SCP-7091

Link to article: SCP-7091.

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[[include :scp-wiki:theme:last-frontier]]
[[>]]
[[module Rate]]
,,By Marceline D. Raynes,,
[[/>]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source

|item-number= 7091

|clearance= 4

|container-class= safe

|disruption-class= vlam

|risk-class= notice

]]
-----
[[=]]
+ __Special Containment Procedures__
[[/=]]
Exploration of SCP-7091 is forbidden following the conclusion of the Prometheus Mission due to the unpredictable nature of SCP-7091-1. While standard precautions for anomalous biohazardous substances have been modified for the safety of Foundation employees, the perpetually-evolving molecular alterations of SCP-7091-1 continue to present a threat to biological organisms and inorganic matter. All artifacts and materials collected during the Prometheus Mission are to remain within a cryogenic, hermetically sealed, subterranean vault beneath Site-82. This vault may only be accessed by automata which have been programmed to conduct research and experiments remotely.

Once research has been concluded, the automata are to relocate to the incinerator, which has been constructed in close proximity to the vault, and activate the machine from within. The ashes are to be examined at a safe distance by Foundation personnel in Class II hazmat suits for SCP-7091-1 particulate and, if no particulate is present, integrated into the earth. Should SCP-7091-1 remain in any capacity in the ashes, the incinerator is to be activated again and remain active until the particulate is eradicated. Personnel found to contain SCP-7091-1 are to be terminated remotely and subjected to the same processes as the automata assigned to this object.

Astronomical reports that suggest the existence of SCP-7091 by civilian scientists are to be discredited and the astronomers are to be administered Type B amnestics. Research into constructing a shield that obstructs SCP-7091 from all angles on Earth is ongoing.
[[=]]
+ __Description__
[[/=]]
[[include component:image-block
|name=location.png
|caption=Image of Crystellia B's location, captured using Space Force 3
|align=left
]]
SCP-7091 is a Dyson Sphere[[footnote]]A formerly hypothetical megastructure that completely encapsulates a star and is able to siphon most, if not all, of its energy output.[[/footnote]] located at [COORDINATES REDACTED] in the Andromeda Galaxy, 1.865 million light-years from Earth. Despite measuring 15% smaller than Sol, the star contained by SCP-7091 produces approximately 1.23 x 10^^35^^ joules per 24-hour period, roughly the same amount of energy Sol produces every year. This energy is siphoned off by SCP-7091 via solar arrays and transferred directly to the fourth planet in its solar system, named Crystellia B by Foundation astronomers. SCP-7091 is tidally locked with Crystellia B, although how this is possible given the distance and relative size difference between the two celestial objects is unknown.

The surface of Crystellia B is hypothesized to have been overtaken and altered by the abundance of SCP-7091-1. This hypothesis is supported by the ruins of a now-collapsed, space-faring civilization on Crystellia B. Due to the high concentration of SCP-7091-1 on the planet's surface and moons, a thorough investigation into the remnants of this society is not possible at this time.

SCP-7091-1 is a telepathic, parasitic black mold. SCP-7091-1 causes cells to regenerate exponentially faster than normal while also removing all motor control and autonomous bodily function in infected, sapient organisms. This process does not affect higher cognition, however. It is also capable of combining atoms of organic matter to inorganic matter, as well as combining the atoms of inorganic matter with other inorganic matter if allowed to propagate unabated.

++ __//Exploration//__
An artificial construct orbiting within Crystellia B's Roche limit was discovered to have minimal amounts of SCP-7091-1 present on its surface and within its docking port. The minimal amount of SCP-7091-1 particulate was within acceptable risk parameters outlined by the Ethics Committee. On 8 June 2087, an expedition to the artificial construct, dubbed The Prometheus Mission, was proposed by the Anomalous Astronomical Division and later approved by the O5 Council. A three-person team of interstellar exploration veterans was dispatched to investigate the structure.

Lucy Cabot, Nathaniel Burr, and Jazzmin Gibson volunteered for the anthropological mission, having all participated in deep space explorations into ancient megastructures over the last decade. They each were outfitted in Class II hazmat suits, which were worn underneath their space flight suits, and a gun that fired both incendiary and ballistic rounds. Their primary objective was to investigate the artificial construct under the assumption that, due to the relatively trace presence of SCP-7091-1, they would be able to find living members of Crystellia B's inhabitants or non-contaminated objects they left behind for study.

