SCP-8273

Link to article: SCP-8273.

Module Styles

• :root {
  --neuter: 66, 66, 72
  }

• .lines {
    padding: 4px 16px 4px 16px;
    box-shadow: 0px 0px 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.3);
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    width: 85%;
    margin: auto;
    margin-bottom: 28px;
    margin-top: 28px;
    border: solid 5px #FF0000;
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• .inevitablink a{
      color: #ffd700;
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• :root {
  --problem: 241, 167, 92
  }

• /* anendlessusername's invaluable correction of the ACS octagon! */
  #page-content .quadrants > div {
      top: 2.25%;
      left: 18.5%;
  }

• :root {
      --timeDelay: 0.5s;
  }

• .anom-bar-container.danger .danger-diamond > .quadrants > .right-quad {
   background-color:rgba(255,109,0,0.25);
   background-color: rgb(255,109,0,0.25);

Inline Styles

• display: none;

• border:solid 1px #999999; background:#F7D3D3; padding-left:12px; padding-right:12px; padding-top:6px; margin-bottom: 10px;

• border-collapse:collapse; width:700px

• border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; width:50%

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; width:50%

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; 

• border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;

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• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

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• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;

• border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;

• border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;

• border:solid 1px #999999; background:#E2F4FF; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px;margin-bottom: 16px;

• border:solid 1px #999999; background:#E2F4FF; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px;margin-bottom: 16px;

• border-collapse:collapse;

• border: 3px solid #FFD700; background-color: #FFD700; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center

• border: 3px solid #FFD700; background-color: #2F333C; color: #E7E7E7; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;

• border: 2px solid #14161C

• padding: -5px; border: 2px solid #14161C; color: #E7E7E7; background-color: #21252E; text-align: center

Includes

• :scp-wiki:component:preview [info]
• component:image-block
• :scp-wiki:theme:blankstyle [info]
• :scp-wiki:info:start [info]
• :scp-wiki:info:end [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:acs-peppo-split [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:customizable-acs [info]
• component:image-block
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• fragment:scp-8273-2
• component:image-block
• :scp-wiki:component:license-box [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end [info]

CSS Classes

• sidebox

• fnnum

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• ettra_memo

• anchor

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• footer-wikiwalk-nav

Page Source

====
[[include :scp-wiki:component:preview
text= Home is other people.
]]
=====

[[div id="cromthumbnail" style="display: none;"]]
[[include component:image-block
name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Ibanez_Preview.png
|caption=Delfina Ibanez
|width=100%
|align=center]]
[[/div]]

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:blankstyle]]

[[module css]]
:root {
--neuter: 66, 66, 72
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
.lines {
  padding: 4px 16px 4px 16px;
  box-shadow: 0px 0px 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.3);
  margin: auto;
  margin-bottom: 28px;
  margin-top: 28px;
  border: solid 5px #E9FBDF;
}
.ettra_memo {
    width: 66%;
    margin-left: auto;
    margin-right: auto;
    margin-bottom: 24px;
    padding: 10px 20px 20px 20px;
    word-break: break-word;
}
.ics_memo {
    box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.5);
    width: 90%;
    min-height: 4rem;
    margin-left: auto;
    margin-right: auto;
    padding: 10px 20px 20px 20px;
    word-break: break-word;
}
.chaos {
  padding: 4px 16px 4px 16px;
  box-shadow: 0px 0px 3px rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.3);
  width: 85%;
  margin: auto;
  margin-bottom: 28px;
  margin-top: 28px;
  border: solid 5px #FF0000;
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
.inevitablink a{
    color: #ffd700;
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
:root {
--problem: 241, 167, 92
}
[[/module]]

[[module CSS]]
/* anendlessusername's invaluable correction of the ACS octagon! */
#page-content .quadrants > div {
    top: 2.25%;
    left: 18.5%;
}
[[/module]]

[[module CSS]]
:root {
    --timeDelay: 0.5s;
}
[[/module]]

[[div]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
[[=]]
**SCP-8273: "The Severed"**
Home is other people.

[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/8273.png]]

**[[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/this-page-intentionally-left-blank|More by this author!]]]**
[[/=]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="sidebox"]]
[[=]]
__**TABLE OF CONTENTS**__
[#anchor-conprocs Special Containment Procedures]
[#anchor-description Description]
[#anchor-1 Addendum 8273-1]
[#anchor-2 Addendum 8273-2]
[#anchor-gyrus AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED]
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

[[div]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source

|item-number= SCP-8273
|clearance= 5
|container-class= esoteric
|secondary-class= terminarch
|secondary-icon= https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/terminarch-icon.svg
|disruption-class= none
|risk-class= caution
]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:acs-peppo-split
|object= euclid
|object-image= https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/component%3Aanomaly-class-bar/euclid-icon.svg
|object-color= euclid
|esoteric-color= problem
]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:customizable-acs
|disruption-class= none
|disruption-image= https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-5729/none-icon.svg
|disruption-color= 66, 66, 72
|inc-disruption= --]]]
[[module css]]
.anom-bar-container.danger .danger-diamond > .quadrants > .right-quad {
 background-color:rgba(255,109,0,0.25);
 background-color: rgb(255,109,0,0.25);
[[/module]]
[[/div]]

----

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Ibanez_Page.jpg|
    caption=Site-43 Pursuit and Suppression Chief D. Ibanez, SCP-8273. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

[[# anchor-conprocs]]

**Special Containment Procedures:** None required. The only known anomalous aspect of SCP-8273 is her existence, which is unattested beyond the Veil of Normalcy save for government records fabricated by the SCP Foundation.

----

[[# anchor-description]]

**Description:** SCP-8273 is Site-43 Chief of Pursuit and Suppression Delfina M. Ibanez. She is a baseline human female presently forty-six years of age, standing 125 centimetres (4'1") in height. Her physical health and fitness are unusually high for her biological age, as a combination of intensive personal training and advanced Foundation medical care; resultantly, her apparent age is no higher than thirty-five.

SCP-8273 originates in FP-15, the defunct village of Zevala, Argentine Republic. FP-15 was neutralized in a conflict between the SCP Foundation and GoI-003 (the "Chaos Insurgency") in 1994. The existence of FP-15 was, and remains, unknown to the Government of Argentina. It functioned as a //de facto// anomalous free port, though on a very small scale, for at least one hundred years before its destruction, during which time it was also unknown to the Foundation. The circumstances of its destruction are complex, and contested; for further details, see Addendum 8273-1.

The following is an abstract of SCP-8273's history as a security asset of the SCP Foundation.

[[div style="border:solid 1px #999999; background:#F7D3D3; padding-left:12px; padding-right:12px; padding-top:6px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
[[=]]
++ **Career Record -- Delfina M. Ibanez**
[[/=]]

[[f>image http://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-5056/PS.png]]

Delfina Ibanez has worked security at Research and Containment Site-43 since 1996. By 2002 she was Chief of Security and Containment; in 2015 she became Chief of Pursuit and Suppression, Site-43's Mobile Task Forces commander. Career highlights include, but are not limited to:
* annual performance of containment duties for [[[SCP-5243]]]: a recurrent anomalous materials disaster at Site-43 capable of retroactively restructuring the local timeline when incorrectly contained;
* amelioration of the effects of SCP-001 [DECLASSIFICATION PENDING]: a pair of humanoids exercising nebulous control over the concepts of 'order' and 'chaos', respectively, and the breakdown of local reality associated with their continued existence;
* proactive defence against GoI-5054: the //giftschreiber,// a cult of anarchic cryptomancers presently at war with the Foundation and associated with SCP-001-A, the "Uncontained";
* proactive defence against GoI-6382: the //schriftsteller,// a cult of autocratic cryptomancers presently at war with the Foundation and associated with SCP-001-B, the "Unyielding";
* harassment of GoI-003: the Chaos Insurgency, a global paraterror group;
* capture and successful containment of Fowke-627 ("Polkaroo"), culminating a fifty-year cross-department operation;
* participation in the global sting now known as [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/the-time-after-time-password-hub | Operation HAPPY HYDRA]]];
* advancing Foundation efforts to halt [[[SCP-6500]]]: a Finis-class event representing the decline and, presumably, eventual collapse of all known anomalous phenomena;
* inaugurating diplomacy with FP-09: the City of Aph, populated by a refugee race of thaumaturges originating in a now-dead universe and capable of manipulating particulate matter; the most notable member of this race is Dr. Udo Okorie, [[[SCP-8141]]], presently one of Chief Ibanez's two registered spouses.
[[/div]]

As the holotype of an entire homo sapiens sapiens subset, Chief Ibanez has been designated SCP-8273 with no qualifier, while the SCP-8273-# designation is reserved for further instances of the SCP-8273 type. As none have been located in the three decades since her discovery, Chief Ibanez is assumed to be the last of her kind.

----

[[# anchor-1]]

**Addendum 8273-1, Destruction of FP-15:** The SCP Foundation first learned of the existence of FP-15 in the weeks immediately preceding its erasure from baseline reality. The engagements which followed have retroactively been termed Operation TAILWIND KITE, an overview of which is appended below.

[[table style="border-collapse:collapse; width:700px"]]

[[row]]

[[hcell style="border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;" colspan="2"]]
++ Operation TAILWIND KITE
[[/hcell]]

[[/row]]

[[row]]

[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; width:50%"]]
**Date:** 
4 June --  29 June, 1994
[[/cell]]

[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; width:50%"]]
**Location:** 
Caleta San Roque, Chubut Province, Argentina
[[/cell]]

[[/row]]

[[row]]

[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**Nature:** 
Armed engagement
[[/cell]]

[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center; "]]
**Result:** 
Indeterminate
[[/cell]]

[[/row]]

[[row]]
[[hcell style="border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;" colspan="2"]]
Belligerents:
[[/hcell]]

[[/row]]

[[row]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**__SCP Foundation__**
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**__Chaos Insurgency__**
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**MTF Delta-4 ("Minutemen")**
16 casualties
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
Casualties unknown
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**MTF Dseda-8 ("Desperta Ferro")**
11 casualties
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**MTF Sigma-9 ("Valkyries")**
24 casualties
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[row]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
**MTF Xi-13 ("Sequere Nos")**
19 casualties
[[/cell]]
[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center;"]]
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]

[[row]]

[[hcell style="border: 1px solid black; background-color: #F5D8E0; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;" colspan="2"]]
Operational Overview:
[[/hcell]]
[[/row]]

[[row]]

[[cell style="border: 1px solid black; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px;" colspan="2"]]
At approximately 0800 hours on 4 June 1994, covert surveillance of three commandeered C-17 Globemaster III transport aircraft from three different Chaos Insurgency Firebases enabled the triangulation of their apparent destination in coastal Argentina: a small, undeveloped inlet with a rocky shoreline on the Argentine Sea. An escort force of three MiG-23s, one for each transport, launched at approximately 0815 hours.

First responders were Mobile Task Force Dseda-8, operating out of Site-34. Operatives set up artillery emplacements on a rocky plateau encircling the site, and began exploration of the interior. Satellite imagery described a series of ragged hills and gullies leading to the bay, which proved accurate; it also described a denuded terrain of orange stone, which did not. Once beyond the plateau, operatives discovered a heavily forested landscape climatically out of place in the surrounding environment and invisible to outside observers. They focused on clearing vegetation and setting up abseiling/jumaring points to improve mobility for themselves and subsequent responders.

MTF Sigma-9 launched at approximately 0830 hours in anticipation of aerial combat with Insurgency assets.

By 0900 hours, MTF Delta-4 were on-site and assisting Dseda-8 with securing ground access. Task Forces Command determined that approach by sea would not be attempted, owing to the apparent discontinuities in topography and the probability of entering into an ambush. At this time the first Insurgency assets had reached their intended destination; they disappeared from satellite imagery, with one of the escorts reappearing as its course took it back out of the affected zone, and it began to patrol the perimeter. This necessitated action on the part of Sigma-9, and the patrolling craft was destroyed.

According to agents on the ground, antipersonnel bombardment began almost immediately and parachutists could be seen, presumably deploying from the Globemasters. Though several targets of opportunity were identified by Dseda-8 snipers and neutralized, the majority of these aerially inserting Insurgents were able to make landfall due to high winds and poor visibility from the ground. Several landed beyond the mountainous enclosure, and began engaging Dseda-8 and Delta-4 in pitched battle.

At approximately 0930 hours, Sigma-9 had arrived in the apparent pocket dimension enclosing Caleta San Roque. Though clear skies and an empty circle of rocky cliffs were visible before entering, they were immediately confronted with a scene of absolute carnage. The landscape of the area was subtly different, having apparently been worked by human hands and traffic over a long period of time, carving out space for a village encircling the bay which was now largely on fire and/or bombed-out. Signs of long-term occupation by Insurgency forces could be seen, including trench systems, bunkers, and artillery emplacements. Combat with Insurgent aerial assets began immediately, while manned anti-aircraft turrets were airdropped to strategic locations to provide support.

At this time a squadron of seven MiG-21 aircraft deployed to the site from an unknown launching location, and began engaging Sigma-9.

The aerial component of the battle was a decisive Foundation victory within the first half hour of engagement, with six Insurgent aircraft downed at a loss of only one member of the Valkyrie unit. Two of the Insurgency's three bombers were taken out of commission, relieving the village from the worst of its bombardment. Combat on the periphery of the anomalous zone was fiercer, with more casualties, but the tide was nevertheless also turning in the Foundation's favor when the terms of engagement suddenly changed. The Valkyries had swung out of the pocket dimension in order to achieve a better vector for attack; on swinging back around, Valkyries 2 and 4 impacted an invisible obstacle in mid-air and were completely destroyed. The remaining squad members pulled up in time to avoid destruction. In the ground theatre, Insurgent reinforcements ceased arriving and those who had already emerged from the anomalous zone were swiftly dispatched by Xi-13 and Delta-4.

When it became apparent that Caleta San Roque was no longer accessible by land, sea, or air, Foundation forces retrenched and began setting up forward operating bases in order to monitor the situation. The status of the apparent shield was tested by timed bombardment over the course of the following three and a half weeks, while Foundation thaumaturges and ontokinetics attempted to dispel it without effect.

At approximately 1700 hours on 29 June, satellite surveillance detected an unprecedented mobilization of Chaos Insurgency aerial assets converging on Caleta San Roque. The shield was subsequently found to have dissipated, and all involved taskforces immediately re-entered the scene. The village was now in a state of advanced disrepair, including those Insurgency emplacements not destroyed during the initial assault. A single individual in powered infantry armour was seen engaging the Insurgents, with a high degree of success; her actions on the ground enabled Sigma-9 to achieve a concentrated rout with only light additional casualties, and by mid-afternoon all surviving Insurgents were in active retreat. 

At 1832 hours, the village disappeared.

Every standing structure, including those constructed by the Insurgency, as well as the wreck of a cargo ship in the bay and the pier it had been moored at, vanished in the same instant. The only remnant of the battle was the individual in powered armour who was found washed up on the beach, unconscious. Her suit's internal systems had been damaged by submersion in salt water, and its data was found to be irrecoverable. The individual herself was remanded to Site-34 for identification and debriefing.

During the intake process, it was determined the individual was suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress. She would only provide her name -- Delfina Ibanez -- to the intake officers at Site-34. This information was uploaded to SCiPnet, where it triggered a priority flag for Director V.L. Scout of Site-43 in Canada. Director Scout claimed jurisdiction over the file, and arrived the following day via MTF Epsilon-43 ("Day Trippers") escort.

This marked the effective end of Operation TAILWIND KITE.
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

The disappearance of FP-15 was total, including even the local vegetation. A portion of soil beneath the foundations of each structure was also removed. Whatever anomalous properties occluded the bay while it was occupied have dissipated; the only remaining curiosity is that the waters of the Argentine Sea do not mix violently with those of Caleta San Roque, such that the inlet remains still at all times. Vegetation regrowth is very slow, and the region is shunned by most fauna. In practical terms, the former site of Zevala is dead.

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/emptybay.jpg|
    caption=Caleta San Roque, 2024. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

The purpose of the Chaos Insurgency's occupation of Zevala remains unknown, though seemingly arbitrary and illogical actions have been the norm for said Group of Interest since a major organizational overhaul and mission alteration in the mid-1990s; this is believed to have been instigated by an internal coup of some kind. In place of the original corps of [EXPUNGED] from [EXPUNGED] a machine cult was instituted, dedicated to carrying out the prophetic instructions of a device known only as "The Engine," as interpreted by the new Delta Command and its figurehead, the Engineer. Given the lack of internal Insurgency documentation, due to institutional paranoia, no explanation which accounts for all of these changes has ever been mooted; given the [[[scp-7000 | events in Carnley Harbour]]] in 2023, it is likely none ever will be. 

Given the totality of its erasure, the lack of any additional context in the succeeding thirty years, and the failure of Foundation remote viewers and mediums to contact any surviving residents of Zevala (minus SCP-8273 herself), the Department of Ontokinetics has ruled that FP-15 should be considered neutralized as the result of an eigenweapon deployment of unknown origin.

----

[[# anchor-2]]

**Addendum 8273-2, Field Emanations:** As a prelude to closing and archiving the SCP-8273 file, Chief Ibanez commissioned Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas to prepare the following report on the subject of her personal field emanations ('aura').[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Dr. Astrauskas is a Class-2 ("Adept") Type Blue specializing in auramancy.[[/span]]

[[div class="lines"]]
[[=]]
++ Auramantic Assessment: 
++ Chief Delfina Ibanez
[[/=]]

----

[[=]]
**Prepared by Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas, Site-43**
[[/=]]

----

**Conflict of Interest Statement:** The subject of this assessment is one of two individuals with which I am personally romantically involved.

Attached below is a telesomnic impression of my aurascopic reading of Chief Delfina Ibanez on 6 January 2024, alongside my diagrammatic interpretation of the elements visible therein and their approximate configurations.

----

[[include component:image-block
    name=https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Ibanez_Aura.jpg|
    caption= Telesomnic representation of subject's field emissions (left) and expert interpretation (right). |
    align=center|
    width=700px
]]

__**Element Key**__

**Baseline Elements:**
Vigour Band (blue)
Emotion Band (red)
Psychic Band (yellow)
Hume Spirals (green)
Intent Bloom (red-orange-yellow band orbital occlusion)

----

Chief Ibanez's Vigour Band is disproportionately scaled, consistent with my observations re: her energy level and stamina. Her Emotion Band is even more prominently outsized, a peculiarity which wanes only marginally during unconsciousness; see subject's psychological record with Dr. Nhung Ngo for further information. The apparent extrusion of her Emotion and Psychic Bands across the middle cranium in telesomnic imagery is actually her Intent Bloom; subject refused to close her eyes for the reading, and as a result her personal feelings re: the reading itself are on full display.

