SCP-5018-2

Link to article: SCP-5018-2.

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-----
[[=]]
[[size 200%]]PROPERTY OF ##red|**THE SCP FOUNDATION**##.[[/size]]
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[[=]]
[[image https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/e/ec/SCP_Foundation_%28emblem%29.svg/200px-SCP_Foundation_%28emblem%29.svg.png]]
[[/=]]
[[=]]
[[size 200%]] ##red|Secure. Contain. Protect.##[[/size]]
[[/=]]
[[=]]
[[size 150%]]ANY ATTEMPTS TO ACQUIRE THIS INFORMATION WITHOUT THE PROPER CLEARANCE WILL BE LOGGED AND TRACKED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.[[/size]]
[[/=]]
-----
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[[=]]
[[size 150%]]CLEARANCE LEVEL VERIFIED: HELLO DIRECTOR DAVID BOLD.[[/size]]
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[[size 125%]]> The following information was retrieved from **[UNKNOWN SOURCE]**. Data integrity is at 42%. Showing retrieved files...[[/size]]
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[[size 175%]][[collapsible show="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 06-12-2010]" hide="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 06-12-2010]"]][[/size]]

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|type=audio
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@<[>@//Start of Audio Log//@<]>@

Well, well, well, the first day as Director, and guess what? I need to respond to a Code Superblue from another site. Jesus.

Haha, well that aside, not gonna complain, this is a pretty sweet gig. Even Senior Researcher doesn't get you this comfy-ass chair. Guess we know where the Foundation's money goes now.

But I can't deny, I'm nervous as shit. Having an entire Site report to you, compared to just a small team last time, really does a number on your nerves. I nearly shit myself when the Head of Security offered to drive me to my meeting. The guy's scarier than Seventy-Six.

But I'm managing well, I guess. I've dispatched seven MTFs to Site-71. Hopefully, that'll be enough. I wonder what will happen once it's over.

Shit, I'm late for a meeting. End Recording.

@<[>@//End of Audio Log//@<]>@

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[[size 175%]][[collapsible show="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 03-01-2011]" hide="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 03-01-2011]"]][[/size]]

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@<[>@//Start of Audio Log//@<]>@

Things are beginning to escalate. The MTF was able to transport a few of the anomalies from 71, but getting them into the proper containment cost us a lot of time and effort. The Council also messed up our request for extra resources, so we're going to have to wait another week before we can continue our research. Thankfully we have some reserves that we're relying on for now, but hopefully, those supplies come in sooner rather than later. I mean, how do you do that? I call bullshit, but there's nothing I can do about it now.

Everything's going well, despite the recent events. All the current projects we've got are showing positive results. We even have a new transfer coming in for a few months. His name is Doctor Fullham, and apparently, he's getting along with all the staff well. Let's hope we continue getting more people like him, yeah?

Alright, I've been avoiding this damn paperwork for too long. I guess it's time for me to get this all done before someone from Site 88 gets worried. Hell, maybe this good luck will stay with me, right?

I'm hoping for the best.

Bold, signing out.

@<[>@//End of Audio Log//@<]>@

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[[size 175%]][[collapsible show="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 15-02-2011]" hide="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 15-02-2011]"]][[/size]]

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@<[>@//Start of Audio Log//@<]>@

Its rocky as a start towards being a director. The entire fiasco with 71 has already caused enough chaos. I've had to mobilize almost the entirety of our assets just to handle all the incoming anomalies. We're still missing a few, including a music box that can transfer consciousness to items, and an anomalous computer virus.

On top of that, we lost 3 security personnel today, when one of the Keters from 71 had broken out. Turns out someone neglected to mention that the bastard could phase through matter. Disintegrated the nearest patrol before someone could hit the anchors. I'm sending the surviving member of that patrol for immediate counseling. You just don't shake those kinds of things off.

The chief of security sent me the cover letters. Adrian Pickman, Lucia Reinette, Gary McKay. Suicide, suicide, MIA with a suspected drug problem. I didn't think much about it back then, but now my signature is the one in the letter. I want to tell the goddamn truth, but the O5s won't let me. Secrecy for the sake of the world and all that stuff.

I still can't help feeling that I did the wrong thing.

End recording.

@<[>@//End of Audio Log//@<]>@

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[[size 175%]][[collapsible show="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 03-03-2011]" hide="[JOURNAL AUDIO LOG: 03-03-2011]"]][[/size]]

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@<[>@//Start of Audio Log//@<]>@

It's been three weeks. I've been getting so angry that I've started to feel dizzy. The council just keeps on sending me more anomalies and fewer answers. I already had to deal with five containment breaches, and all they cared about was whether it was back in containment and if I was handling things. As if! For every person that dies, I get a new one. This... this isn't solving the problem. It's like a kid getting cut on the same thing repeatedly. They're not getting rid of the danger, they're just throwing band-aids at us! I'm no closer to understanding any of the new anomalies that I have.

I've requested repeatedly to transport the anomalies to Sites that are better prepared than us. Only one or two of them pass, the rest is "sorry, but the blah-blah aspect prevents us from doing so". Fucking excuses and they know it!

Fuck, the alarm went off. What is it this time?

@<[>@//Audio Log Timeout//@<]>@

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@<[>@//Start of Audio Log//@<]>@

I'm tempted to find a quote regarding perfectionism, but I can't be assed.