Using an experimental warp drive reversed engineered from Sarian technology, the Foundation was able to transport Cabot, Burr, and Gibson at speeds faster than light to Crystellia B. After a short recovery period to prevent deceleration sickness, the team disembarked the vessel and entered the artificial construct through the open port.

++ //__Prometheus Mission Log.01__//
The following recording was transmitted from the team's mounted body cameras to the ship, where it was relayed to Foundation headquarters.

[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**<Begin Log>**

**Cabot:** This is Lucille Cabot of the Prometheus Mission with our field report. We have de-warped from hyper speed about... two Earth-hours ago, and are approaching the station orbiting Crystellia B. Time now is approximately 0200.

//The artificial megastructure can be observed through the window of the vessel. The construct is large enough that its entire length cannot be viewed without panning the viewport camera. It appears to be constructed of a metal alloy, with various seams where additional metal plates were welded to the structure after its initial completion. Several grooves can be observed on the exterior, forming paths and patterns that resemble triangles. Orange lights can be seen emanating from within. At the "top" of the structure is a device resembling an antenna, with a blinking red light at the end of it.//

**Burr:** Looks like someone's home, captain. I'm picking up a ton of organisms on the inside.

**Gibson:** Could be uninfected lifeforms from Crystellia B, or maybe some S.C.[[footnote]]Sarian Collective.[[/footnote]] remnants?

**Cabot:** Run a deep scan of the area in the range of five thousand kilometers. Check for Sarian scouting ships, frigates, the works.

**Burr:** On it.

//Burr activates the vessel's exterior sensors, inputting the range suggested by Cabot. The sensor takes several minutes to compute. Once it completed its task, fourteen dark green circles indicating the presence of vehicles that are clustered together can be seen on the screen on the exterior of the structure. Several dozen smaller clusters suggesting the presence of organisms can be observed within the artificial structure as well, although they are stationary.//

**Burr:** Got something. A lot of somethings, actually. Sensor's picking up Sarian ships, but they're //way// too close together.

**Cabot:** What do you mean?

**Burr:** I mean that there's no less than fourteen S.C. ships coinciding with one another in almost the exact same space while also somehow still being distinct objects. And they're... expanding? Growing? Metal doesn't move like that.

**Gibson:** This scanner isn't malfunctioning. Perhaps this is a previously unobserved anomaly.

**Burr:** Could be. I also ran a diagnosis for local Hume levels. Everything about the Sarian ships meets our expectations of their tech. The only anomalous things I saw about that cluster of ships is the presence of SCP-7091-1. They seem to be growing almost organically too, kind of like a flower.

**Cabot:** Can we dock on that side?

**Burr:** Negative. There's too much SCP-7091-1. We're gonna have to try portside.

**Gibson:** I thought AAD[[footnote]]Anomalous Astrological Division.[[/footnote]] cleared the station?

**Cabot:** Base is a little less than two light years away, I'm not surprised they missed the cluster of ships, or the SCP-7091-1 starboard side. (To Burr) Bring her in.

**Burr:** Copy.

//The vessel approaches the portside docking bay of the artificial structure. The bay door is slightly ajar and off the tracks, and SCP-7091-1 can be observed from the viewport camera. From the other side of the bay door, a small segment of a Sarian ship can be observed. The ship's nose is protruding into the bay door, connecting the two via strands of SCP-7091-1.//

**Cabot:** Attempt a manual override.

//Gibson enters several keystrokes on the vessel's primary datapad. After several minutes, she is able to remotely access the artificial structure's mainframe. She presses a few buttons but none are able to control the bay door mechanism. She turns dials on the screen and the bay door begins to open, albeit with difficulty. After approximately one minute, the bay door mechanism experiences a mechanical malfunction and breaks off its hinges, allowing for both the door and the Sarian ship to float into space.//

**Gibson:** Well, that was... unexpected. My apologies.

**Cabot:** Any port in a storm, right Nate?

**Burr:** Strap in, folks.

//Burr brings the vessel inside and, after Gibson activates and closes the emergency doors to the structure's hangar, he powers down the vessel. The team disembarks, pistols drawn and flashlights active. The interior of the structure appears abandoned; large crates of what appear to be rations and medical supplies can be seen strewn about the floor haphazardly. There are two large space-faring frigates present, both coated in a thick layer of rust and SCP-7091-1 particulate. From the ceiling hang strands of interwoven SCP-7091-1 matter, resembling cobwebs. These strands reach from the ceiling to the wall, where they can be observed descending to the floor similar to tree roots.//