On the matter of anomalies: Chief Ibanez's Hume Spirals exhibit a mild declension, typically indicative of extradimensional origin. Furthermore, there are breaks in each spiral with no apparent cause, a phenomenon I have not witnessed in any other reading of this kind. However, data on file with the Temporal Anomalies Department -- classified Level 6: Cosmic Top Secret -- indicates that although Chief Ibanez exists as a result of anomalous circumstances, she is confirmed as originating from baseline reality. In light of this verdict, I am unable to speculate further.
[[/div]]

Per the above, any expenditure of resources on the question of SCP-8273 is contraindicated. As all Site-43 personnel are presently acting under the auspices of Protocol GYRUS, this file has been deemed a matter of no concern and no further investigation will be attempted.

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[[# anchor-gyrus]]

[[div class="ettra_memo"]]
[[=]]
+ PROTOCOL GYRUS
[[=image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/scp-8141/Protocol_Gyrus_Final.png]]
++ CLEARANCE ACKNOWLEDGED
++ ACCESS AUTHORIZED

**Accessing compartmentalized addenda re: additional context + further investigation, SCP-8273**
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

@@ @@

[[# anchor-3]]

[[div class="anchor"]]
[[div class="sidebox"]]
[[=]]
__**TABLE OF CONTENTS**__
[#anchor-conprocs Special Containment Procedures]
[#anchor-description Description]
[#anchor-1 Addendum 8273-1]
[#anchor-2 Addendum 8273-2]
[#anchor-3 Addendum 8273-3]
[#anchor-4 Addendum 8273-4]
[#anchor-5 Addendum 8273-5]
[#anchor-6 Addendum 8273-6]
[#anchor-7 Addendum 8273-7]
[#anchor-8 Addendum 8273-8]
[#anchor-9 Addendum 8273-9]
[#anchor-10 Addendum 8273-10]
[#anchor-11 Addendum 8273-11]
[#anchor-12 Addendum 8273-12]
[#anchor-13 Addendum 8273-13]
[#anchor-14 Addendum 8273-14]
[#anchor-15 Addendum 8273-15]
[#anchor-16 Addendum 8273-16]
[#anchor-17 Addendum 8273-17]
[[/=]]
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

**Addendum 8273-3, Intake Interview:** The following is an excerpt from SCP-8273's intake interview, conducted by Site-43 Director V.L. Scout between 1 and 2 July. Subject was judged to be seventeen years of age. She briefly outlined the circumstances of her arrival in Foundation custody: she had been a resident of the village of Zevala when it was attacked and occupied by the Chaos Insurgency in early January of 1994. She engaged in a campaign of [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/34-the-cruelest-fight | guerilla]]] [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/35-fire-in-the-hole | warfare]]] against the Insurgents as they conducted unspecified construction projects and imprisoned the local population, activities briefly and then permanently interrupted by the Foundation's interventions on 4 and 29 June. An excerpt from the remainder of Dr. Scout's interrogation is appended below.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Excerpts begin.>//

//<SCP-8273 is seated at a steel table in a bare containment chamber. She is wearing a detainee jumpsuit. Her hair is cropped short in a manner suggesting she performed the act herself, and there are minor abrasions on her face and hands. Dr. Scout is seated across from her. A tape recorder sits on the table between them, next to his fedora.>//

//<SCP-8273 is facing away from Dr. Scout. She does not make eye contact as she answers his questions.>//

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Interrogation.jpg|
    caption=SCP-8273 and Dr. Scout. |
    width=500px|
    align=center|
]]

//<Interrogation has been ongoing for approximately nine minutes as this transcript begins.>//

**Dr. Scout:** Tell me about your village's culture. 

//<SCP-8273's voice is flat and without affect as she responds.>//

**SCP-8273:** What.

**Dr. Scout:** Cultural practices. The things that mattered to you. 

**SCP-8273:** Mattered. 

**Dr. Scout:** That's right. 

**SCP-8273:** Past tense. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

**SCP-8273:** Because they're all dead. 

**Dr. Scout:** Be that as it may, I would like to know what sort of people they once were. 

**SCP-8273:** Living people. 

**Dr. Scout:** Commemoration is a kind of immortality. 

**SCP-8273:** Lousy kind. 

**Dr. Scout:** I know you don't want to talk about them--

//<SCP-8273 shifts in her seat to make eye contact with Dr. Scout.>//

**SCP-8273:** But you're still asking. And you'll keep asking until you get something you think is useful, but I don't know what that looks like, and I don't know if I care.

//<She narrows her eyes.>//

**SCP-8273:** I think I don't care.

**Dr. Scout:** Just tell me the first thing you remember. Whatever comes to mind. Rituals. Festivals. 

//<SCP-8273 closes her eyes. Several seconds pass.>//

**SCP-8273:** Rituals.

**Dr. Scout:** That's right.

**SCP-8273:** Visions. Perfect visions.

**Dr. Scout:** That sounds interesting.

**SCP-8273:** I never thought so.

**Dr. Scout:** Who had the visions?

**SCP-8273:** The women. It was before I was born. One of the elders told me about it. She wasn't supposed to, but she was sick. Thought I was her sister.

**Dr. Scout:** What sorts of things did they see?

**SCP-8273:** Future things. Things that had to come true. Fat lot of good that did anybody.

**Dr. Scout:** What else do you remember?

//<SCP-8273 rolls her eyes, and grits her teeth.>//

**Dr. Scout:** We don't have to do this all at--

**SCP-8273:** Festivals, you said. 

**Dr. Scout:** Yes? 

**SCP-8273:** Twice a year. When the clocks changed. 

**Dr. Scout:** You had Daylight Savings Time? 

//<SCP-8273 shakes her head.>//

**SCP-8273:** We had when the clocks change. All the adults would go down to the beach, and all us k--... They'd make us stay inside. 

**Dr. Scout:** Why? 

//<SCP-8273 opens her eyes.>//

**SCP-8273:** Because when they went down to the beach, the sky changed colour. 

**Dr. Scout:** Really. 

**SCP-8273:** Yellow. Red. Green. Never blue. And the sounds outside were different. 

**Dr. Scout:** Different how? 

//<SCP-8273's voice is now entirely without affect, having the character of recitation.>//[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Site-34 medical staff concluded subject's depersonalization in these interviews represented an attempt to circumvent her own post-traumatic stress.[[/span]]

**SCP-8273:** Hoots and growls. Bugs that didn't sound right. Wind that seemed to be saying something. Fistfuls of ice falling from the sky. I can still hear them hammering on the roof. 

//<SCP-8273 briefly appears to smile. The expression fades almost instantly.>//

**SCP-8273:** Like shrapnel. 

**Dr. Scout:** What do you think they were doing? The adults? 

**SCP-8273:** I don't know. I... did go outside. Once. 

**Dr. Scout:** Yes? 

//<SCP-8273 looks up at the ceiling, directly into the camera. Her pupils are dilated.>//

**SCP-8273:** They always left someone to watch us, keep us from going outside. One time they left old man Lobo. He was a drunk, but they thought he was getting better. They were wrong. 

**Dr. Scout:** So you slipped out. 

**SCP-8273:** Yeah. 

**Dr. Scout:** And what did you see? 

**SCP-8273:** Nothing. 

**Dr. Scout:** Nothing had changed? 

**SCP-8273:** I saw nothing. Big black nothing. And then it turned into something else...

**Dr. Scout:** What? 

//<SCP-8273 looks back at Dr. Scout.>//

**SCP-8273:** I can't remember. 

**Dr. Scout:** Hmm.

**SCP-8273:** You don't believe me.

**Dr. Scout:** Of course I believe you. I'm just never a fan of missing time, missing space, or missing memories. 

**SCP-8273:** I don't like missing things either. So how about you and I put this behind us? 

**Dr. Scout:** I'm going to need to keep asking you questions, Delfina. I'm sorry about that. 

//<SCP-8273's lip curls.>//

**SCP-8273:** Ask me something I won't care about. 

**Dr. Scout:** That's only fair. Do you care about the suit? 

**SCP-8273:** I want it back. Feels like I earned it. 

**Dr. Scout:** I won't disagree, but I can't make any promises. 

**SCP-8273:** Meaning you've already taken it to bits. 

**Dr. Scout:** Not personally, but most probably. Where did you get it? 

**SCP-8273:** Inside the big building, I guess. 

**Dr. Scout:** You guess? 

**SCP-8273:** I don't...

//<SCP-8273 scowls.>//

**SCP-8273:** I don't remember. I have a really fuzzy idea of what I did in there, full of holes. I know I did a lot of training, and then I found the suit. I don't remember putting it on. But I remember standing outside the front door, and the targeting system coming on. And I remember everything after that. 

//<She suddenly stands up.>//

**SCP-8273:** You took my memories.

//<The door behind Dr. Scout opens, and an armed guard enters the room. Dr. Scout raises a hand over his shoulder, gesturing. SCP-8273 does not move, though her hands are now balled. The guard waits several seconds, then withdraws. The door closes again.>//

**Dr. Scout:** We did nothing of the sort.

**SCP-8273:** Then why can't I remember?

**Dr. Scout:** The trauma, perhaps.

//<SCP-8273 snorts.>//

**SCP-8273:** You don't know anything about trauma.

//<Dr. Scout gestures at the empty chair.>//

**Dr. Scout:** So please, help me to understand.

//<SCP-8273 sits down, hard, and crosses her arms in front of her stomach.>//

**Dr. Scout:** You made quite a mess of the Insurgency. 

**SCP-8273:** They started it. 

**Dr. Scout:** You fought like a trained soldier. 

**SCP-8273:** I finished it. 

**Dr. Scout:** You've explained your guerilla campaign against them. But if you'll forgive me, I'm not sure those skills transfer easily to the operation of para-military hardware. 

**SCP-8273:** Couldn't tell you. It's all gone.

//<SCP-8273 looks to one side.>//

**SCP-8273:** Like everything else.

**Dr. Scout:** Not everything.

//<SCP-8273 makes eye contact again. Her eyes are wide.>//

**SCP-8273:** Are they still out there? 

**Dr. Scout:** Your people? We don't--

//<Her voice is stronger now.>//

**SCP-8273:** No. The Insurgency. 

**Dr. Scout:** Yes. The Insurgency is very much still out there. 

**SCP-8273:** Scales need balancing. 

**Dr. Scout:** Revenge is a hollow pursuit. 

**SCP-8273:** Perfect fit.

//<Dr. Scout picks up his hat, and runs a finger along the band.>//

**Dr. Scout:** How did your people stay concealed for so long?

//<SCP-8273 shrugs.>//

**SCP-8273:** I didn't know we were. So I never thought about it. 

**Dr. Scout:** Think about it now, please. 

//<SCP-8273 slams a fist on the table. Dr. Scout raises his hand again; the door does not open.>//

**SCP-8273:** Stop saying please. You don't mean it. 

**Dr. Scout:** I do mean it. But I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable. 

**SCP-8273:** Pretending I have a say in any of this is what makes me uncomfortable. 

**Dr. Scout:** Miss Ibanez, I am here to learn whatever you can tell me. But I am not here to rip that knowledge from you. 

**SCP-8273:** But you will, right, if I don't cave. 

**Dr. Scout:** What's the point in theorizing about events that will never come to pass? 

//<SCP-8273 sighs in frustration.>//

**SCP-8273:** You sound like my grandmother. 

**Dr. Scout:** Well. My name is Vivian. 

//<SCP-8273's mouth twitches.>//

**Dr. Scout:** Have you been thinking about it? While we stall? 

**SCP-8273:** Yeah. 

**Dr. Scout:** And? 

**SCP-8273:** Nobody ever left the village. Ever. 

**Dr. Scout:** I see. Did anyone ever want to? 

**SCP-8273:** I wanted to. 

**Dr. Scout:** Why didn't you? 

**SCP-8273:** I...

//<SCP-8273 moves her mouth wordlessly for several seconds. Her eyes narrow.>//

//<Dr. Scout deactivates the tape recorder and orders the camera feed terminated.>//

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<Intake interview begins again the following day. Both the subject and Dr. Scout have resumed their prior positions.>//

**Dr. Scout:** How did you sleep?

**SCP-8273:** Your drugs. 

//<SCP-8273 makes a rolling gesture with her hands.>//

**Dr. Scout:** Very well. We'll pick up where we left off. Why didn't you attempt to leave Zevala?

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Map.jpg|
    caption=Reconstruction of Zevala utilizing testimony from SCP-8273 and MTF Sigma-9. Points of interest, west to east: subject's home, lighthouse, town hall, pier, main silo, facility. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

//<SCP-8273 takes a deep breath.>//

**SCP-8273:** I did try. When I was bored, or... I tried. A few times. The cliffs around the village are high, but there's clefts and gullies and whatever. Ways up. But the forest gets thicker, and the //air// gets thicker, and after a while no matter how much I wanted to see what was past the next clearing, I'd get so confused and lost and... homesick, I guess, that I'd end up stumbling back home again eventually. I asked my m--

//<SCP-8273 clears her throat.>//

**SCP-8273:** I was told it was vertigo. 

**Dr. Scout:** I see. 

**SCP-8273:** It wasn't, was it. 

**Dr. Scout:** Not very likely. The cliffs were tall, but not nearly so tall as that. Did all your supplies come in by ship? 

//<SCP-8273 nods.>//

**SCP-8273:** The same ship. The //Northern Reach.// They told me they were smugglers.

**Dr. Scout:** They told you the truth. 

**SCP-8273:** They didn't tell me what the truth means.

**Dr. Scout:** Ah. A smuggler is someone who smuggles.

**SCP-8273:** Wow.

**Dr. Scout:** To smuggle, the act of smuggling--

**SCP-8273:** Stupid words.

**Dr. Scout:** They don't bear much repeating, do they? But the basic meaning is the transportation of contraband. Forbidden items.

**SCP-8273:** What was forbidden?

**Dr. Scout:** Everything they carried. Contraband is subjective. Sometimes it's illegal things taken through legal channels. Sometimes it's legal things taken through illegal channels. The //Northern Reach// was performing the latter act.

**SCP-8273:** Who made it illegal?

**Dr. Scout:** We did. 

**SCP-8273:** And who are you?

**Dr. Scout:** As I told you before, the SCP Foundation.

//<SCP-8273 narrows her eyes.>//

**Dr. Scout:** Does that mean something to you?

**SCP-8273:** Of course not. Does it mean something to //you?//

//<Dr. Scout smiles.>//

**SCP-8273:** Does your secret conspiracy thing have a symbol?

//<Dr. Scout reaches into the breast pocket of his waistcoat, and produces his identification badge. He slides it across the table to SCP-8273, who examines it without picking it up.>//

**SCP-8273:** Yeah. Thought so.

**Dr. Scout:** So you have encountered us before.

**SCP-8273:** Yeah. When you and the other guys blew up everything. The first time.

**Dr. Scout:** Meaning the fourth of June?

**SCP-8273:** I don't know what day it is today.

**Dr. Scout:** July the second.

**SCP-8273:** Not like it matters. But yeah. I saw one of your people, on the ground.

**Dr. Scout:** What did they say?

**SCP-8273:** They didn't say anything. They fell out of an airplane, and one of the other guys shot them.

//<Dr. Scout nods.>//

**SCP-8273:** Want to hear what I did next?

**Dr. Scout:** I want to hear whatever you want to tell me, Delfina.

//<SCP-8273 grunts.>//

**SCP-8273:** No. You keep the ball rolling. Come on.

**Dr. Scout:** These next questions are going to be hard. 

**SCP-8273:** I don't care. 

**Dr. Scout:** How many of the villagers can you account for? Their fates?

//<SCP-8273 examines the table.>//

**SCP-8273:** I don't know. A lot. 

//<She shrugs, then shrugs again.>//

**SCP-8273:** I saw...

//<She clears her throat.>//

**SCP-8273:** I saw a grain silo. Full. Of bodies. 

**Dr. Scout:** Enough bodies?

**SCP-8273:** No. 

//<SCP-8273 looks up at the ceiling.>//

**SCP-8273:** But we had more than one silo.

**Dr. Scout:** Were there any villagers still alive when you went into the facility? 

//<SCP-8273's voice is strained.>//

**SCP-8273:** Yes. I think so.

**Dr. Scout:** Can you estimate how many? 

**SCP-8273:** No. They were in... I don't know the word.

**Dr. Scout:** Camps? Prisons?

//<SCP-8273 shrugs, and nods.>//

**SCP-8273:** Sure. I couldn't get close. Too many guards. 

//<SCP-8273 bites her lip.>//

**Dr. Scout:** So there were probably still villagers alive when you came back out. 

**SCP-8273:** Maybe. Probably.

**Dr. Scout:** What do you think happened to them? The survivors? 

**SCP-8273:** There weren't any. 

**Dr. Scout:** How do you know? 

//<SCP-8273 suddenly raises her voice.>//

**SCP-8273:** Because none of them would have left me. 

**Dr. Scout:** Maybe they didn't know you were still out there. 

**SCP-8273:** If they didn't know, they wouldn't have left. 

**Dr. Scout:** You sound certain. 

//<SCP-8273 holds Dr. Scout's gaze.>//

**SCP-8273:** I am.

//<Excerpts end.>//
[[/div]]

Dr. Scout appended the following commentary to the complete intake interview:

[[div style="border:solid 1px #999999; background:#E2F4FF; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px;margin-bottom: 16px;"]]
With regard to Delfina Ibanez, I am taken both by awe and by despair. Awe, because never in my life have I seen a young person so perfectly fitted to the task of targeted violence. Despair for the same reason.

The doctors tell me her physical condition defeats their best efforts at explanation. We have only just scratched the surface of military eugenics -- and were it up to me, that abrasion would suffice -- but what we know about building a perfect soldier seems eerily similar to what must have happened to her. It is possible to promote muscle growth, bone density, and other physical characteristics suiting a person to the military lifestyle. It is most efficient to begin this process early in life, although we have rarely had occasion to apply that knowledge in praxis. The Ethics Committee is good enough for that, at least. But unless I miss my guess, Miss Ibanez has been through a rigorous regimen of training and dietary restriction designed to forge her into, if not a weapon, then a machine for wielding them. 

Trained and restricted by whom? If the answer is not merely 'herself'.

At any rate, her normal life has ended. Many of my colleagues and superiors are going to be very cross at me for what I do next. I am acting well outside the bounds of my purview. I have little authority here. But when I return to Site-43, I intend to bring this young woman with me. I have reason to believe we will have need of her skills. And it might do her some good to put them to less tragic use.