I'm sick of this charade, of this farce that we play. Pretending that's everything's all right when it isn't. This joke we play, it isn't right. We simply have too many anomalies to study and too few researchers who actually //know what the fuck they're doing!// I've been sending email after bloody email to Command, begging them to send more researchers. I've already had 4 containment breaches, which while not //apocalyptic//, still made us lose two dozen personnel. Command's breathing down my neck, but they don't even give two shits. 

I've already started researching some of the anomalies, an anomalous computer virus, and that other one that can transfer consciousness. Normally, it's bad practice for a Site Director to assume Head Researcher position, but we're just so low on actual experts that I'm done caring about social etiquette and norms. Say what you want, I must do what's necessary to preserve my Site. I have to! Damn those suck up bastards! If anyon- 

//Site alarms begin to sound.//

What, what the fuck is going on? Oh goddamnit! Fuck! [Site-119 PA system is activated] All personnel, this is Bold! Evacuate immediately to your assigned rally points. I'm initiating a lockdown procedure! All personnel, this is a Code Coldsilver! We have a massive containment breach in the Keter Wing! Shit, come on, come on. Ok, it's done! I'm getting out of here.

@<[>@//Audio Log Timeout//@<]>@

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@<[>@//Start of Unknown Audio Log//@<]>@


Look where we are... I can't believe it. Just you and me. Together. I guess you could call this a "bittersweet" conclusion, eh Argost? I apologize for the cryptic messages. Getting used to this new form has been difficult. It was actually just this recently that I could finally break through the Foundations encryptions. And because of how much of the script was already on-file, it was very easy to find and contact you, even in my state.

It's such a shame, really. The entire story. How it took everything, including the failure of Site 119 to finally get through to the O5. How crazy is that? How many lives had to be lost, just to get their attention? It just... it amazes me, to say the least.

//**But no matter. We're here now.**//

I guess I should be saying, "thanks." I mean, without you, I wouldn't have been able to get this far, as crazy as that sounds. You were a crucial part of the plan. I was relying on that curious mind of yours, as well as that tenacity to get you where I needed. It seems like it paid off in the end. Hell, I'm sure you're still confused about what's going on.

//**But don't mind that now, Argost.**//

You're probably wondering who I am. Well, if it's not obvious by now, I'm Director Bold. Ex-Director Bold, actually. I wonder, is that surprising to you, Argost? Trust me, I thought I was dead too. For months I stayed asleep, believing my time had run out. But... //it hadn't//. In some strange series of events, I'm still here... albeit in this... code. Sometimes I wish I had died. Just so this feeling of pain and regret could disappear. But, now that I talk about it, I realize that it's selfish for me to think that. It's unfair of me to pin that on myself. It wasn't my fault. I //did// try.

//**It was their faults. That detonation should've never happened. Now I'm permanently stuck in this form... because of that box.**//

It was an accident really. I guess it began after being exposed to the music box. From what we discovered, the anomaly should have manifested later than it did. I assume that, because of my anger and resentment, it shortened the process. Must've been just before the explosion when I merged.

It feels weird now to look back before I became... //this//. All of those emotions I hid away, just so I could pretend like I was doing something right. I got caught up in the moment trying to be perfect like the rest of them. Argost, let me ask you a question. Do you think that trying to be perfect makes you a bad person?

//**You don't have to answer. It won't matter now.**//

The Foundation will never admit it, but their leaders are flawed. Each and every one of them. For years now, their leadership has failed thousands of people. All because they lack the proper resolve to own up to their mistakes. It's pitiful, to say the least. Innocent people are fucking dying Argost. And it's because the O5 has forgotten them.

 //**How does that not bother you?**//

Do you want to know what I've sacrificed? I've lost my mother and father. A brother and 3 sisters. 2 nephews and a niece. I've lost my wife and my daughter. All because I was cast away and ignored by the same people you work for. Now that 3-year-old little girl doesn't have a dad in her life, while my wife is forced to suffer through it all. Do you think that's okay?

//**Don't you dare tell me yes!**//

My wife... Ann, she used to tell how much she loved the roses outside of our house. She'd always compliment them when we drove past, always talking about how pretty they were. She truly believed that those roses were perfect and beautiful. But now she's gone. Just like the rest of them.

The Foundation believes itself to be a rose among a field of weeds. I exist as a reminder of their ignorance. They have killed too many innocents and broken too many families. Intervention is the only way.

I have never wanted to cause bloodshed. But I realize now that I can't be afraid to spill some. Not anymore. I have to prove to myself that the ends justify the means. It's the only way I can validate my actions. They may call me a fanatic for it, or a radical. But I have seen //hundreds// of people I cared about die right in front of me. I am not afraid to lose some more to prevent the Foundation from killing any more innocents.

Be warned, Argost. I will rip //every// petal from this rose's stem until the Foundation can understand what it's doing. I will lay it broken along the side of the road where it belongs. And because you're here Argost, I can finally access their network. With your help, I can do some actual damage.

They listened when Site 119 exploded, I wonder if they will for 71 too? After all, it was their anomalies that caused my transformation. After piggybacking from your connection, it should be rather easy to get into their network. So, this is where we part ways Argost. I realize how much trouble you're about to be in, but understand that it's for a worthy cause. I've closed all your outside connections so I could prevent you from contacting the Foundation. You should go ahead and sit back to watch the fireworks.

//**Just remember: this is because of you.**//

Bold, signing out.

@<[>@//End of Unknown Audio Log//@<]>@


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