//Within the strands, in between the wall and the left-most frigate, emaciated humanoid cadavers can be seen fused to the floor. The upper dermal layer of the cadavers has been integrated with SCP-7091-1, leaving the remainder of exposed dermal tissue black.//

//What can be seen of the cadavers shows that they possessed long limbs, approximately twice as long as an average human's. The heads are bulbous and enlarged, although whether this is a result of SCP-7091-1 infection affecting necrosis or the natural shape of the organisms is unknown. The heads that are the least altered possess four eyes, a larger pair near the top of the head, and a smaller subset on the sides of the skull. The eyes of these organisms are glossed over, suggesting their cessation of life; however, when Cabot shines her flashlight on them, the eyes can be seen tracking the light.//

**Cabot:** What do you make of this?

**Gibson:** The bodies must still have some neural activity going on, given the... physiological response. Beyond poking them with a stick, though, I can't tell you if the infected are still alive or not.

//Gibson overrides a mechanism in the hangar bay, moving a pillar-like object along a track that was obstructed by the SCP-7091-1 web. The strands snap, allowing for the humanoid organisms to collapse onto the floor in front of her. Several organisms groan, while others begin speaking in Craeic, albeit with obvious strained difficulty.//

**Cabot:** Can you translate, Gibson?

**Gibson:** (She clears her throat.) I am a tad out of practice with old extra-solar dialects but... hrm... Looks like three words: Consume, expand, and... grow? I'm not sure if that is //them// talking or the SCP-7091-1, however.

**Burr:** Regardless, it looks like they didn't get very far.

**Cabot:** Doubtful. The hulls of these ships are too shot for deep space – plus, I don’t see any repair tools or automatons nearby. They were probably marooned here.

//A crashing sound is heard from deeper within the artificial structure. The team members raise their weapons as Cabot approaches the door leading to the interior. She looks through the glass viewport and, upon determining it safe to progress, activates a keypad on the side of the door, opening it. The door attempts to slide upward but the girders are obstructed. Gears church, and the door eventually snaps off its railing, falling backward. It lands away from Cabot, and making considerable amounts of noise. Cabot motions for Gibson and Burr to follow.//

//The team makes their way through a triangular corridor. The presence of SCP-7091-1 has diminished significantly from the hangar and is barely visible from the team's perspective. Sigils resembling Craeic are visible on the walls, hastily written, judging by the quality of the writing.//

**Cabot:** Gibson?

**Gibson:** Something about a spread? This character is typically associated with infection or mold. Perhaps a warning about SCP-7091-1 infection?

**Burr:** A warning? Seems a little late for that, don't ya think?

**Cabot:** It's not for them. It's for us.

**Burr:** Should we press on, Cap?

**Cabot:** ...Affirmative.

[[/div]]
++ //__Prometheus Mission Log.02__//
The following footage resumes after the team traversed through the space station. During the intermittent period of the last log and the beginning of the subsequent one, no dialog was spoken, and observations were consistent with what was already discovered, hence its exclusion from this document.

Relevant footage resumes at the entrance to an antechamber.

[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius":10 px; margin: 10px]]
**<Begin Log>**

//Camera pans, revealing a large sliding door covered in SCP-7091-1, which has formed into vine-like structures. Cabot attempts to access the door via the control panel on the right side of it. Despite a green light activating, indicating a successful connection, the door remains sealed.//

**Burr:** Blast it?

**Cabot:** I'm leaning that way, but we should exhaust our other options first. We don't know how SCP-7091-1 will react to live rounds. Incendiary might do the trick, but again, can't know for certain.