Delfina believes Zevala's disappearance to have been its total destruction. She tells me the Insurgency was building something, some vast device requiring copious quantities of materiel and manpower. Perhaps it went wrong. Perhaps it went right, some desperate contingency of the occupiers in the event their rule was successfully challenged. I believe she is correct to some extent, because if not in any great detail, but in general, it answers the most obvious question I have about this terrible calamity: 

What did the Insurgency want with Zevala in the first place? 
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-4]]

**Addendum 8273-4, RxX Incident:** Subsequent to her intake interview, SCP-8273 requested access to a workout space and resources. On Dr. Scout's recommendation, accommodations were made. As the subject began demonstrating her advanced combat training and athletic abilities, the Archives and Revision Section of Site-43 was tasked with assembling as thorough a timeline as possible for the vanished village of Zevala.

References were identified in the private journals of Dom Magnusson, registered owner and captain of the trading vessel //Northern Reach,// located in his abandoned place of residence. These references revealed, as Dr. Scout had surmised, that the vessel facilitated an infrequent and illicit trade between Zevala and the Nexus of Puerto Extraño (Nx-572) in Antarctica -- most notably involving a blue flower known colloquially as "Stranger-in-the-Mist." This data point did not become relevant until 1996, when a whistleblower email from the RxX pharmaceutical company triggered an A&R webcrawler's search parameters.

On 1 April 1996, the Department of Containment received the following whistleblower account from an RxX researcher. The message was sent from the whistleblower's work email to himself with a blind cc to embedded Foundation agent Dr. Owain Cousins, apparently to give the impression he was under the mistaken belief this would anonymize him. The text of the email was addressed to RxX CEO Dr. Orville Cowell, presumably to create the impression that Dr. Cousins had been emailed in error, for plausible deniability.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]The whistleblower himself, on being presented with this explanation, agreed  vociferously that it was correct.[[/span]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
**To:** Me
**From:** Me
**BCC:** O_Cousins@RxX.net

**Subject:** VAGAMENS
----
To Dr. Cowell and Who May It Concern, 

I'm not comfortable sharing my name or title. I know people tend to get in trouble for doing stuff like this. But I have serious questions and anxieties about my job that only you can address. I think there's something funky going on with the medication we're studying down in Recent Acquisitions, Stranger-in-the-Mist; its pathophysiological effects don't make any rational sense, so unless we've discovered a new branch of science and we're using it to make dick pills or whatever the hell this stuff is, or all our equipment is set up to return bonkers results, everything I know about science is wrong. I'm used to being wrong about stuff, but not science. Please look into this matter as soon as you can. 

[[>]]
-- A Concerned Employee 
-- Dr. William W. Wettle, Junior Associate in Recent Acquisitions, Employee #8375
Ask me about the employee betting pool!
[[/>]]
[[/div]]

MTF Tau-51 ("Urban Brawl") subsequently secured the RxX headquarters (and took Dr. Wettle into custody) that same day. Employees were in the midst of a comprehensive effort to shred and burn all documentation, and magnetize all company computer hard disks. This effort was halted with no loss of life, and Archives and Revision began examining the company's records while the Procurement and Liquidation Department arranged for the public sale of RxX to a Foundation dummy corporation.

The A&R investigation revealed that RxX was conducting experiments on Stranger-in-the-Mist, botanical name //Nigella cerritulus,// at the behest of a private investment firm with connections to known Chaos Insurgency agents. 

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Stranger.jpg|
    caption=//N. cerritulus,// RxX stock photograph. |
    width=250px|
    align=right|
]]

Their findings described the plant as possessing strong hallucinogenic properties, with some utility for reducing the psychosis endemic to persons possessing prophetic sight ("seers" or "prophets") as well as potential ontokinetic applications, though only trace references exist to the latter in recoverable data.

A global effort to secure samples of //N. cerritulus// was unsuccessful. A plantation was discovered in Puerto Extraño, but only after it had already been razed by suspected Insurgency agents immediately subsequent to the RxX takeover. Attempts to regrow the crop began immediately, though local informants indicated the plant has a growth cycle approaching twenty years due to the frigid environments in which it thrives.

----

[[# anchor-5]]

**Addendum 8273-5, Training Report:** The following is an excerpt from Dr. Scout's personal musings on the progress of SCP-8273's training as an SCP Foundation security agent.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]This material was recovered from the Director's Complex at Site-43 pending the confirmation of Dr. Scout's successor, Dr. Allan McInnis. A protest against this action by then-Director Elect McInnis is on file with RAISA.[[/span]]

[[div style="border:solid 1px #999999; background:#E2F4FF; padding-left: 16px; padding-right: 16px;margin-bottom: 16px;"]]
She makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

It's not her fault; it's ours. That's what makes the discomfort so keen. We put her in this situation. We are the architects, if not always directly, of the scenario of her life. The Insurgency, the Veil, and matters I dare not speculate on even in these most private of papers, these things are sprung from our own spring. We have turned a child into a murderer.

She is very efficient at murder. She has demonstrated combat abilities far beyond what should be possible for someone of her age and stature. She runs at five metres per second, well above the norm for human athletes half again her height. She can bench press twice her weight. She can hold her breath for nearly five minutes. I have seen her invert her body in midair. I have seen her punch force metrics, and they are sufficient to break concrete. And I have seen, after months of careful testing, the full medical breakdown of why her body allows these things to be true.

Delfina Ibanez is a self-made woman.

Practically every muscle in her body exhibits evidence of repeated injury and re-healing. As do her tendons. As do her ligaments. Her bone marrow shows telltale signs of transplant. The implication is clear: she has been the subject of exceptionally rigorous physical training, gradually building her frail form into something with the average plasticity of human steel. She is in effectively peak condition, and with our assistance, she has maintained this.

Therein, the rub.

I am forced to conclude that our assistance, or assistance from some party very much like us, is responsible for this accomplishment. In brief: Delfina Ibanez had access to a training and treatment regimen indistinguishable from what the Foundation employs for its top level operatives. In unarmed, unarmoured combat, I would not bet against her in a sparring match with a member of the Red Right Hand.

It is somewhat difficult to reconcile this with the fact that before she engaged with the Insurgents on June 29, she was a seventeen year old whose only combat experience was self-taught small-scale guerilla warfare in her local environment. It should go without saying that the changes she has wrought in herself should not have been possible on such an absurdly abbreviated timeframe, outside assistance or not.

I regret that she is unable to reconcile this dilemma for us. I now firmly believe that the circumstances of her transformation are not wholly known even to her. Given the disappearance of Zevala and its putative research facility, they might never become known.

What is certain is this:

Even with the finest equipment and resources possible, and an allowance of time to make use of same, the process of reaching this level of physical fitness and combat skill would repeatedly break the mind and spirit of even the most determined trainee.

I would not like to set myself against a will that could accomplish such a feat, alone.

I would, in other words, very much not wish to be in the Insurgency's jackboots when Delfina Ibanez is finally ready for active duty.

That I was pointed in her direction may be the deciding factor in days far to come.
[[/div]]

The meaning of the final words in this statement is, at present, unknown.

----

[[# anchor-6]]

**Addendum 8273-6, Carnley Harbour Incident and Aftermath:** The LK-Class "Twist of Fate" Probability Failure Scenario previously designated [[[SCP-7000]]] supplied a lengthy series of setbacks to the Chaos Insurgency, resulting in the functional end of its Group of Interest status. The climax of this reduction in force was the complete destruction, by nuclear warhead, of the Hardened Mobile Array: the Insurgency's stealth-enabled modular aircraft assembly, believed to house Delta Command, the Engineer, and the Engine. The Array's remains fell into Carnley Harbour in the Auckland Islands, New Zealand; crash scene investigation revealed machinery with a significant Hume offset, consistent with espionage accounts of the Engine. Also recovered was a small quantity of badly burned plant material consistent with RxX reports on the composition of //N. cerritulus,// and a memorandum fragment with references to "leyline proximity," "subzero temperatures," and "unrivalled access."

No further developments on the subject of SCP-8273 occurred until October of 2023, when the emergence of the [[[scp-8141 | City of Aph]]] presented a possible new vector of investigation. SCP-8273 was by then Chief of Pursuit and Suppression at Site-43 and one of several Foundation officers responsible for executing Protocol GYRUS, with broad discretionary powers. After an interview with Aphora, the Vitreous Queen of Aph, Chief Ibanez requested resources from the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority for a renewed investigation into the fate of the village of Zevala. Authorization was granted, and Chief Ibanez mustered a combined Mobile Task Forces division under the auspices of Operation CICLO.

----

[[# anchor-7]]

**Addendum 8273-7, Operation CICLO:** The following is a transcript of Operation CICLO's 18 January 2024 visit to Caleta San Roque, Argentina, identified as Cala del Ciclo in native Zevalan terms by Chief Ibanez.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Transcript begins.>//

//<A modified Chinook helicopter containing Chief Ibanez, Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas, Dr. Udo Okorie, and multiple agents and support personnel circles the bay. The terrain is partially overgrown, and no structures are visible. The craft begins its landing cycle near the bay's western terminus.>//

//<Chief Ibanez exits the helicopter before it has completely settled. The landscape of the bay is a relatively flat, narrow table with precipitous cliffs going down to the water and up to a considerable height on the other side; the table rises gradually in elevation to the north, then back down again to a beach on the far side of the bay. There is a depression in the ground obviously representing a former trackway, winding along the table and occasionally splitting and reconverging to form large, now empty, enclosures. There are trees along the mountain edge of the table; many are burned and dead.>//

//<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie exit the helicopter behind Chief Ibanez, who has already advanced several metres from the landing site.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Where are we?

**Chief Ibanez:** Nowhere.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Where //would// we be?

//<Chief Ibanez balls her fists, and turns back to the helicopter.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Parra farm.

//<She gestures to the southwest, where the table ends at a meeting of both cliffs and the sea.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** School was over that way.

//<She gestures over her shoulder, to the north, as she re-enters the helicopter.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Everything else in the other direction.

//<Support personnel are now exiting the helicopter from the rear bay, and setting up communications equipment. Chief Ibanez removes a sheathed SCP-6500-SWORD from its mount in the helicopter, and again dismounts. >//
[[/div]]

[[table style="border-collapse:collapse;"]]
[[row]]
[[hcell style="border: 3px solid #FFD700; background-color: #FFD700; padding-left: 12px; padding-right: 12px; padding-top: 6px; padding-bottom: 6px; text-align: center"]]
**SCP-6500-SWORD and PTF Delta-6500 Overview**
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[[=image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/TLE_V8.jpg style="border: 2px solid #14161C"]]
[[div style="padding: -5px; border: 2px solid #14161C; color: #E7E7E7; background-color: #21252E; text-align: center"]]
[[size smaller]]**SCP-6500-SWORD, charged state.**[[/size]]
[[/div]]

The 2021 calendar year of the normalcy community was dominated by [[span class="inevitablink"]][[[SCP-6500]]][[/span]], the near-destruction of all paranature across all linked timelines. A variety of terms have been applied to this event, but the most commonly accepted in the years to follow has been 'the Impasse'. The Impasse was successfully arrested by the SCP Foundation through acquisition and employment of a series of artifacts, SCP-6500-α, identified by an apostate Overseer known as O5-0; the anomalous characteristics of these artifacts, which they retained despite the general die-off, combined to reverse the effects of the Impasse and restore balance to baseline reality. Site-43 Pursuit and Suppression Chief Delfina M. Ibanez was responsible for the [[span class="inevitablink"]][[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6500/offset/1 | discovery and use]]][[/span]] of one such artifact, SCP-6500-SWORD.

SCP-6500-SWORD is an ornate shortsword with a semicircular crossguard, one hundred centimetres in length and weighing one kilogram. Given the projected age of this artifact, its measurements would not be expected to match the modern metric standard to this level of precision; it is furthermore exceedingly light for its size and apparent materials composition. The hilt of the sword is composed primarily of gold and beryllium bronze, according to spectrographic analysis. The blade appears to be composed of silver. As all elements of SCP-6500-SWORD have proven impervious to all forms of damage, counter to the expected ductility of its materials, no more detailed schema can be obtained at this time. The complexity of the hilt and its awkward length in comparison with that of the blade would appear to preclude its use in actual combat situations, but in practice this has not been an issue. Individuals with any form of edged weapon training are capable of wielding SCP-6500-SWORD as though it were a well-balanced and appropriately designed -- if unremarkable -- example of its class. Its most anomalous qualities, however, proceed not from the artifact itself, but from its user.

Through a process still under study by the Department of Containment, its wielder imbues SCP-6500-SWORD with an unidentifiable but visible form of energy which serves as a catalyst for anomalous occurrences in a radius commensurate to the scale of said wielder's actions. In simpler terms, the anomalous is strengthened in proximity to a "powered-up" SCP-6500-SWORD. When empowered in this manner, the blade glows a bright white and has been shown capable of cleaving diamond with ease. Over the course of its initial employment, a faint inscription on the crossguard, "I WILL NOT FADE," became legible as it emitted a fiery red glow. As perhaps might be expected, this glow has not subsequently dimmed. In cases of extreme user activity, SCP-6500-SWORD has been known to generate shockwaves, flame, and bursts of blinding light in contextually-appropriate quantities.

An alternate explanation for the effects of SCP-6500-SWORD, advanced by Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate of Site-87 after a brief but eventful period of field research, is that it taps into pataphysical potentiality to energize moribund narratives. Given that the implications of this theory are functionally identical to those of the more prosaic explanation outlined above, no further pataphysical research has been attempted as of yet; however, given that pataphysical phenomena did not significantly wane during the course of the Impasse, the effects of which were felt most strongly by 'traditional' occult and anomalous entities, locations, objects and events, this alternate source of power may explain why SCP-6500-SWORD remained functional long enough to partially reverse said Impasse.

When first discovered in the Library of [[span class="inevitablink"]][[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-5923 | Kayaköy]]][[/span]] by Site-43 Chief of Pursuit and Suppression Delfina Ibanez, SCP-6500-SWORD's physical appearance was considerably more plain and practical, and its inscription could not be parsed. It evolved to its present form over the course of the Impasse, as Chief Ibanez wielded it in a variety of theatres across the globe in order to restore balance to the Earth's anomalous ecosystems.

The colloquial name of SCP-6500-SWORD, according to O5-0, is "The Leading Edge." As this artifact was proactively employed by the Foundation to reverse the effects of the Impasse, the name, as with its inscription, would appear apropos. For the majority of the crisis, Chief Ibanez wielded SCP-6500-SWORD as commander of Provisional Task Force Delta-6500 ("Magical Mystery Tour"), a group of occult specialists, agents trained in blade combat, and support personnel. Several individuals wielded the blade whilst Chief Ibanez was otherwise occupied, most notably during her brief [[span class="inevitablink"]][[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6500/offset/13 | AWOL excursion]]][[/span]] to the City of Alagadda to rescue Dr. Udo Okorie from the Hanged King; though each was able to employ the artifact to great effect, Chief Ibanez remains by far the most accomplished wielder of SCP-6500-SWORD.

Following the conclusion of the crisis, PTF Delta-6500 was disbanded and SCP-6500-SWORD remanded to Department of Containment custody, with the expectation that it would eventually be employed in reversing a resurgent Impasse. To date, this has not proven necessary.
[[/cell]]
[[/row]]
[[/table]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]

//<A faint white glow from the hilt of SCP-6500-SWORD is visible where it meets the sheathe. Chief Ibanez attaches a harness to the sheathe, then attaches the harness to her uniform and shoulders the covered blade.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Been a long time since I saw that. 

//<Chief Ibanez nods.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Try not to die this time, okay?

**Dr. Okorie:** Didn't really die last time. I just went to the afterlife. 

//<Dr. Astrauskas scans the empty plateau, one hand at her temple to shield her eyes from the glare of sunlight against the bare cliffs.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Could be we're going there again. 

//<Dr. Okorie releases the draw strings on her reagents pouch as Chief Ibanez adjusts SCP-6500-SWORD on her back.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** I'm sure we would have heard if an entire village went to Corbenic. They've got a pretty strict immigration policy. Only one accepted route in. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** And none out. 

//<Chief Ibanez begins walking down the remnant path. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie follow, side by side.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So, what sort of heroic deeds do you have in mind?

**Dr. Okorie:** She fought a whole army of spiders last time. 

//<Chief Ibanez does not respond.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Not the only time she's done that, either.

//<Chief Ibanez grunts.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** A glowing golden sword seems better suited to dragon-slaying.

**Dr. Okorie:** That's what Del said, but no dice. Right, Del?

//<Chief Ibanez grunts again.>//

//<The path ahead winds past several obvious depressions in the ground, overgrown with dark green grass and ground cover foliage. They pass the first of many paths up into the surrounding cliffs; Chief Ibanez pays it no attention.>//

//<The sound of water moving through the bay and against the rocks fills the air. There are no birds, unusual for any stretch of coast at this latitude.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** This place is too peaceful to be harbouring any monsters. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Now. 

//<They proceed in silence for several minutes. Dr. Okorie occasionally glances over her shoulder, to where the remaining members of the// de facto //PTF Delta-6500 are setting up a base camp near the helicopter.>//

//<Dr. Astrauskas reaches out and tugs the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD upward. The blade is still glowing faintly. She releases her grip, and it slides back into its sheathe with a faint clinking sound.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** How are you going to charge it?

**Chief Ibanez:** Had an idea. Talked it over with McDoctorate.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-5242 | SCP-INTEGER-DIGIT instance]]], Clearance Level-4 Foundation researcher with abstracted personal identifiers.[[/span]]

**Dr. Astrauskas:** And? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Don't want to talk about it twice.

//<Chief Ibanez quickens her pace. When the other two follow suit, she quickens her pace further. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie hold back, respectfully, and allow her to lead.>//

//<The path splits, curving around a large depression in the earth.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What was here?

**Chief Ibanez:** Cattle pens.

**Dr. Okorie:** What happened to the cattle?

**Chief Ibanez:** Got replaced.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** By what?

**Chief Ibanez:** Different kind of cattle.

//<The trio are completely silent for the next ten minutes, as the path gradually rises and they pass a second winding canyon cleft.>//

//<Chief Ibanez sighs in frustration, and looks up at the sky.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You're distracting me. 

**Dr. Okorie:** We aren't saying anything. 

**Chief Ibanez:** That's what's distracting me. You two never stop nattering. Especially Roz.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** We don't know what to say. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I was just letting you take it all in. At your own pace.

**Chief Ibanez:** Take what in? There's nothing left. 

**Dr. Okorie:** It's still the landscape where you grew up.

**Chief Ibanez:** It's the landscape where...

//<Chief Ibanez stops, and takes a deep breath.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** It's an empty fucking bay. That's all it is.

