Link to article: Audio Logs: Last Man Standing.
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[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] **[[Accessing Site 23 Logs.]] [[ /// DATABASE CORRUPTED /// ]] [[Identifying and playing most recent playable Audio Logs.]]** **[[Log: XC/CC/????-ERROR: DATE LOG CORRUPTED]] [[Original Login: Kensington, Jacob; Level 2 Clearance]] [[Access Point: [ /// DATA RESTRICTED /// ] ]] [[Audio Log Transcript: Begin]]** **[Long Pause]** Imagine you work for a secret foundation, one whose sole purpose for existence is to secure, contain, and protect any and all unusual objects or creatures - supernatural, extraterrestrial, or otherwise. They have hundreds of those objects: some are harmless and safe, while others can mutate your body into a machine and dissolve your mind into a soul-less husk of your former self. Still others can cause wide-spread paranoia, fear, anger, and hallucinations. There are even a few that can cause the Earth itself to shatter into millions of shards of rock, and turn all humans into the undead. This secret foundation holds them all in containment to protect the billions of souls resting on the Earth. And imagine you are tasked with studying, analyzing, and defending those objects, all without getting you, your colleagues, or civilians killed. No pressure, right? **[Nervous chuckling]** Well, that's what I did, day in and day out, putting myself in danger for humanity. It may seem dangerous, and it was, but it was fun, paid well, and I worked with some of the most bad-ass people you could ever meet...emphasis on the past tense, sadly. Now imagine something different. Imagine if the specimens were all unleashed. Every. Single. One. In one day, billions would die from the chaos that would ensue. Countless other millions would be transformed into grotesque creatures, the likes of which the world has not seen for centuries. The hundreds of thousands who "survived" would find themselves in a world completely distorted and undistinguished from the bright, green and blue world they had just experienced a day ago. Now you are starting to realize something, aren't you? This isn't hypothetical. After all, you're living the nightmare. And it's all because of us. Because of our failures. ** [Long pause]** You know how it is now. A few survivor sites, mainly at secured military sites or small farmsteads around the world. Some have even managed to take over old Foundation sites. They're safer now, what with all of the objects either out causing chaos or destroyed. I’ve been sitting here, at Site 23, alone. Hell, no harm in revealing where I am. It’s not like anyone who wants me dead will know where Site 23 actually is. I'm rambling, now, aren't I? I wouldn't be surprised. I think I may, //may//, be starting to go a little crazy. These logs are the only things keeping me sane. Sane. Sanity. Funny word, that. I know I’m losing my grip on my own sanity and coherence, after half a decade of self-imposed exile. Or quarantine. Whichever makes more sense. Anyways, if you’re reading this, I am probably dead. It only took me…five years to die? Yeah. Five years. Five long, lonely years. I might as well try to give you a history of what happened to the world five years ago. If I can remember... **[Pause]** That’s the thing, though. I don’t remember what happened. I spent every waking moment trying to figure out how every single artifact or contained creature escaped to destroy the world. No reason makes sense. Was it an inside job? A containment breach? War? Catastrophic failure of safety systems and the nuclear failsafes? It must be some combination of the reasons, but…I can’t speak for any of the other sites. Site 19…Site 21…Site 7… **[Pause with soft sighs]** You know how it feels to watch the world die? Of course you wouldn’t. No one would. And you would be lucky. You wouldn’t have to see people ripped apart by lizard-like monstrosities. You wouldn’t have to see entire cities turn into machines, with the people turning into freak robots with no sense of humanity. That’s what happened to London…and New York City…and…god knows how many other cities. I watched as Washington D.C. was blown off the map by a nuclear missile. I watched as the entire Midwestern United States turn into **[Unintelligible]** and turn grey and orange from the ashes and fire. That’s all I was able to do. Watch. Wait. Until that one day I found- **[[ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED. CONTINUING FROM NEXT AVAILABLE POSITION]]** -list of my colleagues who didn’t make it. I made a list as I tried to track them all down. Oh god…There’s so many… **[Sobs]** Most of the administrators are gone…Doctor...Doctor **[Unintelligible]** Clef…Doctor Agatha Rights…Doctor Jack Bright…Doctor Snorlison. Doctor Simon Glass… **[[ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED. CONTINUING FROM NEXT AVAILABLE POSITION]]** …Doctor Heiden…Doctor Aura…Doctor Mackenzie…Agent Strelnikov…Mr. Avery Cates…Doctor Winters…Doctor Light…Agent Zaeyde… **[[ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED. CONTINUING FROM NEXT AVAILABLE POSITION]]** …and Agent Harper. That’s the last one…probably… **[Brief Pause]** I think I may be last one alive. The last one who remembers what we did, what we tried to do for the World. I don't think this will be kept safe for nearly long enough, but I might as well try. To anyone who finds this, know that I have done my duty. I have tried to make things right from here. I will return one day to make things right. I will return, with or without my colleagues. I have no illusions ahead of me. I will most likely die before I ever make it back, but at least I’ll be with the people I worked with if I do. People who I know and feel safer with. So…this is it. This has been Dr. Jacob Kensington, Robotics Expert and Staff Researcher at Site 23, last known Foundation researcher still alive. Good bye. **[[End Log]]** [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]