**Gibson:** Ignited mold and ash could prove hazardous.

**Burr:** Right... Maybe there's a weapon or a pipe or something around here we can pry it open with.

**Cabot:** Good thinking. Let's look around here.

//The team disperses while still remaining in visual contact with one another. Cabot examines a relatively small amalgamation of seared flesh and eyes that are bound together by SCP-7091-1. The eyes track her but do not otherwise react to her light or any additional stimuli. Cabot shines her light beyond the mass of SCP-7091-1, revealing a corridor completely obstructed by mold and fused corpses.//

//Gibson examines the ceiling. From the ceiling hang loosely formed stalactites comprised of rotten corpses, relatively devoid of SCP-7091-1. A piece of muscle matter drips from the stalactite and lands right in front of Gibson, who steps back to avoid residual splatter. At the base of the stalactites is a pattern of swirled flesh that resembles a face, albeit the "eyes" are closed. The face extends from Gibson's position deeper into the space station, disappearing into the obstructed corridor.//

//Burr rounds a stanchion-like structure with an active display atop it. The display has SCP-7091-1 on approximately 50% of its surface, although Burr is still able to activate dials and buttons on its holographic surface unabated. At his meddling, lights within the area turn on, and a ventilation system can be heard activating.//

**Burr:** Think I got something, folks.

//Gibson and Cabot make their way over to Burr. Gibson moves to stand in his place in front of the display and begins reading the symbols that have appeared.//

**Gibson:** Looks like some kind of emergency control mechanism. (She points.) That symbol means either "Back-up" or "Second". (She points elsewhere) This one says "Entrance".

**Cabot:** Might open that door.

//Gibson turns the dial below the "Entrance" sigil. Seconds later gears and other machinery can be heard turning. There is a loud stuttering sound, as if the mechanism has become obstructed by a foreign object. Gibson turns a few more holographic dials, later confirmed to be her diverting more power to this mechanism from other areas in the space station. After approximately three minutes, the vine-like structures preventing their access from the antechamber snap and the door opens.//

//Cabot pats Gibson's shoulders and leads the team through the door to the antechamber. The floor is covered with SCP-7091-1 in far greater concentration than was previously observed. The texture of the mold makes the floor partially adhesive, hindering the team's movement slightly. As they progress into the antechamber, the vine-like structures begin to contract, closing the door behind them.//

**Burr:** Shit. Captain, we have a problem.

**Gibson:** We can worry about the door later. Do you still have your datapad?

**Burr:** I do, yeah. (He checks it.) There's two organisms a few meters ahead of us, right next to each other by the looks of it.

**Cabot:** Keep an eye out.

//Along the walls of the antechamber are metal plates, twisted and reformed so that they barely resemble their original shape. Spheres comprised of non-homogenous metals and SCP-7091-1 levitate above short pillars of SCP-7091-1, arranged in two rows parallel to one another. Large display monitors are suspended at an angle from the ceiling, displaying flashing sigils that read: "Ship Construction Complete. Ready to launch?".//

//At the far wall of the antechamber are two humanoid cadavers. The bodies are approximately three meters tall and likely possessed a large amount of muscle mass, judging by the patterns on the sloughing skin that loosely resemble that of human muscle. Each cadaver has seven digits on each hand and have a digitigrade foot structure, although the cadaver on the left is missing one of its legs. The cadavers appear to be embracing one another.//

//One of the cadavers turns its head toward the team and reaches its hand out. The mouth moves, allowing the cadaver to speak although their speech is apparently impeded by the presence of SCP-7091-1 in their throat.//

**Gibson:** It is hard to tell for certain. I think it might be hungry.

**Cabot:** Let's not give them more biofuel, huh?

//At the base of the cadavers' feet is a journal, devoid of SCP-7091-1. Cabot examines the journal and, after confirming that SCP-7091-1 is not present within its pages or cover, encloses the journal in a biohazardous material transportation container.//

**Burr:** The ships were literally just a button press away from launch, Cap.

**Cabot:** Jesus.

**Gibson:** God clearly did not have good plans for them.

**Cabot:** Let's pack it in and go home. We've done everything we need to here.

**Gibson & Burr:** Copy.

**<End Log>**
[[/div]]
++ //__Recovered Scientific Journal__//
The following content was transcribed aboard the exploration team's vessel by the onboard A.I. and transmitted to Site-83 for analysis.

[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 12^^th^^ Aermith, Cycle 900

I cannot believe that it actually worked! Septimus and his legion of scientists have created a fully functioning solar siphoning machine and now we can supply all of Crestenia with power until the star explodes two decillion years from now. May the moons bless us for eternity.