//<She steps into a very large octagonal depression in the earth, at the edge of the cliffs, and kicks idly at the dirt.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Can you pick up anything under the ground, Udo? 

//<Dr. Okorie frowns.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Is it alright for me to--

//<Chief Ibanez raises a hand in warning.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Don't make me repeat myself.

**Dr. Okorie:** Okay. I'll take a look. 

//<Dr. Okorie removes a handful of// vim harenae //from her reagents pouch, and sprinkles it onto the path. She raises her right hand, and flexes her fingers. The red grains burrow into the earth, and she closes her eyes.>//[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Dr. Okorie is [[[SCP-8141]]], a Class-4 ("Archmagus") thaumaturge with the primary Talent of remote particle manipulation, aka 'micamancy'.[[/span]]

//<Dr. Astrauskas pulls a radio off her belt, and presses the SEND button.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Delta-6500, be advised: Code 8141.

**Agent Koslova:** Acknowledged.

//<The landscape appears to shift slightly, first in the immediate vicinity, then farther afield, as if a large creature were moving beneath the surface. The entire table begins to ripple, though everything returns to its original topography once the disturbance ceases. Dr. Astrauskas watches as the rising incline bubbles and roils, then settles again.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Jesus.

**Chief Ibanez:** You saw her pull an entire city out of the ground.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It's just not the kind of thing that's ever going to get old.

//<Dr. Okorie opens her eyes.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Anything?

**Dr. Okorie:** Some trace elements. Remnants of burning. Chemical runoff. 

//<She sniffs the air, and frowns.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Something in the air, too, something particulate I can't put my finger on.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm getting a weird vibe, too.

//<Dr. Okorie kneels down, and touches the soil very gently.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** That isn't all. There's... ah...

**Chief Ibanez:** You're going to say bodies. Just say bodies.

**Dr. Okorie:** There's no bodies. The Foundation would have picked them up. But some of this sand...

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah?

**Dr. Okorie:** It's not from here. 

//<Chief Ibanez shakes her head in frustration.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Okay?

**Dr. Okorie:** It's from Aph.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** ...//okay.// Well, that's something. She was telling the truth. 

//<Dr. Okorie stands.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What do you mean?

**Chief Ibanez:** Never mind right now.

//<Dr. Astrauskas squints at Chief Ibanez, then frowns.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** What? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Nothing. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Nothing //nothing.// What are you pulling that face at?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Your vital band, is all.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Dr. Astrauskas is [[[SCP-6721]]], a Class-2 ("Adept") thaumaturge with the primary Talent of field emission detection and interpretation, aka 'auramancy'.[[/span]]

**Chief Ibanez:** What about my vital band? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It's fluctuating. Out past the usual bounds. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Is that normal? 

//<Chief Ibanez's voice takes on a menacing growl.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They wouldn't be past the usual fucking bounds if it was normal, would they? What does it mean? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I dunno. I'll monitor it. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Great. You do that.

//<She turns, and resumes her march along the path. The other two follow at a respectful distance.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** It's so calm. So pretty. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Idyllic.

**Dr. Okorie:** Maybe too much sunlight, though.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Exposed.

**Dr. Okorie:** I can't believe nobody's tried to settle here in the interim.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Presumably we don't let them. Anomalous location.

**Dr. Okorie:** Still. Seems like a great place for a Free Port.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** In a sense, that's what it was. Just unrecognized.

//<Chief Ibanez turns to face them again.>//

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Wives.jpg|
    caption=Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie. |
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]]

**Chief Ibanez:** Guys? What I said earlier?

**Dr. Okorie:** Forget it?

**Chief Ibanez:** Forget it.

//<The trio have reached the point at which the curve of the table begins turning completely to the east. There are many more clefts in the surrounding cliffs now, and a narrow isthmus leading toward the centre of the bay.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Where was your house? 

**Chief Ibanez:** In the past.

//<She walks along the isthmus, and pauses. She takes a deep breath, then kneels down and begins brushing the ground cover away. She taps the soil with her fingertips, nods, and stands up again.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** One of my brothers died here. This shell hole. The shell that made it went straight through him. 

//<Her companions stare at her as she walks to the cliffside, where the recurve forms a tiny sheltered cove, and points at the water.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Found my sister floating there a few months later, big bloody hole in the back of her head.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Probably feels like it was just yesterday.

**Chief Ibanez:** It was almost thirty years ago. It feels like it was almost thirty years ago.

//<She wheels on Dr. Astrauskas, and points an accusing finger.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** If my aura is arguing with me, I don't want to hear about it.

//<Dr. Okorie points.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** The sword's burning brighter.

**Chief Ibanez:** Yep. 

//<Chief Ibanez walks to the end of the isthmus, and looks out over the bay.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Does that mean it's, I don't know, detecting danger or something? 

//<Chief Ibanez snorts.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** What, like in //Zork?// It's too bright out here for grues.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What's //Zork?// I was thinking //The Lord of the Rings.//

**Chief Ibanez:** Never mind. No, it doesn't work that way. It doesn't pick up threats. It picks up //energy.//

**Dr. Okorie:** I kind of hope it doesn't turn out to be useful. 

//<Chief Ibanez turns to face her, frowning.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Why? 

**Dr. Okorie:** You don't feel weird about the sword? Knowing what we know now? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You mean the whole... Band-Aid thing. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Yeah. We only picked up the artifacts because somebody wanted to maintain the status quo. These are miracle treatments.

**Chief Ibanez:** This place is beyond miracles.

//<She turns back to the bay again, and points.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** That's where the pier was. Crocker stood on the end.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Elizabeth Crocker, PoI-001, [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/pickman-blank-proposal/offset/1 | cryptomancer]]] and Chaos Insurgency collaborator.[[/span]] And watched.

//<She shifts her pointing angle slightly to the west.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** There was a ship in port. The //Northern Reach.// It sank in the first big fight, and disappeared along with everything else after the last one.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** That's strange. Why would the ship disappear?

**Chief Ibanez:** Why would anything disappear? 

//<Chief Ibanez slides down the cliffside slightly, and gestures with her chin.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** My sister and I treaded water just over there. Watched her watch us burn.

//<She sighs.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Always thought someday I'd be able to return the favour. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Well, Crocker's still alive. Still [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8443 | at large]]].

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah, but she hasn't got anything worth burning. Takes the fun right out of it.

//<She climbs back up, and begins walking again. Rather than taking the path further along the bay to the right, she turns left again and backtracks to the elbow of the table's arc.>//

//<She stops in front of a large, angular depression in the earth in front of the most prominent cleft in the surrounding cliffs.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What was here?

//<Chief Ibanez attempts to respond, frowns, and clears her throat before attempting again.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** My house. Our house. 

//<She walks to the edge of the depression, but this time does not step down into it. Her toe nudges the foliage, once, and then she steps back.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** All the walls were at funny angles. Metal sheets riveted together. It was fine inside, but from outside it looked like a hovel. All the houses did. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Who built them? 

//<Chief Ibanez shrugs, and walks around the edge of the foundation's outline.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** My grandfather's generation, I always figured. Based on the design of the metal. I did some reading...

//<She grimaces, then reaches up to clutch her temple.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What's wrong? 

**Chief Ibanez:** I gave myself a crash course on engineering in the facility that //isn't// over there anymore. 

//<She waves irritably in the direction of the distant beach.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Everything associated with it is associated with at least one memory the Foundation yanked out of my head when they picked me up. Anyway, that's how I know. How old the shacks were.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Was there anything older? 

**Chief Ibanez:** What, you mean like, wood? Thatched cottages? Stone ruins? Nothing like that. 

**Dr. Okorie:** A village without a past. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Or future.

//<Chief Ibanez looks over her shoulder, and pulls SCP-6500-SWORD out of its sheathe by a few inches. She squints, huffs, and releases it again.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What? 

**Chief Ibanez:** There's one more place we should check out, before we go on.

//<Chief Ibanez walks around the imprint of her house and heads through the cleft, and the other two follow. The trees are thicker here, and although there is a path, it is faint and winding. The ground beneath their feet gradually rises.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Where are we going? I thought the whole village was on the coast.

**Chief Ibanez:** Most of it was. My grandfather lived further inland.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** How come? 

**Chief Ibanez:** He didn't like people. I take after him.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What do you think you'll find there? 

//<Chief Ibanez shrugs, a sour look on her face.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Bad memories and scorched grass. Probably not very much of either, all these years later. 

//<There is a small clearing in the woods, where the rising ground briefly evens out. A few rotting timbers, and some preserved by combustion, are covered in vibrant ivies. The footprint of the shack cannot be easily discerned.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Del, what the hell is going on with the sword?

//<SCP-6500-SWORD is now glowing serenely; the sheathe itself no longer fully blocks the transmission of its light.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Oh, figure it out already. 

//<She heads farther up the pass, which finally reaches the end of the natural cleft. It begins to switchback and wind as it traverses the cliffside, going up.>//

//<There is a landing several minutes and perhaps one hundred feet above the cleft floor. The cliff wall is broken by a yawning cave entrance. Chief Ibanez, breathing deeply, immediately crosses the threshold. The other two follow.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** How deep does this go?

**Chief Ibanez:** I never found out. 

**Dr. Okorie:** We could get flashlights. Hell, I could //make// flashlights.

//<She looks down at the rock floor, at a small black smudge.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Is this where...?

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah. This is where I hid out. We hid out. Yésica and me. 

//<Chief Ibanez blows out a breath.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Then just me. 

//<She walks to the mouth again, and points to a rocky outcropping out of sight from the cave proper.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I did my first dissection just over there.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Dissection? 

**Chief Ibanez:** One thing dead people are really good at is teaching you how to make more dead people. 

//<She turns back to the cave, and the ash still visible on the floor.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Can't believe this is still here. Foundation must have crawled over every inch of this place. Didn't disturb the fire. 

//<She closes her eyes, stretches her muscles, and then in one fluid motion reaches over her shoulder with one hand to remove SCP-6500-SWORD from its sheathe.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So much for the flashlights.

//<The entire cave is immediately illuminated. SCP-6500-SWORD is glowing fiercely.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Did you know this was going to happen, Del?

**Chief Ibanez:** No. And I'm kind of pissed off that it worked, honestly.

//<They blink in the brilliant light.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I guess there's more than one way to be a hero.

//<Chief Ibanez walks to the cave mouth again.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** This wasn't heroism. This was the easy part. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What's the hard part?

//<Chief Ibanez responds over her shoulder.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Couple options. Depends what we see when I walk into the gulch with this thing in my hand.

//<After a moment, the other two follow her.>//

//<The trio walk in silence for the next twenty minutes, descending the cliff face, following the cleft, and resuming their trek along the main bay path. They have reached the northernmost point of the table's arc before Dr. Okorie breaks the silence.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Did you want to talk about any of the rest of this? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Nope. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm sure there's a lot of memories connected to--

**Chief Ibanez:** Sword's charged. Don't care. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** This is probably your last chance to come to peace with what happened here.

**Chief Ibanez:** I don't come to //peace.// 

//<Chief Ibanez brandishes SCP-6500-SWORD at her.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Boy, is that thing getting bright. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Uh-huh.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What happens if it gets too charged? 

**Chief Ibanez:** It doesn't. 

**Dr. Okorie:** It bleeds its energy out into the environment at all times. Stirring up whatever needs stirring. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What if nothing needs stirring? 

**Dr. Okorie:** Apparently, nothing never does. 

//<It takes a further forty-seven minutes to complete the circuit of the bay. Chief Ibanez pauses twice more; once at a large, roughly rectangular depression scarred by ash, and once at a large circular one on the edge of the bay cliffs. Both times she declines to comment.>//

//<The trio reach the beach. Chief Ibanez walks to the water's edge, removes a pair of collapsible binoculars from her belt and watches the distant helicopter across the bay. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie engage in brief, hushed conversation.>//

//<Support personnel from Delta-6500 complete the circuit as well, and begin setting up equipment on the beach. Chief Ibanez shrugs the holster and sheathe off her shoulders, hands her service weapon to a nearby operator, hefts SCP-6500-SWORD, and heads for a wide break in the cliffs to the north. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie follow.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You think this is going to work? 

**Chief Ibanez:** No. 

**Dr. Okorie:** If it doesn't, I can try manipulating the granules. See if there's anything residual in the...

//<She winces as SCP-6500-SWORD flares. The narrow cliff walls to either side of them reflect the light, glowing bright white.>//

//<It takes just over eleven minutes to walk the overgrown route from the beach to a widening of the path, dotted with foliage and fallen stones, where the gulch ends in a sheer rock face.>//

//<Chief Ibanez walks to the centre of the clearing, raises SCP-6500-SWORD over her head, and holds it there.>//

//<SCP-6500-SWORD emits a pulse of light, and then another. Each pulse strikes the surrounding rocks, and they begin to vibrate. A hollow ringing sound fills the air, and then a grinding groan.>//
[[/div]]

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Ibanez_Gulch.jpg|
    caption=Chief Ibanez employing SCP-6500-SWORD. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<An angular outline begins to form on the rock face at the rear of the canyon. As SCP-6500-SWORD continues to pulse, details become visible: concrete detailed to resemble stone, a wide lintel, and a set of broad, steel sliding doors.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Jesus Christ. 

//<The pulses from SCP-6500-SWORD weaken, then taper off entirely. The blade's glow is now very weak. Chief Ibanez lowers it again, and draws a deep breath.>//

//<The missing facility is now present. It shows no sign of wavering again.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** The sword abhors a vacuum.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Change begets change.

**Chief Ibanez:** Trauma is a conga line. 

//<She waits for her equipment to be returned, then gestures at the door.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Let's go.

//<The facility's front doors open when they draw near. They enter into a clean, spacious airlock; the interior doors do not open immediately, and the trio pause before approaching them.>//

//<The words INSTITUTO de CONTENCIÒN SEGURA are printed in bold letters over the lintel.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Instituto de Contenciòn Segura? 

**Chief Ibanez:** It means--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Obviously I know what it means. But, I mean, how? 

**Dr. Okorie:** Could be a precursor. One of the groups that came together to form the Foundation. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Lot of them were real disorganized. Bad record keeping. Some, we're still picking up the pieces decades later. [[[scp-8435 | Lost outposts]]], rogue security systems still plugging away with nobody to defend.

**Dr. Okorie:** Right. So it must be that.

**Chief Ibanez:** Except it also //can't// be. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Because of the suit? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Because of the suit. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Alternate reality, then. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Which makes a certain sense. 

**Chief Ibanez:** A certain nonsense. 

**Dr. Okorie:** What do you mean? 

**Chief Ibanez:** You were going to say it makes a certain sense that this thing is from an alternate dimension, because so are your people, and you think your people and my people are //our// people. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Should I know what you guys are talking about?

**Dr. Okorie:** I don't think of the people you're calling my people //as// my people, Del but other than that, yes. That's right.

**Chief Ibanez:** Only they were all from the same alternate dimension, and they had their big break up in this one. So where does a dimension-hopping Foundation precursor facility fit into that?

//<Dr. Okorie shrugs.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Only one way to find out.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It always feels like telling on ourselves when we say that.

//<Chief Ibanez returns to the exterior doors. They slide open to reveal four members of Delta-6500 in tactical gear, standing at attention.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Guess we should have brought Hammer Down, but that's hindsight, and today's subject is //foresight.// So, eyes forward. Look, but don't touch.

//<The seven members of Delta-6500 approach the interior doors, Chief Ibanez leading.>//

//<The doors close.>//

//<Chief Ibanez walks through the open doors.>//

//<The doors open.>//

//<The agents pause on the far side of the doors.>//

//<The doors close.>//

//<The agents walk through the open doors.>//

//<The hall beyond is an infinitely fractalized series of airlocks.>//

//<The agents exit the facility, backward.>//

//<The hall beyond is a clean, white-tiled corridor. The floor is the ceiling.>//

//<The agents walk through the open ceiling.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Oh no. 

//<The agents walk through the closed ceiling.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** It's like the Breach. 

**Chief Ibanez:** It wasn't like this when I left. Pretty sure. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You left a long time ago. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Or maybe just yesterday. Alright folks, SCRAMBLE and Scranton. And let's get a wire going.

//<Delta-6500 are fitted with SCRAMBLE helmets, personal reality anchors and a double-reinforced tether line before proceeding further.>//

//<As they walk down the halls, brief fluctuations in reality occur before the roaming stabilization fields assert baseline again. Agents occasionally appear to be moving backward, or covering the same ground multiple times, or on one occasion, progressing at an impossible angle relative to the floor. Surrounding signage is all in Spanish, heavily distorted. They pass windowed laboratories, sitting nooks, and at least one vending machine. Everything is in a very poor state of repair, as though abandoned for decades after many more decades of hard use.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I feel like I'm going to run into myself in here. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** But which version of you? 

**Dr. Okorie:** There's only ever one version of you. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Beg to differ. 

//<Further progress is stalled when Delta-6500 turn a corner and discover that the hall beyond has been replaced by a bright orange swamp illuminated with fist-sized fireflies. The door to an office supposedly belonging to one Dr. Alvarez is framed by a pair of oak trees, pulsating with light.>//

//<Chief Ibanez tentatively taps the surface of the water with her boot. The clear ringing of porcelain tile can be heard.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Okay, so. This is bullshit--

**Dr. Okorie:** Who's that?

//<Chief Ibanez draws her service weapon. The other Mobile Task Force members follow suit.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I don't see anybody. 

**Agent Koslova:** I was just surprised that Dr. Okorie didn't.

**Dr. Okorie:** It's just us, Del. Or did you hear something? 

**Chief Ibanez:** I was talking to Udo. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Or the White Rabbits.

**Agent Koslova:** Yeah, alright. Sorry.

**Dr. Okorie:** I don't have the entire list memorized.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Who are you talking to? 

**Agent Koslova:** Obviously //I// know that.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** They handle temporal and spatial anomalies.

**Agent Koslova:** The Angle Grinders?

**Dr. Okorie:** I'm right here. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I think we need to get the Angle Grinders in here.

//<Chief Ibanez raises SCP-6500-1 over her head. A faint glow surrounds the task force members, and time becomes linear again.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Follow me. And zip it.

//<Delta-6500 exit the facility. Reality failures and chronological dilation begin to plague them again as they reach the airlock; SCP-6500-SWORD is no longer glowing at all, and Chief Ibanez sheaths it before kicking the nearest wall in frustration.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Did you experience anything like that before?

**Chief Ibanez:** I think there was something wonky with time, but it can't have been that bad. I got shit //done// in there. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Holy... 

