Sephirot

Link to article: Sephirot.
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[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2
|eng=Malkuth |hebrew=מַלְכוּת |accent=#D1670B
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|description=
The whispers of deities long rejected by the corpus of mankind echo in your brain. Whispers on the winds of an age long past its due. Words of silver and gold; the product of *human* hands. Wine and bread overflowing down from the stars directly into your mind's greedy gullet. It doesn't take a poet to recognize the hollow of their words; it takes a *prophet*. It takes *you*.

Keep your eyes heavenward, Dante. Paradiso still awaits.
|slug=SCP-9911 | author=Aftokrator
|nodeclass=malkuth
|title=Symphonia Universalis
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Yesod |hebrew=יְסוֹד |accent=#898A78
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|description=The crushing burden of responsibility rests upon your shoulders. You are a *researcher*. It is *your* job to make things happen — *your* job to transform ephemeral ideas into concrete action. To mold the world in your image and carve out the path of reason.

But now it's a cold September night. Your hands are shaking. There's a soft weeping through the walls. You'll look back and find that your life's road has been spiraling down the gutter. Perhaps your life is spiraling too. There are still things you will need to carve.
|title=Two-Way Street
|slug=SCP-8984 | author=psul |nodeclass=yesod]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Hod |hebrew=הוֹד |accent=#F6C403
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|description=Here it is. The weight of reality finally nuzzling into the depths of your malnourished hippocampus. Twenty years of life wasted between endless shelves of anime figurines and crippling quantities of self-loathing. Burying your past under semen-stained blankets and spending your days kneeling before the altars of your *own* idolatry. Golden spoons drip-feeding poison caked in manna from heaven. 

Would your parents be proud, Chrysophilius Marshall? Would *anyone* be?
|slug=scp-9770
|title=My Mother, My Lover, and My Golden Calf
|author=xexnoncores
|nodeclass=hod]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Netzach |hebrew=נֶצַח |accent=#B52222
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|description=The safehouse is far from safe. The boss is less than helpful. The bodyguard is worse than monstrous. And the Coldest War between America and the Foundation is hotter than ever. *As* Dr. Amitha Sanmugasunderam, Chair of Mathematics and Sidhe Chess Grandmaster, Archmagus of the Foundation's Sixth Throne, the wetwork you conduct on your Overseer's behalf has sent you fleeing for your life like a cornered rat. You will scrape and claw free from this nightmare or perish in the attempt. Let's hope you're up to the challenge.
|slug=scp-9660
|title=The Useless Werewolf Machine
|author=A Random Day
|nodeclass=netzach]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Tiphereth |hebrew=תִּפְאֶרֶת |accent=#733B2D
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|description="Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." That's what everyone claims, but you know it's a load of rubbish. Individualism is a smokescreen, a filter applied directly to the source; these are things that *fives* and *sixes* say to delude themselves into thinking they're worth something *more* than their looks. It only takes a glance in the mirror to shatter their illusions. Narcissus' worth only goes as far as his reflection; it's always been a *puddle*, not an ocean. Everyone knows it, even if they're too afraid to say it.

You'll come out on top, though. You'll just need a little help from above to tip the scales.
|nodeclass=tiphereth
|slug=scp-9490
|title=For The Fairest
|author=Queerious
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Chesed|hebrew=חֶסֶד|accent=#D76171| nodeclass=chesed
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|audio-file=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-anthology-2025/chesed.mp3
|description=When you were born, your brain was a disparate connection of neurons and neurotransmitters. A flurry of activity. Your brain started working overtime to make sense of it all, and it never stopped. And it won't ever stop: not until your blood vessels break and your bones rot in the dirt, and your eyes are closed for the final time.

Wouldn't it be better to not go through all the effort? Wouldn't it be a mercy, just to skip to the end?
|slug=scp-9220
|title=Dry Birth
|author=Deadcanons
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Geburah |hebrew=גְּבוּרָה |accent=#3057D9|nodeclass=geburah
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|description=The scene shifts. A lone island in the midst of the deep, a gilded ark tumbling atop turbulent seas. There are no lamps here, nor maps, no stars to guide the way. No harbors yet remain. The crewmen steer the ship aimlessly, carried by the wind and waves, the taste of the sea saline and sublime on blistering tongues. You are the final piece of this ersatz Ship of Theseus: their captain. But although proclaimed the one-eyed king in the land of the blind, you're beginning to suspect that you may have been given a prosthetic instead.

Stringency is a kindness for those who make decisions in the dark, Noah. You wouldn't survive the light, anyway.
|slug=scp-9880
|title=This Corner of the World
|author=felixou
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Hokma |hebrew=חָכְמָה |accent=#006cc4
|nodeclass=hokma
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|audio-file=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-anthology-2025/hokma.mp3
|description=Humid. Damp. Moist. Wet. Dripping. Soused. Drenched. Soaked. Immersed. Plunged. Flooded. Saturated. Inundated. Waterlogged. Engulfed. Deluged. Submerged. Devoured. Suffocating. Descending. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking. Sinking.

Sapir-Whorf's Inuits had fifty words for snow. The primordial tongue has fifty *million* for Drowning.
|slug=scp-9330
|title=Still Waters Run Deep
|author=Intercedent
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Binah |hebrew=בִּינָה |accent=#3FDE45
|icon=url(https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-anthology-2025/binah_icon.webp)
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|audio-file=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-anthology-2025/binah.mp3
|description=There is endless data around you. Right now, through invisible streams and waves, knowledge is being exchanged at rates far too quickly for you to comprehend. Information that you are not privy to. Information that they do not want you to know. Information that you *will* learn, one way or another.

Don't worry, it will all make sense soon enough. Just keep your feet forward. You can only go so far as your eyes can take you.
|slug=scp-8483
|title=Machine, Learning
|author=Tao McCawley
|nodeclass=binah]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Keter |hebrew=כֶּתֶר |accent=#F0D8EB
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|audio-file=https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/local--files/scp-anthology-2025/keter.mp3
|description=And here we are. The crescendo. The *Ein Sof*. The Crown. The emanation of nothing into everything. It shines brilliantly above you, but all you can feel is the cold of space nestled between the corona's clutches. Its existence promises everything and nothing. It is a one-way ticket, twice taken, with no refunds.

It is, in other words, the end. Or perhaps, the beginning of something entirely new. You don't know. You'll learn it soon enough, anyway: all that'll remain after you're gone are the memories of a white and shining fire, burning dimly against the black of an endless horizon.
|slug=scp-9987
|title=A White and Shining Fire
|author=Tufto
|nodeclass=keter
]]

[[include :scp-sandbox-3:collab:thingy2 |eng=Daat |hebrew=דַּעַת |accent=#6632C7
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|description=You can almost see the outline of her face again. Running toward you, replaying over and over in your mind. Your recollection of the moment is perfect. The smell of kerosene and the echoing of footsteps. The fear you felt. The shrill cries and the panic in her face. The dark. The *crushing* dark. Over and over. Again and again. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, steel to steel.

There's nothing left to wonder anymore, because you already realized it a long time ago: there is no meaning behind the words. You're all just *actors*. The work continues onwards with or without you, unrelenting and apathetic to your grief. You now remember what they told you after your first loop: once you're here, you're here forever.
|slug=scp-9423
|title=Kafka's Labyrinth
|author=DrEverettMann 
|nodeclass=daat
]]
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Sephirot

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