A problem persists now though: we have conquered the star, bent the other twelve planets to our will, mapped out our galaxy to the smallest grain of sand on the smallest dwarf planet, but we are stranded. Marooned. Our lifespan cannot withstand the sheer length of time it would take to travel even the short distance from our solar system to the next. If I were to board a ship right now in my 100^^th^^ cycle around the sun, I would reach Seraminus as an old Craetian, my offspring would be well in their 300's, and their offspring would be preparing to have offspring of their own. This is not acceptable.

I have brought this issue to Septimus's attention the other day. He seemed upset at this realization but in turn offered //me// the opportunity to work directly under him on a solution. What great fortune he has bestowed on me. I will not let him down.

Together we Craetians will conquer the universe!
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 19^^th^^ Aermith, Cycle 900

The conventional machination of the flesh has proven to increase the longevity of a normal Craetian by 15% at the cost of routine maintenance and regular replacement of machine-parts. A solution, for sure, but not a sustainable one. Eventually all the raw material from our home and the other planets in our system will be depleted to sustain our population. We can find more elsewhere, but what happens when //everything// non-renewable runs out? Our species will perish, and it will be my fault. I cannot allow this.

Septimus has assigned me a team of individuals I am unfamiliar with. Perhaps they were from one of the outworld colonies, or maybe from a moon I didn't know about. They are willing to work and do as they're told, so I suppose their origins don't really matter all that much, do they? One of them, a strange tiny creature partially composed of metamaterials named Alph, has suggested that we convert from standard mechanized components to biomechanical ones powered by the sun. I don't think it will bode well, but for the sake of the mission, I will test it.

May the moons bless us wayward explorers.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 45^^th^^ Aermith, Cycle 900

We have been diverting power from the sun to the biomechanical Craetians as described in Alph's blueprints. So far testing has been going well. Septimus is pleased, as am I. We may have this figured out!

Septimus has begun constructing deep space exploratory ships on the space station orbiting Crestenia. He has plans for fourteen teams of colonists to each take one ship and explore a different section of our galaxy and maybe even the ones outside of our heliosphere. Our star maps are already full and beautiful of the worlds we have conquered, imagine what they will look like when we have a legion of immortal explorers to constantly update them! I can hardly contain my excitement!

I do wish I could join Septimus aboard the space station though. He says my place is here on Crestenia, in the lab, working on a solution to ensure the perpetual survival of our species. But I miss his presence.

I hope he comes to visit soon.

May the moons guide us to immortality.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 1^^st^^ Haelith, Cycle 900

Yesterday we began the space flight trial for the solar powered biomechanical Craetians. All was well, at first, until they left Crestenia's atmosphere. The raw, unfiltered solar radiation overflowed their mechanical parts, heating them up until the internal reactor couldn't withstand the heat.

Every single one of them went critical and exploded before they could kiss the stars.

I am a fool to have thought the solution would be so simple. I mourn for the loss of my people, and I am ashamed to have disappointed Septimus. I cannot even blame Alph for this, as I am the one in charge of approving, testing, and researching means to our immortality.

I am a failure.

May the moons forgive us ambitious squalors.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 3^^rd^^ Haelith, Cycle 950

Fifty cycles have passed, and we are no closer to a solution to mortality than when we started. I fear that hope may be lost. Alph has been a tremendous help to my plight, but they too are lost.

Forty-five cycles ago we began experimenting by modifying the genetic code of newly hatched Craetians, isolating the gene sequence that is responsible for our inevitable biodegradation and removing it. The children appeared normal at first. They aged and developed quicker than one would expect, with their metamorphosis occurring during their thirtieth cycle as opposed to their mid-seventies. However, despite essentially removing death from their genomes, each child experienced rapid cellular degradation at forty-two; none from our trial made it to see their 45^^th^^ cycle.

I am heartbroken. Never in all my years did I think myself a child-murderer. Septimus took a short reprieve from ship construction to deal with the parents himself. I never saw any of them again. Alph assures me that we are on approaching a breakthrough. I hope they are right.

I wish I didn't have to make these sacrifices, but it has become clear that I can no longer avoid them.

This is for the greater good.

[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 14^^th^^ Aermith, Cycle 1075

I am 275 today. I felt a kink in my bones for the first time today. I really am getting old.