//<She is staring at Chief Ibanez's back. Chief Ibanez turns to face her.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** What? 

//<Dr. Astrauskas walks around Chief Ibanez.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** The aura. 

//<Chief Ibanez turns in place, trying to face Dr. Astrauskas again.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** If you're about to tell me I'm emotionally agitated--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Not //your// aura. I couldn't see it before, because of the glow. I'm talking about the //sword's// aura. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Why does the sword have an aura? 

**Dr. Okorie:** Maybe it's alive? 

//<Chief Ibanez glares over her shoulder at the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** No. I hate that. No.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** More likely it's literally absorbing something from you. 

**Dr. Okorie:** What kind of something? The stuff we already knew about? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Maybe? I feel like I haven't seen protagonistic potentiality turn up in an aura before. And plenty of our co-workers are plenty dynamic.

**Chief Ibanez:** One more question for the pile. And I think I know how to get them all answered at once. 

//<Chief Ibanez sighs.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I really do hate stories, though. 

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-8]]

**Addendum 8273-8, Exploration (Facility):** After emerging from the structure -- identified internally as Facility-34 -- Delta-6500 camped on the Zevalan beach for the night. Due to the high priority of Protocol GYRUS, both MTF Theta-90 ("Angle Grinders") and MTF Lambda-5 ("White Rabbits") were transported to the site by daybreak; Chief Ibanez requested an additional consult, who would arrive the following day. Installation of full-scale Scranton Reality Anchors required several hours of work; by midmorning the Facility was sufficiently restored to baseline that exploration could continue while the remainder was secured.

Chief Ibanez, Dr. Astrauskas and Dr. Okorie each led investigation teams into the Facility interior to determine its contents, meeting back at the entrance hall shortly before noon.

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.jpg|
    caption=Instituto de Contenciòn Segura emblem, Facility-34. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Transcript begins.>//

//<Dr. Okorie is sitting in a red plastic visitor's chair against a dusty, tiled wall. The insignia of the Secure Containment Institute is visible, though faded, on the tiles. Chief Ibanez is pacing; she is wearing an old Foundation-issue bomber jacket, circa 1990s, over her jumpsuit. She did not bring it with her to Caleta San Roque.//>

//<Dr. Astrauskas arrives, clipboard in hand. She waves the clipboard at the other two.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Just got a report from the radiologists. 

//<Chief Ibanez stops pacing.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah? Anything interesting? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Only that this building is about six hundred years old.

**Chief Ibanez:** What?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Yeah. 

**Chief Ibanez:** No, //what?// That's not just weird. That's fucking impossible.

**Dr. Okorie:** All I've got is weird, unfortunately.

**Chief Ibanez:** Well? 

**Dr. Okorie:** Hydroponics. Weird hydroponics. And what looks like a bunch of old demonics circuitry, shorted out.

//<Dr. Astrauskas sits in the chair beside Dr. Okorie's.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** I took a look at the climate controls. The reason it was just a bunch of dirt is that all the plants died. The reason all the plants died? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Don't leave me in suspense. 

**Dr. Okorie:** They got too warm. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** As in, they scorched? Dehydrated?

**Dr. Okorie:** As in they got warm. Room temperature. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** This Facility has what's got to be the world's only hydroponic freezer. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So... you're saying they were growing Stranger-in-the-Mist.

//<Chief Ibanez shakes her head.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** That doesn't make any sense. We traded for that with Puerto Extraño.

**Dr. Okorie:** I don't think it was a very healthy crop. They probably needed to refresh it a lot with plants from outside.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What would they have been doing with the flowers at all, though? On an industrial scale?

**Chief Ibanez:** Visions in bulk? I don't know. 

**Dr. Okorie:** What did you find, Del?

**Chief Ibanez:** A big machine that doesn't work anymore. And the armoury.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Any of those fancy suits still in there?

//<Chief Ibanez nods.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They're all in locked cases. Directorial override. I found the keycard while I was scrounging, and I hid it. Hid it real well.

//<She produces said keycard. There is no name or photograph, only security clearance and position information.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Well, that's definitely a win. What else did you have socked away in here?

**Chief Ibanez:** My journal.

//<She tosses an antiquated personal tape recording device into Dr. Okorie's lap.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You knew where to find it.

**Chief Ibanez:** I did.

**Dr. Okorie:** Did you know before you came back in here?

**Chief Ibanez:** I did not.

//<Dr. Okorie rewinds the tape, and presses the 'Play' button.>//

//<The voice is that of Chief Ibanez, roughly as she sounded after pickup by the Foundation in 1994.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** They're all dead.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** __Remember that__. They're all __dead__.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I can't fix that. But I can do something about it. 

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I don't understand this place at all. 

I can read a lot of their files. The older stuff is mostly in Spanish. The newer stuff is usually English. Somebody took a marker to the oldest stuff, and it's a really magic marker because I'm pretty sure there's nothing underneath anymore. It's technical and blunt. The new stuff is looser. Sometimes handwritten. 

I almost think I recognize the handwriting. 

But what's this place even for? The files don't make sense. It sounds like outsiders came here to watch us, but then ended up giving us the keys to this place and... what? Going away? Why would they do that? 

There's a lot of references to a machine in the lower levels. I don't know what it's for. Maybe it can help me. 

Maybe it's a bomb. 

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** It's not a bomb. 

//<She sighs.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I read some notes. There's supposed to be an operator's manual, but I can't find that. All I can find is what somebody wrote down about what was in it, and that doesn't tell me what the thing actually //does,// just how to make it do it. I switched it on. Nothing exploded. That was disappointing. 

There's a startup sequence. I don't really think I understand it. Feels like I need to know a lot more before I can make this thing work. 

There's a lot of books in here. A lot of stuff on tape, and files on the computers. I'm going to do some reading. 

It's not like there's any rush. 

They're all dead. 

And nobody is coming for me. 

//<Chief Ibanez walks away, back down the hall.>//

//<Dr. Okorie pauses the recording.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Do you want us to--

**Chief Ibanez:** No need.

//<She tenses her shoulders as she walks.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I remember it all, now.

//<Dr. Okorie resumes the recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I don't know how long I've been reading. But I noticed something strange today.

I... haven't been eating. 

At all. 

I haven't used the outhouses. Haven't had a drink of water. 

I took a look at the camera, the exterior camera. 

At first I thought it was a coincidence. It was evening, just like the first time I looked. But no.

Crocker is still out there. Still waiting for my answer. 

Still standing next to my brother's...

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I don't think time passes in here. Not until I look through that camera. 

Maybe it's like that experiment with the cat. I don't know. 

But it's giving me ideas. 

I've got enough science equipment in here to run experiments of my own. 

//<Click on recording.>//

//<Chief Ibanez is now standing at the end of the hall, her back to Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** It's been three months. I've spent almost the whole time tearing everything out of the walls, looking for keycards and hidden doors.

Found some.

I found their training materials. I found their hospital. I found the gym, and the vitamins and supplements. I've been listening to engineering books on tape while I tear my muscles over and over again. 

I think I'd clean up at the Olympics. 

I know how the machine works now. At least, I think I know. I'm going to try and turn it on. 

Maybe it doesn't do anything useful. 

That doesn't really matter. I came in here looking for a weapon, and I found one. 

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I spent this afternoon outside. Outside the Facility. 

Outside //everything.//

I fired up the machine, fed in the flowers, just like it said. I keyed in the first sequence I found in the back of the manual, and I hit the big red button. 

Pretty light show. I threw up.

I checked the exterior camera. 

Pitch black. 

I waited twenty minutes, and when I didn't see anything else, I went to the front door and opened it. 

There really wasn't anything out there. 

Anything at all. 

I almost expected to suffocate, but the air didn't exchange. I could breathe out there just as well as I can breathe in here. 

I came back in eventually, when I got tired of staring at nothing. Reversed the sequence, hit the button. 

I'm here again.

She's still out there. 

I'm going to go through every sequence in the book. 

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** It was just like home. Only empty, and greener. 

I swam in a bay filled with algae and fish I could see through. 

I ate one of the fish for dinner. Caught it with my bare hands, and barbecued it at the front door. I don't think it had ever seen a predator before. 

It's going to be just like that, when I come back. For the last time.

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** When I spend too long outside, something funny happens in my head. 

The stuff I did, I don't remember. I don't remember what I was doing in here, when I'm out there. I don't remember what I did out there, when I get back in here. 

The stuff I learn, that sticks. But I can't picture how I learned it. I've got callouses on my hands, and I don't know how I got them.

I wish my other memories worked the same way.

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** Half of the sequences lead nowhere. The rest lead to places that are... waiting. Waiting to become somewhere. 

They're all shaped like the Cala. Like Zevala, without the village. And they're all different. Sometimes a little. Sometimes a lot. 

Two days ago I went rock climbing in a big, grey, crumbling canyon with a dark red sky overhead.

Yesterday I ran a marathon in a white salt desert.

Today was endurance testing in what looked like nuclear winter. It was so cold.

I don't know where I'm going tomorrow. 

I think the machine's starting to sound strange. Stranger than before. Like maybe something's wrong. 

I think I understand the repair instructions, but they want a lot of stuff I haven't got. Or maybe I do have it, and I just haven't found the right storage room yet. 

Probably not worth chancing. 

I found a suit of armour in the security lockup. I've been practicing with it. 

I know what I'm going to do. 

And when it's done, I'll come back in here, and keep running the sequences. 

Maybe I'll try a few of my own.

Maybe I'll fix the machine before I do that. 

Maybe I won't. 

//<Click on recording.>//

**Ibanez (Recording):** I'm ready. 

The machine caught fire when I got back. I used up a whole fire extinguisher making it stop. It still turns on, but the lights are all red. 

I went into the freezer. Couldn't see my breath anymore. Red lights there, too. 

End of the line.

I left the monitor on all day. Crocker lasted a few hours, then dragged my brother's body off camera. I can see the shadow of movement at the end of the canyon. I know they're still out there. They think they can wait me out.

They think they've got time. 

//<She laughs. The tone is flat.>//

Their time is up. 

//<The tape stops.>//

//<Chief Ibanez returns to Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie. The latter is still holding the recording device, and staring at it in shock. Dr. Astrauskas attempts to speak, but Chief Ibanez cuts her off with a curt gesture.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Roz, did you find anything else?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** No... Del, this tape--

**Chief Ibanez:** We'll get to that. Focus up.

//<Dr. Astrauskas blows out a frustrated breath. Her hands are shaking.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Fine. Okay. I didn't find anything else, but Koslova did. She was tagging after the Angle Grinders, and found the Director's personal log. 

**Chief Ibanez:** What? Where? I'm sure I would have seen that, unless there's doors in here that only open to skinny women with fat knives.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It was in that airlock that opens on stone. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I must have been in there twenty times. For...

//<Chief Ibanez winces, then strikes herself in the side of the head. Both of the doctors instinctively jolt in their chairs, reaching for her before lowering their hands again and frowning.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Reasons. God damn it, it still hurts. I remember, but it //fucking// hurts.

//<She takes a deep breath.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** But I'm sure I wouldn't have missed a thing like that. I was collecting everything important. 

//<Dr. Astrauskas pauses.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I don't think it was in there when you were. 

**Chief Ibanez:** What the hell is that supposed to mean? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Take a look.

//<She removes a data pad from her jacket, and hands it to Chief Ibanez. The pad is an unfamiliar make and model, and the rubber slipcase carries the insignia of the Secure Containment Institute.>//

//<Chief Ibanez begins to read.>//
[[/div]]

[[div class="ics_memo"]]
[[=]]
**Personal Log of J. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**01/09/1994**

----
[[/=]]

We don't know much more about these people now than we did six months ago. They keep to themselves, which is good; we could enforce a curfew, probably, but it's better not to need to. Our resources are over-committed as it is. They answer our questions politely enough, even though half the time the answer is "no", as in "no, I'm not going to tell you about that". One thing is clear: they aren't from around here. Even though almost all of them are obviously Argentinean, and most of them speak Spanish. Their hovels are a whole lot older than makes any sense, and it's completely impossible to trace any of their bloodlines, and no progress has been made on answering the biggest, most brightly burning question: how the hell did they manage to stay hidden for so long? Whatever it was they were doing, they aren't doing it now. They rely on us to hush it all up, which I guess is the price we pay for nosing in. 

The fact is, they're not nearly the strangest or most foreign thing on our soil today. It's starting to look like every corner of South America is haunted, and we're getting reports of potential anomalies in Asia, Europe, and even up north now. A few more years and we might need to think about spreading the net a lot wider. Global coordination. A thicker blanket between civilization and the spooky stuff on the outskirts.

If that happens, I wonder how long we'll be content to let these people keep their secrets.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**06/04/1994**
----
[[/=]]

It's getting rough out there. Caught with our pants down. I'm not sure we can win this thing.

They came to me today, with a confession and a plan. The confession was a lot.

The plan is everything.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**06/29/1994**
----
[[/=]]

They'll all be dead by now. Everybody who isn't in here with me. All gone.

I always thought it would start suddenly, and end the same. Maybe a few hours between the first whimper and the final bang. We'd just started scraping the surface of the world, just barely caught a glimpse of what lies beneath, but we saw enough to know how very outclassed we all were. Too few rowers against too strange a current. It could only ever end one way.

I knew better than to pray for painless, but quick? I thought quick would be assured.

It took decades, //decades,// but we're finally snowed under. We can't hold it back anymore. The entire world will freeze over, or burn, or whatever it is they're trying to accomplish. If we'd had more time, it would have been different. More people. More knowledge.

And that, of course, is why I'm here.

They'll all be dead by now. That's the precondition. If they'd finished up under Yellowstone, we might have had a second option. But they didn't, so we don't. So I put out the call, gathered everyone I could -- neighbors included, since this is really their rodeo -- and now I'm sitting here with one metaphorical finger on that very real, very big red button.

The doors are shut. We've got all the time we need. So I thought I should at least make a record, you know? Put down any metaphors that occurred to me, capture the mood of the moment. I can do it up decently once the dust settles, or find a better writer who can sort out a more fitting epitaph.

My words are spent. I guess it's time to go.

See you on the other side, you sons of bitches.

We'll be ready when you swing back around, mark my words.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**??/??/????**
----
[[/=]]

They're all dead.

For real, this time. My people, the ones who were going to make it. They trusted me, and that turned out to be just another in our long line of mistakes. The exchangers didn't work. They weren't prepared for the shift. There's a corpse in every corner now, blood leaking out of their ears. I'm the only one who survived.

You wouldn't think a hundred dead would be so bad after six billion. But I knew these people, so it matters more. Isn't that disgusting?

Maybe I can find a way to breed that sort of tribalism out of us. Lord knows I've got the time, now.

Only I don't, do I? I'm young, but I'm not getting any younger. I need to get moving, but I'm afraid to open those doors. I don't even know what this part of the world is like, in this period. Are there other people around? Will I be able to explain what I need, to them? Will we even speak the same language?

I had people who knew these things. I should have talked to them more often.

What I do have is The Severed. Not a single one of them failed to make the passage. Their leader reminds me her ancestors have done it before; that's how they helped us to make the machine, after all. She tells me she can still help, they all can. She assures me there will be continuity.

I don't care about continuity.

At this price, I demand __change__.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**~1500**
----
[[/=]]

At some point, everyone thinks about what they'd do with a second chance. What they'd do differently. What mistakes they'd avoid. What ones they wouldn't. It's always stuff like "I'd make my mom quit smoking", or "I'd get diagnosed sooner", or "I'd handle that relationship better". But nobody ever has to put those plans into place, because there are no second chances. Nobody ever comes up against the fact that you don't just get to improve this thing, or that thing, or the other, you have to relive //everything in between// as well, and get it right too. That would be a hell of a program to have to code. Making it work as a fallible human being? Completely ridiculous. That's why the whole thing can never be anything but a hypothetical.

And yet, here I am. At square one. With the whole sorry mess both behind and ahead of me. The vaguest sense of what went wrong, and an even vaguer idea of how I might help set it right. Potential allies, all of them dealing with a similar sort of loss. But at least they have a road map, and maybe we have each other. I don't know.

I think I'm going to spend a week or two losing my mind, first. As a palate cleanser.

I hoped I'd remember more.

It's all just flashes and intimation. I can gather a lot from what I wrote, but I didn't write a lot.

Maybe it will be enough.

But for who?

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**02/13/1867**
----
[[/=]]

I'm dying.

But it doesn't matter. The legacy is secure.

We gave him everything, in the end. For his part, he gave us a lot. It was an equitable trade, considering the circumstances, and I trust him to make the most of it. There's a long, long road ahead, but he will know -- our children will know -- what's waiting for them at the end. If not the specifics, then the general gist.

And they'll know it's their job to stop it.

We can't stay in here. The cracks are showing. Not wide, yet, but wide enough some day to swallow us all up. The bay will suffice, until it's time to move again.

Maybe it won't ever be time. That would be lovely.

But I'll never know.

So I just have to hope.

If anyone's reading this:

__Get__ __it__ __right__ __this__ __time__.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**Personal Log of T. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**04/01/1867**
----
[[/=]]

An era ends.

The next won't last nearly so long.

But it won't be any less busy.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**Personal Log of N. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**03/18/1879**
----
[[/=]]

We're finally able to start fixing some of the things in here. I estimate we'll have most of the equipment repaired decades before it would be possible to invent it.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**Personal Log of R. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**07/09/1969**
----
[[/=]]

The difference we've made is extraordinary. The only thing more difficult than nudging history in the right direction is occluding the origin of the push.

Humanity is standing in a crowd of faceless horrors, and we're elbowing them toward the fire exit.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**Personal Log of O. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**09/02/1975**
----
[[/=]]

This place has almost outlived its usefulness. That was always part of the plan, but it's honestly a surprise to see it happen. People have lived and died in here without ever knowing for sure that everything was going to work out.

I've had to turn on the occlusion system. It's finicky, and I don't know how long it will last, but I can't take the chance of some satellite picking us up. The limitations are frightening, but at least nobody else knows how to weaponize them. I hope.

The Facility should be self-sustaining now. We're going to leave the keys in the ignition, just in case, but I think the next time I walk out those doors will be the last time. 

I hope nobody ever needs to go back in.

Because that will mean we didn't get it right this time, either.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**Personal Log of L. ██████, Director, Facility-34**

**06/29/1994**
----
[[/=]]

Someone's been in here. 

I can't find the Director's keycard. I think it might be gone. There's places in here we wouldn't be able to cut our way into if we spent a decade on it. We're shut out.

The machine is broken, and the flowers are wilting. We were able to get into parts storage, and Ricardo thinks he can get it working again. But it's going to be a one-way trip. 

I just hope we haven't got a stowaway. 

