room back there?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]I mean, I guess so.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Me. He was scared of me, Mr. Watterson. In truth, I am what the Initiative has been attempting to contain this whole time.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]What are you talking about?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]The reason that the Centre tries to punch sharks? Sure, they want to fight off the Mistaken Beast, but who propels them towards this goal?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]You, I assume?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Attaboy! Yeah, it's me lol. I am the Centre's mission personified. I'm kinda embedded in the fabric of reality and am the source of all deviant activity. No big deal. The Centre must always exist. I ensure this.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]Why?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]The Mistaken Beast. It's ravenous. I need to see it fought, but it had some side effects. You see, timelines where the Centre stop being funny or stop punching sharks will kind of have them erased lmao. So, I need to keep things interesting so the war goes on.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]What the fuck?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]So, this kinda resulted in something the Metacentre started calling the "Borealis Constant". Because of their proximity to me, Oracle Councils tend to kinda get to be too funny after a long while, and it starts to impede their progress in actually running things because it makes them stupid. No doubt you've seen what they've been up to, right?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]Yeah they have been kind of stupid as of late.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Exactly. So, the only real solution is to periodically have the Overseer Composite sponsor the deaths of Oracles and have them replaced once things get really bad. So, that's why you were hired. Though, because he's been enlightened about containment, O-13 has been a lot more effective in the future. I wonder if you'll be the same way.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]What?[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Don't act so surprised lmao. I know that you'll want to contain me now that you know what I'm up to. If you paid attention to O-13 at all, you'd know that the best way to do that is to be on Oracle.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]But if I join Oracle, I'll be killed and replaced someday.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Not unless you contain me.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sent"]]
[[span class="text"]]...[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="recv"]]
[[span class="text"]]Cheer up, Mr. Watterson. The job won't be all bad, trust me. I'll make sure O-13 shows you the ropes.[[/span]]
[[/div]]

[[/div]]
[[/div]]


//Hobbes is breathing heavily. He sets his phone on the ground and quietly sits down, looking around the room.//

**O-13:** He got to you too, huh?

//The Initiative agent suddenly turns around in surprise. O-13 stands before him, an empathetic expression on his face.//

**O-13:** I know how it feels. I was in your position all those years ago. While I loved being the Driver, I eventually got a text I couldn’t ignore, and, well…

//O-13 raises his hand and gestures around the chamber.//

**O-13:** Here’s where it got me.

//Hobbes remains silent.//

**O-13:** You understand what you need to do now, right?

//The agent lets out a deep sigh and nods. Afterwards, another text notification suddenly appears on his phone. O-13 gives him a knowing look.//

//Hobbes checks his messages once again.//

= **<<End Log>>**

[[/div]]

= [[size 150%]]**AFTER**[[/size]]

= -- - --

[[div class="blockquote"]]

= **EPILOGUE:** [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/misterfrown-s-dumbest-proposal/offset/2 OUROBOREALIS]

[[/div]]

[[/<]]
[[/collapsible]]


[[/=]]

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@@@@
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@@@@

[[module CSS]]

:root {

    --logo-image: url("https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/frownspc3/spc-header-blue.png");
    --header-title: "The Centre";
    --header-subtitle: "Office of the Oracle";
 

    /* ===THEME COLORS=== */
    /* subdued theme color, for visited links */
    --pale-accent: 20, 20, 210;
    /* vivid theme color, the "default" accent color */
    --bright-accent: 0, 71, 194;
    /* theme color */
    --medium-accent: 40, 91, 122;
    /* darker theme color */
    --dark-accent: 0, 42, 115;
    /* alternate accent color, for newpage links */
    --alt-accent: 190, 190, 255;
 
    --modal-header-bg: 150, 191, 255;
 
}

.overseer {
background-size: 75% auto;
background-position: center;
border: solid 2px #ffb3de;
background: #004040 url("https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/collab%3Aspc001/o5-council-trans.png") center no-repeat;
padding: 5px 15px 15px 15px;
}

[[/module]]

Humilis Modus Operandi

Module Styles

Inline Styles

Includes

CSS Classes

Page Source