Alph and I unleashed a modified strain of the Xanthan virus on a small group of Craetians about 100 cycles ago, the same one that killed the Sarian Collective all those years ago. The modifications were difficult to make, and a stable, albeit non-lethal strain of the Xanthan virus proved even more taxing on us. But it was made, and now it is done.

The older Craetians succumbed to the expected symptoms; violent coughing, sloughing of the skin, loss of extremities. But the younger ones appeared to have an innate inoculation against our little virus. At first, they were unaffected, but as the cycles passed and they grew older, they did not show any signs of visible age or degradation. Their skin was as smooth as the day they completed metamorphosis. They were agile, alert, and quick to react. Unlike me, that is.

This was it! The solution we've been looking for! I cannot wait to bring Septimus this news.

May the moons bring us joy for eternity to come.

[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 30^^th^^ Aermith, Cycle 1075

Septimus has completed ten of "his" proposed fleet. I say "his" because, in truth, the ships are just repurposed Sarian transportation vessels he'd found abandoned on the dark side of Crestenia. Still, who am I to discredit his work?

Alph and I brought one of the infected Craetians with us to show him. They had proven immune to solar radiation, and this one, in particular, seemed to actually favor space travel. Septimus was pleased with our work. I was pleased with our work.

When we returned the infected to Crestenia, however, it began to decompose almost immediately. It complained of headaches, body soreness, felt like its organs were being crushed under the gravity of our planet. All the symptoms of lethal depressurization sickness.

I am confused. Why was this happening so long after we disembarked? It does not make any sense! For all intents and purposes, those infected with the modified Xanthan virus were not able to leave Crestenia or any planet, and return without disastrous consequences. This is a massive setback, for certain. But one we can recover from.

I am close to a breakthrough.

May the moons provide guidance in our feeble pursuit.

[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 4^^th^^ Haelith, Cycle 1214

Septimus grows old as the last of his ships near completion. I too, am getting on in my years. I should have offspring by now, and they too should be rearing the next generation of Craetians into life. And yet here I am with Alph, stuck in the confines of this infernal laboratory, trying to understand why I cannot release us from the binds of mortality. I am 314, and I have accomplished nothing.

[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 16^^th^^ Aermith, 1300

Hope to explore the galaxy and beyond has fallen in our people. Alph has become infected with some sort of fungal growth they encountered while scrounging the caves for new test subjects. We've all but been abandoned at this point. When I walk through town, they point and jeer at me, mocking me and my team for our failures. I should like to see any other Craetion suffer under the same pressure as I. They would crumble in twenty cycles, maybe less!

I attempted to treat Alph with the remaining medical supplies at the lab, but every insertion I made sealed before I could extract the fungus. Remarkably, Alph claimed they felt well enough despite the obvious change to their physical appearance. I hope they aren't suffering from delirium.

Septimus has been silent lately. I dare not approach him on the space station, lest he too look at me the same way the Craetioas down here do. I will find a solution for you, Septimus, or my name isn't Allenya.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
**Star Date:** 14^^th^^ Haelith, 1389

Alph does not age. What I thought to be fungus in their internal structure was actually mold, black in color and... alive. I had looked into their internal structure with their consent and found that all of Alph's organs, including those critical to survival, had simply died. They were overtaken by the mold, and were now operating under its instruction. The body is dead, and yet Alph remains, autonomous and of sound mind.

Apart from a severe cough and the occasional expulsion of black liquid from their mouth, Alph is well.

This is it! Tomorrow I will board a ship to the space station and bring Septimus the news myself. We are immortal at last!
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
The mold does more than regenerate the body, as I have found out through observation. It adapts to the will of the host. Septimus and his construction crew have found renewed strength since their infection, and they are able to lift objects and metamaterials without machine assistance! Our food harvesters can collect raw material swifter, our physical champions can perform athletic feats significantly easier and with faster reaction time, and our scientists, including myself, have shown enhanced intelligence. This mold is truly a gift from the moons. I am grateful to Alph for discovering it.

The ships are nearly completed and soon we will be able to explore with undying bodies. I find it harder and harder to think of anything else. Perhaps I am excited, perhaps I am obsessed. Either way, I cannot wait to see what will become of our exploration. The galaxy awaits.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
40^^th^^ Aermith, 1450

My mind wanders sometimes. My thoughts are my own on most days, but every so often I find that I am... absent... from my body. It is as if my body is acting on its own accord in these moments when I am not there, but I cannot confirm this on my own. Alph claims to have felt the same way, no one else that we've talked to has though. Perhaps it is the stress of expansion, of growth of the Craetian race, that is getting to us.