But I don't think we can afford to keep looking. The dilation isn't the same as it was before. Whatever's wrong with the machine, it's spreading. They're seeing things in the corridors. It's getting harder to talk. Time is running every which way. When I check the monitor, it seems like outside is catching up. We need to be out of here before they realize we're gone. Before they kill whoever's trying to kill them.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/ICS.png]]
@@ @@

**06/30/1994**
----
[[/=]]

They're all dead. 

I have to believe that, because anything else would paralyze me.

I have to save what's left.

I have to press the button.

Dad. Teresa. Ernesto. Jorge. Aurelio. Eloy. Fina. Yésica.

I'm so sorry.
[[/div]]

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Dr. Okorie, now standing, places a hand on Chief Ibanez's shoulder.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They were here. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They were here //after I was here.//

//<Dr. Astrauskas stands, and places a hand on Chief Ibanez's other shoulder.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They left me. 

//<Chief Ibanez shakes them both off, and marches toward the operations centre.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They're alive.

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-9]]

**Addendum 8273-9, Free Port Consult:** On 01/16/2024, prior to embarking on Operation CICLO, Chief Ibanez consulted with Queen Aphora of FP-09 on the topic of the supposed "Prophets of the Severed Halls." A partial transcript of their interview is appended below, for context.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Excerpt begins.>//

//<Aphora stands at the pinnacle of the Palace of Aph. The sandstone has been scoured of all decoration, and the furnishings are spare and simple. A wraparound window covers the south wall, beyond which the remainder of the city can be seen. It is badly damaged, though massive clouds of dust mark the locations of Aphian micamancers engaged in reconstruction work. The most urgent activity is around the city walls, which suffered extensive damage during the city's extrusion from the earth.>//

//<Chief Ibanez approaches, and stands beside Aphora at the window.>//

**Aphora:** Come to see the harm your lover wrought personally, now that the dust has settled? 

**Chief Ibanez:** The dust is never settled with you. 

**Aphora:** It will certainly never be settled between us.

**Chief Ibanez:** Suits me fine. 

//<She taps the glass.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Repairs seem to be going well. 

//<Aphora grunts.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Udo told me she intentionally cushioned everything in as much sand as she could before she brought it up through the crust. As far as I can see, most of the city made it out intact. 

**Aphora:** Most. I'll note she made precious little effort to preserve our walls. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah, well. As I think she'd remind you, walls make bad neighbours.

**Aphora:** You came here to reinforce her ill-considered, heavy-handed lectures on responsibility?

**Chief Ibanez:** I came here to talk about the Severed Halls. You said there was more to the story. 

**Aphora:** I did say that. I also said it wasn't mine to tell. 

**Chief Ibanez:** You're in this conflict now, Aphora. There's no weaseling out of it. If there's another involved party, one we don't know about...

**Aphora:** You want to find them, ruin their homes too? 

**Chief Ibanez:** I want to know what part they're going to play. 

//<Aphora sighs.>//

**Aphora:** Their part concluded long ago. As I told... //Dr. Okorie,// they were seers.

**Chief Ibanez:** They prophesied. 

**Aphora:** Yes.

**Chief Ibanez:** When did your people break with the prophets?

**Aphora:** Long, long ago. Before I was born. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Which was when? 

**Aphora:** About 1500. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Isn't that when the Unyielding and Uncontained were created? 

**Aphora:** That's one theory. 

**Chief Ibanez:** You're going to try and be cagey with me? I've still got access to that orbital kill satellite. 

**Aphora:** And you won't use it, so long as you think there's a chance you can wring more information out of me. Consider my recalcitrance an investment in my own future. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I just consider it annoying. But fine, we'll put a pin in that. //Why// did you break with the prophets? 

**Aphora:** They became selfish. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Not like you guys. 

**Aphora:** Precisely not like us. They felt guilty about those we left behind. And so we had to leave them. 

**Chief Ibanez:** You dumped your conscience on the side of the multiversal road, huh? 

**Aphora:** They were not our conscience. They were a floating, omnidirectional sense of guilt. It bound them together. And that was the source of their power.

**Chief Ibanez:** How so?

**Aphora:** They knew each other. They were connected by those inextricable strands of responsibility. In tandem, they could move as one. Like I said, selfish.

**Chief Ibanez:** You and I define that word differently. What kind of mobility are we talking, here?

**Aphora:** The kind for which the ends of the Earth prove no barrier.

**Chief Ibanez:** You mean...?

**Aphora:** Their rituals were vital to our escape. We had to develop a means of our own, when they were gone. 

**Chief Ibanez:** You're saying they were the ones who made the city move? Who saved you from your universe exploding?

**Aphora:** Yes. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Aphora:** That troubles you. 

**Chief Ibanez:** No, it's just...

**Aphora:** Why? What connection have you just made? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Where did you leave them? 

**Aphora:** Why does it matter? They won't let you find them. 

**Chief Ibanez:** It matters because... I think... 

//<Chief Ibanez takes a deep breath.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I think they did to me, what you did to them.

//<Excerpt ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-10]]

**Addendum 8273-10, Additional Consult:** Immediately after updating the SCP-8273 file with Addendum 8273-8, PTF Delta-6500 received a directive from the Department of Containment barring them from further investigating the implications of the Facility-34 Director's personal log beyond the scope of the present subject. Chief Ibanez's earlier consultation request, to assess the state of the Facility's dimensional travel mechanism, was granted; the circumstances of the consultant's arrival are outlined in the transcript below.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Transcript begins.>//

//<Chief Ibanez and Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie watch as an MTF Epsilon-43 helicopter lands on the Zevalan beach, and Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate emerges. He waves excitedly and attempts to speak, then begins coughing in the cloud of sand raised by the rotors. He is inaudible until the helicopter departs again.>//

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Placeholder.jpg|
    caption=Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

**Chief Ibanez:** What?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I said, the band's back together, huh?

//<Dr. Okorie smiles, and waves. Dr. McDoctorate waves back.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Are you alone? I was expecting a real scientist, too.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'm a real... 

//<Dr. McDoctorate scowls.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'm not just a pataphysicist. I'm a hardware and software engineer, as well as a quantum theorist. I built the [[[scp-5956 | REISNO Cannon]]], remember? And I've been thinking of getting back into that sort of thing lately. You know, crazy machines.

//<Dr. McDoctorate chuckles.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:**  I love crazy machines. 

//<He notices something over Chief Ibanez's shoulder, and suddenly grins.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:**  Oh, hey! You brought the thing. I've been asking to study that for //ages.// How'd you get it out of the DoC's clutches?

**Chief Ibanez:** Sokolsky.[[span class="fnnum"]].[[/span]][[span class="fncon"]]Dr. Daniil Sokolsky, Deputy Director of the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority.[[/span]]

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Yeah. Figures.

//<The four of them head up the path toward Facility-34.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What did you want to study it for? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Are you kidding? The pataphysics sword? 

//<Chief Ibanez huffs.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Not this again. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** It's an artifact that catalyzes your protagonistic potential into a source of renewable anomalous energy. It's quite possibly the coolest thing I've ever seen that doesn't have moving parts or code. Why did you bring it? 

//<They have reached the entrance to the Facility. Dr. McDoctorate's eyes widen.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Oh, wow. You brought it to make this place appear, didn't you?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm still not clear why it worked. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Well, it's obvious, isn't it? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** No. That's why I said I'm not clear on it.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Sorry. Sorry. I mean... are you familiar with the trope of the doomed hometown?

**Chief Ibanez:** Are you familiar with the trope of the expert who dies early? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'm familiar with //all the tropes,// but I don't think there's a name for that one. Anyway, it'd be [[[https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SuddenSequelDeathSyndrome | sudden sequel death syndrome]]] in this case. What was I saying? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Doomed hometown.

//<Dr. McDoctorate extends his arms wide for emphasis.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Right. One of the most common launching pads for a hero. Heading out into a brave new future, with the past on fire behind them. But today, she came back. 

//<Dr. McDoctorate claps. Dr. Astrauskas jumps.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** The arc is completed. That's powerful. 

**Dr. Okorie:** That's not what it was. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** No? 

**Dr. Okorie:** No. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Then what? 

//<Dr Okorie glances at Chief Ibanez, who is looking at the sky.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Ask me later. Can you fix the machine? 

//<Dr. McDoctorate shrugs.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Maybe? From the outline you sent it's not like anything I've ever seen, but then, that goes for all eigenmachines. Having the sword here will help, assuming my techno-wizardry counts as a kind of heroics. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Weak assumption. 

//<Dr. McDoctorate heads for the Facility, ignoring her.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Anyway, leave it with me. 

//<He glances over his shoulder, and raises a finger.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** But keep that sword charged, just in case. 

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<Five hours have passed. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie are playing double solitaire in the control room. Chief Ibanez is sitting across the room, her back to the others.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** I have a semantics question.

//<Dr. Astrauskas nods. Chief Ibanez does not move.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Does 'no further investigation' mean we can't chat about it?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I mean, we'd only be talking about the investigation we already did.

**Dr. Okorie:** Cool.

//<She throws down her cards.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** WHAT THE FUCK.

//<Chief Ibanez glances over at her, but still does not respond.>//

//<Dr. Okorie stands, and begins pacing operations control.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** We know what it means, right? What it has to mean? It can only--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** WHAT THE FUCK!

//<Dr. Okorie jumps, and glares at Dr. Astrauskas.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Sorry. I've got a longer fuse. Yeah, this is too much. We have to talk about it.

**Dr. Okorie:** Okay.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Alright.

**Dr. Okorie:** So, we know the world is kind of ending. Because of the cycle.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Yeah.

**Dr. Okorie:** And we learned last year that other worlds have ended before, because of the same thing.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Right. And you and your mom are descendants of escapees from some of those other worlds.

**Dr. Okorie:** Right.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So is it that weird to find out someone time travelled from one of those other worlds to found the Foundation?

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie:** (in unison) YES!

//<Chief Ibanez sighs.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Who cares?

//<They glance in her direction. She does not meet their eyes.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Del...

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm sorry. It's just, it's a lot. I know that you...

//<She raises her hands, then slaps them to her thighs in frustration.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I know. 

**Chief Ibanez:** It's fine.

//<She stands, and walks to the glass double doors leading to the exterior corridor.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** It's whatever.

**Dr. Okorie:** Del--

//<Chief Ibanez attempts to push open the doors, both at once. She strikes the crossbars, and the glass shatters.>//

//<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie stand, and rush to her side.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Fuck off.

**Dr. Okorie:** Multiversal travel must have weakened the glass. That stuff in the diary about exchangers--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Did you cut yourself? Let me--

**Chief Ibanez:** FUCK OFF!

//<She shoves them away from her, slams the doors fully open, and storms into the corridor.>//

//<There is an exclamation of surprise and pain, in a male voice, and Chief Ibanez shouts in inarticulate rage.>//

//<Dr. McDoctorate appears in the doorway, rubbing his hip. He looks down at the broken glass.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Bad time?

//<Dr. Okorie purses her lips.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Well, uh. So.

//<Chief Ibanez pushes roughly past him again, into operations control. She pulls a chair away from a monitoring console with enough force to briefly lift it from the floor, slams it down, and sits.>//

//<Silence on recording.>//

//<Chief Ibanez clenches her jaw.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** WELL?

//<Dr. McDoctorate blinks, then gently pulls out a second chair on the other side of the double doors, and sits down. The other two doctors lean on the backs of the nearest aisle consoles, looking back and forth between Chief Ibanez and Dr. McDoctorate.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** So, there's a problem. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Just the one? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Well, just the one we can do anything about. The Facility has a variety of defensive systems I don't fully understand, and I'm just going to say right out that there's no chance I //will// understand them any time soon. There's no documentation, and several of them have become disused to the point of being fancy-looking slag. Between metal fatigue and the effects of our SRAs, time dilation is now almost nil and I don't see that ever changing. And if any of these doohickeys put up that dome people saw during TAILWIND KITE, that dome is staying down. For now, at least.

//<He gives Chief Ibanez a wry, if cautious, look.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate** Though I suspect you don't need or particularly want help on the defensive front.

**Chief Ibanez:** No. Focus on the things I can't do on my own.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Big ticket item it is. I've got most of the mechanism figured out.

//<Dr. Okorie frowns.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** How? How can you possibly? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Don't get me wrong. I don't know why this thing does what it presumably does--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What does it presumably do?

//<Chief Ibanez crosses her arms, and looks at the ceiling.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Well, it's called the Trans-Liminal Propulser -- which is not what I would call very good English, by the way -- so it presumably travels between universes. Whether that's alternate timelines, alternate universes, or tangents, I have no idea. Just like I have no idea how it's capable of doing that. Which, by the way, holy shit! Had to get that out of the way.

**Dr. Okorie:** How dare you.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Sorry. But anyway, what I //do// know is what a machine looks like when it's properly ticking over, and this one is getting there fast. It was mostly just wear and tear. Like somebody took the old jalopy for a spin one time too many. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Somebody. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Yeah. 

**Dr. Okorie:** So, what's the problem? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** The other thing that happens when you don't do the required maintenance on your vehicle. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Your stickers expire?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You run out of fuel. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Oh. I don't do a lot of driving. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Basement dwellers.

//<Dr. Okorie swats her.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What's it run on? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** No idea. I guess technically that could qualify for a second problem. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Visions. 

//<The other three turn to face her.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Eh?

//<Chief Ibanez rolls her eyes, and leave them pointed at the ceiling.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Stranger-in-the-Mist. They use it for visions. 

//<Dr. Okorie nods.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Aphora said the prophets needed a big supply of it, for everything they did. Their power came from the flowers. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Oh. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Flower power.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** The power to see potential futures. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** That's kind of elegant. And it would explain the hydroponics. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** How soon can we get a fresh supply? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Not soon enough. 

**Dr. Okorie:** The Foundation's on better terms with Puerto Extraño then Zevala ever was, and they've been working a long time to produce a fresh batch. Plus, cargo planes move a lot faster than ships. Won't be more than a few hours.

**Chief Ibanez:** Like I said.

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-11]]

**Addendum 8273-11, Transit:** With the arrival of technical specialists from Site-34 the following day and ontokinetics personnel from Site-120 the day after, Dr. McDoctorate's assessment and repair work proceeded at a rapid pace. Chief Ibanez conducted training exercises and minor off-site operations coordinated with Latin American Branch Command, while Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie maintained operational control at Caleta San Roque. Chief Ibanez returned five days after Dr. McDoctorate's arrival to provide additional engineering consults, and two days later the final adjustments had been made. 

The device's computer controls were activated in full, and after a further day familiarizing themselves with the operating system and interface and running diagnostics -- with Chief Ibanez's memories of her earlier trips now fully restored -- it was determined by Delta-6500 that all was in order.

Chief Ibanez assembled her command personnel in operations control to begin the exploratory component of Operation CICLO. A transcript of their brief discussion is appended below. 

[[div class="blockquote"]]

//<Transcript begins.>//

//<Chief Ibanez stands in front of the central board. Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie stand behind the front row of consoles.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Today's the day? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah. Assuming poofy fixed the exchangers.

//<Dr. McDoctorate reaches up to finger his curly hair, mouthing the word 'poofy' with a frown.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** They're fixed, yes. I take great pride in the fact that my projects never result in //everyone dying.//

**Chief Ibanez:** Just thought I'd ask.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Haven't seen much of you these past few. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Been busy. Nobody but me has ever used the thing before. 

**Dr. Okorie:** And yet you've been flying around the countryside for most of the last week. Del, are you--

**Chief Ibanez:** I want to get this over with. I don't stand around waiting for things to happen. They can happen now, so I'm here. I'm ready. Are you? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It might be prudent to give anyone who's taking the trip a psych workup. Looking for stress. Even a proper aura reading--

**Chief Ibanez:** You think there's any chance this boat leaves without me? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** No, but--

**Chief Ibanez:** You think I'm fragile? Udo, you think that? 

**Dr. Okorie:** We know you aren't. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** You do seem very angry, though. That could cloud your judgement. 

//<Chief Ibanez nods.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I'm the ranking combatant. I'm in charge of any security aspects. You and Udo have scientific control, and I don't rank either of you. Roz has last say on psych matters. That enough ass-covering for you?

**Dr. Okorie:** Nobody's trying to cover--

**Chief Ibanez:** I hate this. I always hate this shit. You think you have to say this, but it won't change anything. I'm going. You're going. Any conversation we could have will just delay the inevitable.

**Dr. Okorie:** We've [[[https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/no-return-hub | delayed the inevitable]]] before. You and me, and Place. And the Leading Edge. You can get a lot done in an interval, sometimes. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Not this time. If there's work worth doing now, it's on the other side.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** We still don't really know much about that other side. The controls make it easy enough to backtrack to the Facility's last stop, and it's one you've been to before according to your notes on the manual and the recordings you made, but...

**Chief Ibanez:** But?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** But all you did was go for a swim and eat some fish. Three decades ago. Who knows what we're going to see on the other side, really? 

**Chief Ibanez:** That's why we're putting a limit on our losses. Us four, as many techs as you need, and a couple agents from 6500. Everybody else stands well back and hopes nothing explodes.

**Dr. Okorie:** Wouldn't it be safer to bring everyone? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Safer for us. Not safer for everyone. A small team might be vulnerable, but if it's really bad wherever we end up, and we get overwhelmed, I want as much brain and brawnpower on this side trying to get us back as possible.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So you're leaving the sword?

//<Chief Ibanez scoffs.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Didn't think so. 

**Chief Ibanez:** The supplies I wanted are stocked?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Food, meds, and about half Puerto Extraño's crop of //Nigella.// But I know you checked already. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Never hurts to double-check. Whatever's waiting for us, I doubt there's a corner grocery.

//<She thumbs her lapel radio.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You there, Nasty?

**Agent Koslova:** Setting up shop. Ready in five. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Place?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Essential personnel are already inside, and everyone else is at the camp. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Good boy. Go tell your folks the game is on, and then meet us at the big red button. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Is it actually a big red button? 

**Chief Ibanez:** You heard the recording. I really was hoping for a bomb. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It still might be one. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** It won't blow up. More likely it smears our atoms across the timeplane.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It not doing that is even more likely, though, right? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'd say yes. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** That's a relief. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** In the confidence that if I'm wrong, you won't be able to complain to me about it after.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<The Trans-Liminal Propulser (TLP) is a fountain cluster of chrome pipes surrounded by a glittering net of fibre optics, both sets of tubes emerging from a central spiral shaft descending down beneath the floor to disappear into a mass of jet intakes, coolant tanks, and computer banks. The control room looks down on the machine from above.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I love this thing. So elegant. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm still amazed you guys got it back in order so fast. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I'm not. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Well, sure, you've seen it before, but that was ages ago. And Place never saw it at all. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Do we know that? 

//<Chief Ibanez nods fractionally.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** If this was constructed in the 1990s in a universe not too much different from this one, it's remotely conceivable I could have been involved in the project. Probably as a programmer. The code was suspiciously simple to untangle. The thought did occur to me.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Well, that's kind of creepy. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Let's agree to call it auspicious instead, eh? For luck. 

**Chief Ibanez:** We good?

//Dr. McDoctorate looks down at the main console.//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Board is green. Red's all yours. 

//<He steps aside to let her take his place.>//

//<She keys her mic.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Hold on to your atoms.

//<She releases the mic, and takes a deep breath.>//

//<In a single fluid motion she steps up to the console and presses the activation switch.>//

//<The shaft begins to turn, and the fibre optics shimmer with colour. All sound ceases. There is a bright light. It resolves into static; later examination will reveal this to be a representation of cosmic background radiation. The visible spectrum abruptly compresses on the vertical axis, then horizontally at a slower pace, as with a collapsing cathode ray tube image. There is darkness for several seconds, then the process reverses. The static returns; its profile has shifted to an unfamiliar configuration. All camera feeds now resolve to show the control room again. All parties appear unharmed.>//

//<Dr. Okorie speaks first, barely above a whisper.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Wheeee.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I was really hoping for a 'vwoorp', at least.

//<Dr. McDoctorate gently eases Chief Ibanez aside, and examines the readout.>//

//<Without waiting for a verdict, Chief Ibanez leaves the room. The others follow, Dr. McDoctorate bringing up the rear.>//

//<Agents Koslova and Koslov join the group as they approach the rear airlock. They do not speak.>//

//<The others hang back as Chief Ibanez walks through the inner airlock door, opens a storage locker, and removes SCP-6500-SWORD in its sheathe. She attaches the sheathe to its harness, and shoulders it on.>//

//<She places a finger on the outer door release.>//

//<She whispers something inaudible, and cycles the airlock.>//

//<The inner door closes.>//

//<Gases exchange.>//

//<The outer door opens.>//

//<Beyond, all is green.>//

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-12]]

**Addendum 8273-12, Arrival:** With confirmation from Chief Ibanez that the exterior environment was safe in an immediate sense, instruments were set up by the skeleton scientific staff to determine atmospheric conditions in greater detail. It was quickly determined that the Facility's destination, topographically similar to the gulch on Caleta San Roque but densely overgrown with unfamiliar vegetation, had the same atmospheric content as the planet Earth -- minus environmental pollutants, which were negligible.

PTF Delta-6500, now consisting of Chief Ibanez, Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie, and agents Koslov and Koslova, therefore began exploration of the new environment.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Transcript begins.>//

//<Delta-6500 are moving through the gulch. The vegetation is thick, but they are able to make slow progress toward the beach. The exterior of the Facility behind them is still pristine, but there is a pile of rotting plant material at the base of its walls, suggesting overgrowth which fell and decayed when SCP-6500-SWORD called the Facility back to baseline reality. There is a rut in the ground, suggesting frequent traffic between beach and Facility at some point in the past, but this too is thickly overgrown. The sky is a yellowish green. There are no clouds.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Do you remember anything yet?

//<Chief Ibanez shrugs noncommittally. Her shoulders are tense.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** She's been out two hours, and she never did much here the first time around. She probably remembers everything.

//<Agent Koslova draws a sharp breath. The doctors stop moving; Chief Ibanez and Agent Koslov do not.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** You hear something?

**Agent Koslova:** Sorry, just inhaling. Air's so god damn clean.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Spores, though.

//<She points up. Above the gulch, the sky is now mottled with thick blobs floating on a light breeze, darker green than the sky.>//

//<Agent Koslov points his flashlight up at the spores, and activates it. The spores shine brightly in the light. When he turns it off, the glow remains for some time.>//

//<Agent Koslova smacks him in the back of the head.>//

**Agent Koslova:** Idiot. They'll know we're coming now.

**Chief Ibanez:** They already know.

//<At the far end of the gulch, a young woman is standing stock still. She is dressed in typical 1990s casual clothing, careworn and repaired in places. She is staring at the party, open-mouthed.>//

**SCP-8273-2:** Oh my god?

//<Both agents have their hands on their holstered weapons. Chief Ibanez presses her hands to her thighs.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Identify yourself. 

**SCP-8273-2:** Oh my //god.//

**Chief Ibanez:** Not me, you.

**SCP-8273-2:** What...?

**Chief Ibanez:** Tell me who you are, kid.

//<Chief Ibanez approaches the woman. Her eyes are a dark green, matching the verdant gulley in the fading light.>//

**SCP-8273-2:** Pilar. I... my name is Pilar. Oh my god, where did you come from? Did my dad...?

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Pilar.jpg|
    caption= SCP-8273-2. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

**Chief Ibanez:** We're with the SCP Foundation. I'm Chief Delfina Ibanez.

//<Pilar blinks.>//

**Pilar:** Delfina?

**Chief Ibanez:** Ibanez.

**Pilar:** Ibanez. Oh my god.

**Chief Ibanez:** You've said that. A few times. 

**Dr. Okorie:** This is going to be a lot for them to process, Del.

**Chief Ibanez:** Then I'd rather do it in bulk. Pilar? Are there others? 

**Pilar:** Others? What...?

//<Chief Ibanez snaps her fingers rapidly.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** The dizzy bitch routine is really starting to get on my nerves. Are you alone, or are there others?

**Pilar:** There's others. 

//<Pilar looks back to where the gulch should turn to meet the beach.>//

**Pilar:** At the village. 

**Chief Ibanez:** The village. 

**Pilar:** That's right. Past the cleft, and up the beach.

**Chief Ibanez:** The cleft, and the beach.

**Pilar:** That's right. I, I can take you there. Oh my god, you're really...? And you're from... Earth? 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Meaning that's not where this is. 

//<Pilar shakes her head emphatically.>//

**Pilar:** No. Not at all. 

**Chief Ibanez:** What's this place called, then? 

**Pilar:** Puerto Extirpado.

//<Chief Ibanez sucks in a breath through her teeth.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Del? 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** What's it mean?

 **Chief Ibanez:** It's not exact.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Contextually, then.

//<Chief Ibanez grits her teeth.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** The Severed Port.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Guess that answers that. 

//<Chief Ibanez gestures at Pilar.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Well, don't just stand there gaping. Lead on. 

//<Pilar steps back, and waits for Chief Ibanez to approach her. The others follow at a distance. Pilar leads the group farther down the gulch, to where it should narrow to a cleft if the stone facing mirrors that of Caleta San Roque.>//

**Pilar:** I can't believe you're here. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah.

**Pilar:** I know who you are. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Uh huh. 

**Pilar:** You're supposed to be dead. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Everyone from Zevala is supposed to be dead.

//<Pilar frowns.>//

**Pilar:** How did you get here? 

**Chief Ibanez:** I'm only gonna explain this once. Not ten thousand times.

**Pilar:** There's only seventy-two of us. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Seventy-two. 

**Pilar:** Yeah. 

//<Chief Ibanez removes her service weapon from its holster. Pilar's eyes widen, and she raises her hands as if in self-defence. Chief Ibanez begins a systematic weapon check as they proceed toward the cleft.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Del--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Don't. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I just--

**Dr. Astrauskas:** No. 

//<Dr. Astrauskas points at herself.//>

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Trust me. Don't. 

//<Chief Ibanez finishes checking her weapon as the party reaches the cleft, and secures it in its holster again. Pilar looks at her warily as she leads the party onto the beach, single file with Chief Ibanez immediately behind her.>//

//<The sand appears greyish, but this is likely a property of the greenish light. There is no visible sun when the bay comes into view, as the sky is hazy, but judging by the darkening landscape it appears to be setting behind the distant cliffs. These cliffs are much higher than the matching cliffs of Caleta San Roque, an average of perhaps fifty metres from the bay to the table, and two hundred from the table to the tops of the hills, but they obey the same general shape. There is vegetation consistent with thick tree cover, though it is impossible to determine species at this distance. The waters of the bay are completely still, and algae green.>//

//<Across the bay and to the right where the table encircles it, lights are visible. The rough shape of irregular shacks can be discerned, as well as grain silos, a tall windmill, a badly canted lighthouse and the barely-visible wreck of a rusted cargo ship.>//

//<Chief Ibanez walks to the edge of the water, and stares at the lights.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Del? Is this it?

//<There is no response.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Del?

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/PuertoExtirpado.jpg|
    caption= Puerto Extirpado. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah. 

//<Chief Ibanez turns, not to face them, but to approach the path up the table at the northern end of the beach.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah, this is it.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<It is night in Puerto Extirpado as Delta-6500 and Pilar leave the beach and head up the table's eastern incline. Construction is sparse here; the group pass through the remains of a gatehouse composed of sheets of corrugated metal in various colours, largely overgrown with broad-leaved ivies of no Earthly clade. There are a few huts of similar construction here, though most are equally overgrown and several show signs of severe fire damage.>//

//<There are lanterns hanging from the less disused structures, burning a sickly yellow. The lights multiply farther up the incline, and the structures are in better repair. Here they have been augmented with hewn and painted wood, possibly replacing damage to the original steel.>//

//<There is a brighter light ahead, and a thin older woman carrying a lantern appears on the well-beaten path. Pilar rushes ahead of the party to meet her.>//

**SCP-8273-4:** Pilar! It's late! Where have you... 

//<The older woman notices the approaching Delta-6500.>//

**SCP-8273-4:** ...//dios mio.//

//<Chief Ibanez grits her teeth.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You in charge? 

**SCP-8273-4:** I... Where did you... 

**Pilar:** Mother--

**SCP-8273-4:** I can't... I...

**Pilar:** Mother!

**SCP-8273-4:** Nobody's in charge. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Awesome. I nominate myself, then. Gather everybody up at the hall, Ursula? If it's still the hall. 

//<The older woman, apparently Ursula, simply stares at her.>//

//<Chief Ibanez walks past her to a large brass bell mounted on a wooden swinging mount. She turns a crank, and the bell begins to swing. It peals out across the bay.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Alarm bells. Could have used these before. 

**Ursula:** That's why we have them now. Are you... 

//<There are suddenly tears in her eyes.>//

**Ursula:** It can't be.

//<Chief Ibanez walks past her without a word.>//

//<Dr. Okorie approaches the older woman.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** It's a weird day for her. 

**Pilar:** Weirder for us.

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<Chief Ibanez passes Ursula, and begins to climb the eastern slope.>//

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Ursula.jpg|
    caption=SCP-8273-4. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

//<Delta-6500 and the two Extirpadan women move through the eastern end of the village towards the town hall at the rough centre of its arc. The east is poorly-populated, with most well-lit houses clustered around the centre and the west. Residents in worn clothing emerge from the shacks as the party passes by, and Ursula and Pilar direct some of them to the town hall. Most already seem to know where they should go, though all regard the new arrivals with a mixture of curiosity and shock as they do. A word from Ursula silences all questions.>//

//<The village is dotted with ruins: overgrown concrete gun emplacements, all of them badly damaged; collapsed shacks, though only the most rusted or split steel has been left behind; rotted outhouses; patches of ground where the vegetation is more or less lush, likely representing filled-in shellholes or buried items. Rusted machinery is everywhere, some of it no longer identifiable. There are also pallets of supplies, some of them weather-wrapped. There are crates similar to Foundation-issue, bearing the insignia of the Secure Containment Institute.>//

//<As Chief Ibanez had earlier stated, the footprints of each structure obey no rectilinear plan. All are subtly or wildly off-angle.>//

//<This is clearly the village of Zevala, transplanted wholesale from Caleta San Roque to Puerto Extirpado.>//

//<When she reaches the town hall, a much larger but no less ramshackle structure, Chief Ibanez pushes open the front double doors and enters without asking permission. Without speaking a word to Ursula or Pilar, she heads through the tidy space with its packed earthen floor and rows of gaudily-repainted 1960s-era metal chairs to hop up onto the main stage, then enter the back rooms via a heavy panelled steel door. She shuts it behind her.>//

//<Dr. Okorie ensures that Ursula will handle the assembling of the villagers while Agents Koslova and Koslov secure the perimeter, asserting casual authority without assuming a threatening posture. Dr. Astrauskas examines the townsfolk as they enter, smiling politely and offering little information in response to their enquiries. Dr. McDoctorate sits in a back corner, sketching and writing in a notebook and muttering quietly to himself.>//

//<When seventy-one villagers are assembled in the hall, including Ursula and Pilar -- filling less than a quarter of the main room -- Dr. Okorie climbs onto the stage and enters the back rooms without knocking.>//

//<Chief Ibanez is sitting at a rough-hewn table, picking at graffiti with her pen knife. The graffiti appears fresh, and takes the form of a blossoming flower, but the proportions and cuts suggest it was previously an older carving of a set of spirals in circular form.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** They ready? 

//<She does not look up from her carving.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** The old woman--

**Chief Ibanez:** Ursula.

**Dr. Okorie:** Sure, she says everyone's here who's likely to come. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Why would any of them not come? 

**Dr. Okorie:** I don't know. 

**Chief Ibanez:** And you didn't want to ask. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I'm sorry. I'm not sure what to--

//<Chief Ibanez stands, closing her knife and returning it to its pouch at her belt.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** It's fine. Let's go.

//<The door opens again, and Dr. Astrauskas slips through.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You probably don't want to hear this--

**Chief Ibanez:** You're right.

//<She walks past both doctors. After a moment, and an exchanged glance, they follow. The assembled Extirpadans look up, gasping and chattering amongst themselves. Several are pointing. Several are openly weeping.>//

//<Dr. Okorie closes the door behind her, and leans on it. Chief Ibanez walks up to a makeshift steel podium on casters, taller than she is, and pushes it roughly aside. It rolls to a stop just before the edge of the stage.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Alright, listen up. You...

//<She blinks in the lamplight.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You...

//<A voice calls out from the crowd, male.>//

**SCP-8273-5:** Fina?

//<Another responds.>//

**SCP-8273-6:** What? 

**SCP-8273-5:** That's Fina. That's L--

//<A third voice interrupts.>//

**SCP-8273-7:** That's impossible. 

**SCP-8273-6:** It //is// Fina.

//<A fourth.>//

**SCP-8273-8:** Oh my god.

//<Many of the villagers rise from their seats, and approach the stage. The crowd is already in an uproar.>//

//<Chief Ibanez stands her ground, but her posture is tense.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Back up. I don't...

//<The villagers stare up at her, some grasping at the edge of the stage to get a better look. A child cries out at the back of the room, very young, and Chief Ibanez's head snaps up in shock. She moves her mouth, but no words come out.>//

**SCP-8273-9:** What's happened to you? 

**SCP-8273-7:** It can't be her. She's dead. 

**SCP-8273-10:** It looks like her. 

**SCP-8273-6:** The eyes are wrong. 

//<Ursula is standing in the middle of the crowd, a deferential space around her.>//

**Ursula:** Who else could it be? Who else would have found us? 

**SCP-8273-11:** It could have been //them.// 

**Ursula:** They wouldn't call a meeting. They'd do what they did the last time.

**SCP-8273-7:** They killed her. That's what they did last time.

//<Chief Ibanez stamps the stage, hard. The hubbub dies down immediately, and most of the fingers retract.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** No. They didn't. They killed all of you, and then I killed all of them.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Ursula:** Tell us what happened. 

//<Chief Ibanez draws a deep breath, and fixes her eyes on a space in the far distance.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** As far as the world knows -- or the parts of the world that ever knew you existed -- you don't exist anymore. The Foundation... The people I work for, they think everyone who ever lived in Zevala is dead.

**SCP-8273-11:** But is it //you.//

//<Silence on recording.>//

//<Pilar, from the back of the room, away from the crowd, responds.>//

**Pilar:** She says her name is Delfina Ibanez.

//<The crowd erupts. There is shouting, and confusion. There is further sobbing, and there are angry exclamations.>//

//<Ursula's voice, nevertheless, carries.>//

**Ursula:** I'm so sorry, child. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I'm nobody's child.

//<Her voice is barely audible.>//

//<She turns to face the podium, examining it, as the villagers shout questions at her and accusations at each other. She examines the scuffed black boxes at each corner of the hall, then removes her radio microphone from its lapel, winds up, and throws. The device's cord coils around the platform microphone on the podium, and she yanks, hard. The microphone falls off the podium, clattering onto the stage. An ear-splitting shriek is emitted from the speakers, and a series of loud bangs.>//

//<As the noise subsides, the crowd now silent, Chief Ibanez returns her radio mic to its hook.>// 

**Chief Ibanez:** One at a time.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Raise your hands. I'll point.

//<Almost every hand in the crowd raises.>//

//<Chief Ibanez looks down at the crowd, and points at one of the villagers who has already spoken.>//

**SCP-8273-11:** Ignacio Valencia. Mr. Va--

**Chief Ibanez:** I know who you are. What's your question?

**SCP-8273-11:** Oh. Uh. Can you get us out of here?

//<She stares at him.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You want to leave?

**SCP-8273-6:** Of course we want to leave. 

**Ursula:** We've been trapped here for thirty years.

**Chief Ibanez:** I thought you were hiding. 

**SCP-8273-11:** For thirty years? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Hiding really well. 

**Ursula:** We would have come back, if we could have. 

//<Chief Ibanez's voice is flat.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Why.

**Ursula:** To see if any of you were still there. 

**Chief Ibanez:** Then why leave at all? 

**Ursula:** There was fighting. We saw a chance, and we took it.

**Chief Ibanez:** That was //me.// I was fighting. 

//<Her fingers twitch, as though she is attempting not to clench her fists.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** For you.

**Ursula:** I'm sorry. 

**Chief Ibanez:** They shot my brother in the head, right in front of me. They shot Ernesto. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

//<The baby cries again, and its mother quietly shushes it. Chief Ibanez twitches, but does not look up again.>//

**Ursula:** Fina...

**Chief Ibanez:** They shot Yésica. Blew her brains out of her face.

**Ursula:** Fina--

**Chief Ibanez:** Call me Chief Ibanez. Or maybe just Chief.

**Ursula:** Everyone in this room wants to talk to you.

//<Many of the villagers in the front are touching the stage again. Several are clutching the edge, white-knuckled.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** We'll get your statements. 