Every time we try to conduct tests on ourselves though, we find that the same circumstances occur. Recording devices that we set up are dismantled at our hand, outside observers lose interest and leave once testing begins.

Septimus hasn't responded to my correspondence either. I wish to see him, but I cannot seem to enter a ship.
[[/div]]

[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
I heard it today. The voice. It was telling me to grow, to expand, to consume. It is a guttural thing, one that stems from a place I do not wish to know of. My mind fights for control harder and harder with each passing cycle. There are days when I cannot see my environment, and all I see is the mold.

I can feel it growing slowly in my internal anatomy. I can feel the fuzzy pricks of cilia behind my eyes and in my teeth and beneath my scales. I wanted to ask Alph if they had felt the same symptoms as I, but all that came out of my mouth was "growth".

The Craetians all look the same now. Their eyes are pitch black and fuzzy. Their scales are made of cilia. Their bodies are made of mold. I can hear them talking to me, though their mouths do not move. They whisper into my ear about the darkness, about the hunger, about the spread.

I do not want to go into that dark place.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
Mold spreads at alarming rates.

It covers a quarter of the planet now. Septimus is building automatons to help pilot a ship into deep space. There are not enough of us to escape the mold. It will grow. It will spread. It will consume. There is no stopping it.

We are immortal. We are one. My thoughts are hardly my own anymore. I can hear the thoughts of my people echoing in my mind more intensely now. It is overwhelming at times, but there are moments where their voices are quiet. It never stops, though. The voices, that is. They cry and blame me for their suffering in this... collective consciousness. They want freedom. I cannot give them this.

I am always hungry.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
Spreading. Infected on space station.

My hands hurt. My mind hurts. Can't fight for control much longer. Septimus worries.

I am fine. I am everything everywhere all at once. I am Crestenia. I am the moon. I am myself.

The hunger is excruciating.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
I ate a Craetian, absorbed their molded body into mine. I felt full. I must eat again.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
The spread. Growth.

The universe is a morsel, and I am a predator.

It awaits my consumption.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
I will eat the stars.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
I am in that dark place now. I can feel myself slipping deeper each day of each cycle that passes by. I can hardly form a thought outside of the hunger. I can hear a ship approaching. I do not recognize the design.

Someone please save me.
[[/div]]
[[div class="blockquote" style="border-radius: 10px; margin: 10px"]]
All is well.
[[/div]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box
|author=Marceline_Raynes]]
=====
Composites using CC images that were edited by me

**Earth.png**
> **Source:** https://wordpress.org/openverse/image/763c65bc-ba06-46c2-a62f-fcad9eab244b
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0.
> **Title:** "Earth"
> **Author:** kristian fagerström
> **Release Year:** 2017

**Earth.png**
> **Source:** https://wordpress.org/openverse/image/2ab9d52b-f533-488e-8fae-3fbe6b95be17
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Title:** "concrete cracks"
> **Author:** willc2
> **Release Year:** 2002

**Explorers.png**
> **Source:** https://wordpress.org/openverse/image/35f0d7f0-0aa6-4723-805d-0bc846bc134b
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Title:** "Village Face Paint near Anjajavy"
> **Author:** DavidDennisPhotos.com
> **Release Year:** 2007

**Explorers.png**
> **Source:** [[*user Marceline_Raynes]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Title:** "My beautiful wife"
> **Author:** Marcelles Diablo Raynes
> **Release Year:** 2022

**Explorers.png**
> **Source:** [https://wordpress.org/openverse/image/87105596-dc45-487e-ae35-fdd5afb63926]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Title:** "astronaut"
> **Author:** Oregon State University
> **Release year:** 2012

**location.png**
> **Source:** [[*user Marceline_Raynes]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Title:** "Nebula"
> **Author:** Marcelles Diablo Raynes
> **Release Year:** 2022

**location.png**
> **Source:** [[*user Marceline_Raynes]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Title:** "Crystellia B"
> **Author:** Marcelles Diablo Raynes
> **Release Year:** 2022

=====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]

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