**Ursula:** To //you,// F-- Chief Ibanez.

**Chief Ibanez:** Just Chief. 

//<Pilar speaks again, still at the rear of the hall. She sounds frustrated.>//

**Pilar:** Is nobody going to tell her? 

//<Ursula glances back, a look of anxiety on her face.>//

**Ursula:** Pilar. 

**Pilar:** She deserves to know.

**Ursula:** She does.

**Pilar:** She //can't.//

//<Chief Ibanez stomps again. Ursula turns back to her.>//

//<Chief Ibanez bends down to look the older woman in the eye.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Know //what?//

**Ursula:** Your father. 

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Ursula:** He's gone.

//<Chief Ibanez stands again, stiffly, and looks in Pilar's direction.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Your mother was right. I've known that for thirty years.

//<She turns on her heel. Dr. Okorie moves aside to let her pass, opening the door as she does so. As she disappears into the back rooms, Chief Ibanez again removes her radio mic from her lapel, and raises it to her mouth. She hasn't said anything before she's through the door; she closes it behind her with her free hand.>//

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

----

[[# anchor-13]]

**Addendum 8273-13, Exploration (Puerto Extirpado):** As night fell on Puerto Extirpado, PTF Delta-6500 were offered lodging in the town hall. Dr. Okorie accepted on behalf of Chief Ibanez, who had already exited the structure through a back door. As Agents Koslova and Koslov secured the group's gear in the back rooms, under the direction of Dr. McDoctorate, Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie searched for Chief Ibanez. They found her at the edge of the village pier.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Transcript begins.>//

//<The pier now extends only a few dozen metres into the bay. The pilings had been set deep, and the surviving ones now visibly stretch down for almost sixty metres. The remains of the next few pilings can be seen below, snapped off. The water is murky, so no further remains can be seen.>//

//<The wreck of the// Northern Reach //is clearly visible to the right, stern protruding from the bay. The masts and rigging are gone, and the exposed surface is rapidly oxidizing. Algiform flora covers much of the remaining superstructure.>//

//<Chief Ibanez is sitting on the ragged end of the pier, which has been worn down by weather and age to a softer edge. She is looking down at the water.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** I used to swim. 

//<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie sit down on either side of her.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Used to? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Yeah. 

//<Chief Ibanez picks a small wedge of rust off the underside of the pier platform, and discs it down into the bay. There is resistance when it strikes the surface, but it eventually slides under and disappears.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Used to. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I've seen you swim. 

//<Chief Ibanez shakes her head.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Nope. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Really? 

**Chief Ibanez:** Been in the water a few times on a mission, usually when it's going wrong. Had to scuba dive to nab a prisoner once. But that's it. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Why? 

//<Chief Ibanez looks up at the dark horizon.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Coral at the bottom of the bay used to glow. Not all one color. Whole spectrum. Sometimes like strobes on a dance floor. Sometimes it took all day to cycle; I'd poke my head down after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, just to see the change. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You went swimming after you ate? Isn't that how you drown?

//<Chief Ibanez gives her a wry look.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** You drown by trying to breathe water. I was great at holding my breath. I spent hours at the bottom of that bay. 

//<She snorts at Dr. Astrauskas' expression.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Not all at once. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I'd almost have believed you. 

**Chief Ibanez:** The water was always warm. Always clean. You didn't have to go down to feel it. It blew in off the sea. Great big sheets, even when the sky was clear. I used to stand on the pier and let it wash over me. Sometimes it came in with the sunset. Jesus Christ, the sunset.

//<She opens her mouth as if to laugh, but the sound doesn't come.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Yeah?

**Chief Ibanez:** Something about whatever filter was around the village. Whatever was hiding it. The sunsets were brilliant. 

//<She leans back on the palms of her hands.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** Looked like everything was burning a little bit, from inside. Bloom from one edge of the bay to the other. And then the wind whipped the water in, and the light caught the droplets...

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Like a baptism. 

**Chief Ibanez:** That's a cliché. And I didn't know what baptisms were. But I guess the idea was the same. The day washing itself away. 

//<She frowns.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** First time I had a shower at Site-34, I broke out in hives. 

**Dr. Okorie:** When was the last time you swam? 

//<Chief Ibanez leans forward again. She drapes her arms over her thighs, and begins undoing her bootlaces.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** When Yésica and I watched the village die.

//<She pauses, then begins restringing the laces, tighter.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** She loved to swim. More than I did, even. Smugglers used to drop stuff overboard, for her to find. She'd dive down to the bottom and get it, and they'd let her keep what she found.

//<She closes her eyes, but continues replacing the laces from memory.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** She practically lived in the bay.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** And that's where she died. Bled out into the water, face down.

//<Dr. Astrauskas looks down at the water. Dr. Okorie is watching Chief Ibanez very closely.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** The coral doesn't glow anymore. And the sun sets the same as it does everywhere else. 

//<She finishes with her bootlaces, but her eyes remain closed.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** The last time I touched that water, I was falling out of a helicopter. Elizabeth Crocker pushed me out. I lost consciousness, and I washed up on the shore. That's where they found me. 

**Dr. Okorie:** The Foundation. 

**Chief Ibanez:** I was in that water when what was left of my world disappeared. Unconscious. And it spat me back out. 

//<She pulls back from the edge, and climbs to her feet.>//

**Chief Ibanez:** So no. I don't swim.

//<Transcript ends.>//
[[/div]]

Despite many attempts by the villagers  to gain audience with Chief Ibanez, Delta-6500 spent the night in the town hall alone. Eventually the Extirpadans began returning to their homes, though curious onlookers continued to filter back in over the hours both before and after dawn.

At first light, Chief Ibanez gave instructions to her agents to assist the scientists if necessary, and struck off into the village on her own. She refused all conversation with the villagers.

Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie began taking a census of Puerto Extirpado, with Ursula's help, and scheduled a series of interviews to determine the state of affairs in this alternate dimension. A digest of the results is appended below.

[[div class="blockquote"]]
//<Excerpt begins.>//

//<The sun is never visible in Puerto Extirpado except as a faint circular lightening in the sky's undifferentiated off-green haze.>//

//<Gualberto Parra, village elder and farm overseer, is giving Dr. Okorie a tour of the plots in the southwestern end of the village -- the same location Chief Ibanez indicated on Caleta San Roque. The schoolhouse is visible farther to the west; there are two teenagers sitting in the long green grass, watched over by an older woman.>//

//<The farms grow squat green crops resembling squash and cabbage. Two young women in denim overalls faded almost white, with copious patching, are idly hoeing the rows and chatting in low tones.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Life on Mars.

**Parra:** Not quite so bad as you'd imagine.

**Dr. Okorie:** I wouldn't have imagined anything could grow. This place has a completely alien phylogeny. And if you could grow things, they shouldn't be edible.

**Parra:** Lucky for us we live unlikely lives, then.

**Dr. Okorie:** Very lucky. Where do you get the bulk of your supplies? Everyone I've seen seems pretty healthy.

**Parra:** Used to be, we got them out of the facility.

**Dr. Okorie:** How long did that last? 

**Parra:** About a decade. There aren't very many of us, and I guess there used to be a lot of them. 

//<He gives Dr. Okorie a meaningful look.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** I've been told in no uncertain terms not to talk about the nature of the facility.

**Parra:** So, this is going to be a one-sided conversation then.

//<Dr. Okorie smiles apologetically.>//

**Parra:** I can't really complain, assuming you're here to rescue us.

**Dr. Okorie:** I //can// tell you that's the likely plan. Do you believe me?

//<Parra shrugs.>//

**Parra:** I'm still waiting for you to give me a reason not to.

**Dr. Okorie:** Very fair. So, supplies from the facility. Canned goods and such? 

**Parra:** And the hydroponics. All the Stranger was dead, but there was still soil and fertilizer and seeds. 

**Dr. Okorie:** I didn't see any seeds.

**Parra:** That's because we used them all out here.

**Dr. Okorie:** Right. I wonder why they would have had seeds in there in the first place, though. I mean... how many kinds?

**Parra:** Hundreds.

//<Dr. Okorie sighs.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Okay, there's some things I //can// tell you. Most of our facilities, at the Foundation, if they're big enough they have some measure of self-sufficiency. Hydroponics are pretty common. But Facility-34 doesn't look like that kind of place. There's a lot about it we don't understand, but why would they have a seed vault in there?

//<She slaps her head.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** I know why. And I can't tell you. I want to tell you. I'll ask, okay? If you want to know.

//<Parra laughs. Dr. Okorie smiles sheepishly.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What?

**Parra:** I want to know everything, but I'm a patient guy. You'll find we're all pretty patient, I think. We've been waiting for a long, long time.

**Dr. Okorie:** I can only imagine.

//<They walk to where the path splits three ways, and take the centre path. Two narrow strips of farmland pass to either side of them, the cliffs rising and falling to either side. Sounds of distant conversation carry from the school, and music can be heard across the bay.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Obviously you found the hydroponics insufficient, in the end.

**Parra:** There was a lot of very advanced technology in there, but not advanced enough to make fruits and root veg happy about growing under false light. I know people who hate tomatoes, and I know people who hate potatoes, but I don't know anybody who would be happy to go the rest of their life without both.

**Dr. Okorie:** Plus the nutritional factor.

**Parra:** Obviously that's the biggest problem. The fish helped, but there were never very many of them, and I'm sorry to say in the leaner years that we fished them right to what seems to have been their extinction. We shall not see through their like again.

//<He crosses himself.>//

**Parra:** We had no choice but to try transplanting the soil out here, and see what our green sun would grow. And we had some of the dirt from Zevala as well.

**Dr. Okorie:** Which I find very interesting.

//<Parra shrugs.>//

**Parra:** Not my area. Anyway, it took a lot of trial and error to identify anything that didn't turn brown and wilt right away. The soil here isn't bad -- could be richer, could be poorer -- but there's something in it that didn't like our plants very much at first. The air likes them better. The spores are like a kind of fertilizer, don't ask me how that works. We scratched out a living eventually, as you can tell from all this--

//<Parra gestures at the farms.>//

**Parra:** --and the fact that we haven't all starved yet.

**Dr. Okorie:** Hmm.

**Parra:** What? 

**Dr. Okorie:** Let me just...

//<They reach the opposite crossroads, and Dr. Okorie opens her reagents pouch.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** ...take a look, here. 

//<She sprinkles// vim harenae //on the soil at the far end of one of the farm plots, fans out the fingers of her right hand, and points at the little red pile. The grains vibrate, and burrow down into the earth.>//

//<Parra takes a step back in alarm.>//

**Parra:** What are you doing? 

//<Dr. Okorie closes her eyes and makes slight side to side motions with her hands, as though sifting through sand. After a moment, she smiles.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** Wow. Did you know there's peat deposits under your farm? 

**Parra:** There's plenty of peat in the bog. What are you //doing?//

**Dr. Okorie:** It's much more fertile down there. Very fertile. I wonder if maybe there's something in the air that leaches all the nutrients out of the soil? Maybe the air is chlorophyll. Maybe the air is a living thing. 

//<She opens her eyes, and rotates her wrist so that her palm now faces upward. The// vim harenae //rises to the top of the soil again.>// 

**Parra:** What were you doing? With your hands? 

**Dr. Okorie:** This. 

//<Dr. Okorie points at the// vim harenae, //and guides it through the air back into her reagents pouch. She laces it up as Parra stares at her in shock.>//

**Parra:** What in the world. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Yeah. Bet you wish you had this when you were farming.

//<There is a faint rumbling beneath the earth. The farmers take wider stances, and look warily at Dr. Okorie.>//

**Dr. Okorie:** What was that?

//<Parra looks troubled. He stands more gingerly, as though worried the earth might shake again.>//

**Parra:** It happens. Time to time. Sometimes even the mountains move. 

**Dr. Okorie:** Move how? 

**Parra:** Shift back and forth. We can hear the rocks falling down. There's definitely something going on down there, underground, and not everyone is convinced that it's tectonic.

**Dr. Okorie:** Something alive, you mean.

**Parra:** Could be.

**Dr. Okorie:** What about smaller predators? Birds, things like that. 

**Parra:** Birds? 

//<He snorts.>//

**Parra:** But let me answer what you're really asking: so far as we've been able to tell, there is nothing left on this Earth, if an Earth it really is, which covers itself in edible meat.

//<He winces.>//

**Parra:** Well, of course. Almost nothing.

//<Excerpt ends.>//

[[=]]
@@ @@
[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<Excerpt begins.>//

//<Dr. Astrauskas is sitting at the kitchen table in the Pelaez household. The kitchen is cluttered with bric-a-brac, but scrubbed clean; there is green residue on the outsides of the windows, but none visible indoors. Pilar Pelaez is washing breakfast dishes.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So, this is where you were born?

**Pilar:** Yep.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What did they tell you about how the village ended up here?

//<Pilar shrugs.>//

**Pilar:** A lot, I think. 

**Dr. Astrauskas:** But not everything?

//<Pilar smiles.>//

**Pilar:** Not everything. //That,// I know.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Anything about the facility? How it works, where it came from?

**Pilar:** Just vague stuff. Enough to understand what it is, not enough to tell you anything interesting.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** How about before? Did they tell you anything about the history of the village, back in baseline?

**Pilar:** Baseline?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Earth, you called it.

//<Pilar shrugs again.>//

**Pilar:** Lots about some stuff, nothing about some other stuff. You can whistle through the holes when they talk. What are you interested in?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm interested to know how Zevala stayed hidden for so long.

**Pilar:** Same way we stay hidden now. You must have noticed how calm it is here.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So there's some kind of... field, maybe, hiding the village from the outside? Like back in baseline?

**Pilar:** No. It's not the village. It's us.

//<She drapes her washcloth over the neck of the sink, and turns to lean against the counter.>//

**Pilar:** You heard what this place is called.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Puerto Extirpado. The Severed Port.

**Pilar:** You think that means the port was severed.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** It doesn't?

//<Pilar shakes her head.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** By elimination I would guess that means it's the port of The Severed.

//<Pilar nods.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Meaning all of you. Descendants of the Prophets of the Severed Halls of Aph.

//<Pilar frowns.>//

**Pilar:** Never heard anything about that. Maybe you can tell me later.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Maybe Chief Ibanez will.

**Pilar:** I didn't get the feeling she likes me very much.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** She has good reasons to be distant right now. I think you have a lot in common, though. You'll see.

//<Pilar shrugs a third time, then turns back to resume the dishes.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** So, you were implying a connection between your people being The Severed and the environment not encroaching on you. And Zevala being protected.

**Pilar:** Yeah.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** What are your people severed from, Pilar?

//<Pilar hangs up the washcloth again, and takes a towel off a rack on the lower cabinet.>//

**Pilar:** Everybody.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** In what way?

**Pilar:** In every way.

//<She puts her hands on the edge of the sink, and stares at the water.>//

**Pilar:** I've only heard the story once. They don't like to talk about it. But we were severed for our safety.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Cut off from the collective, then? From the human race?

//<Pilar shrugs.>//

**Pilar:** I guess so. I know they were able to reverse it, some sort of ritual. They did it once.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** Why?

**Pilar:** You'll have to ask my mother.

//<She drums her fingers on the inside of the sink basin, then suddenly stops.>//

**Pilar:** Why are you staring at me like that?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** You can tell?

**Pilar:** We're real good at telling when something is watching us. It's an outsider thing. Well?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm reading your aura.

//<Pilar turns again.>//

**Pilar:** What does that mean?

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I'm a thaumaturge. I have magic powers.

//<Pilar laughs. Dr. Astrauskas laughs with her.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** I can see what mood you're in, how healthy you are. Where you're from, if I have a point of comparison. And a few other things, sometimes.

**Pilar:** What sort of other things? I'm only humouring you, by the way.

//<Dr. Astrauskas gestures, wiggling her fingers.>//

**Dr. Astrauskas:** The breaks in your Hume spirals. The little tendrils going out of you, in every direction. You all have them. Stopping just short of each other. Reaching, but never touching.

//<Pilar's brow furrows, and she reaches up to clutch her arms to her chest. She is still holding the towel.>//

**Pilar:** That's not very funny.

**Dr. Astrauskas:** No. But it's very interesting.

//<Excerpt ends.>//

[[=]]
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[[image https://scp-wiki.wdfiles.com/local--files/the-b-b-decommission/Asterisk43.png]]
@@ @@
[[/=]]

//<Excerpt begins.>//

//<Dr. McDoctorate and Ursula are standing on a narrow metal platform at the top of the windmill tower, beside the largest grain silo. He is scanning the horizon; the tall and thickly-leaved trees of the bay stretch on over the cliffs and into the far distance, where a strange haze occludes the neighbouring territories.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** This is all very interesting.

**Ursula:** We've lived interesting lives.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Have you? I don't see any evidence of that.

//<Ursula frowns.>//

**Ursula:** Then what did you mean?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** It's a very unusual biome. The spores grow thick and luminous at night. The sun illuminates everything, but it's behind a green screen. Things grow and the air is warm, gravity's the same as on Earth, and the cliffs are like a pre-erosion version of where Zevala was situated back home. It's interesting that this place exists, it's interesting we were able to access it, it's interesting that you've all survived, and I hear there's even more interesting things nearby that nobody bothers with. But as far as I can tell, the landscape isn't very different from the way it was back in baseline. Only... well, emptier.

//<Ursula nods, and wrings the handrail.>//

**Ursula:** You're not wrong. We've mostly been hanging on. It was a blow when the Facility would only make one trip. It was worse when it disappeared entirely.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** At least that was only a problem for maybe a week.

**Ursula:** More like a month.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** What?

**Ursula:** It was gone for about a month. Maybe our days are different from yours.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I don't think so. The circadian cycle seems pretty much the same. That's very odd. Is it possible the Facility needs to anchor itself, and drifts away?

**Ursula:** You tell me. You're the scientist.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Well, I only wondered if your people had more experience with it. There's some very interesting records in there. It seems like you've been connected to the Facility for a very long time.

//<She nods.>//

**Ursula:** My husband showed me the logs. He was the last Director, though of course that was just a ceremonial title by the end. Handed down through the family.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** You weren't in communication with the Foundation.

**Ursula:** No. We knew about it. We knew what the old logs told us about where it came from, what our part was in making it happen. But it wasn't our problem, in the end.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Why do you say that? How could a cycle of worlds ending not be everyone's problem?

**Ursula:** Zevala was a retreat. I mean that in every sense of the word. Our people were tired. Tired of struggling.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** You mean the Prophets.

//<Ursula gives him an appraising look.>//

**Ursula:** I'm surprised you know about them. You must have spoken to the others.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Not personally, but yes. We're in communication with Aph.

**Ursula:** Lucky you.

//<In the far distance, the trees sway. There is no wind.>//

**Ursula:** My ancestors didn't found Zevala as an act of surrender. They believed they could do something about what was going to happen. They tried very hard. It didn't work.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** So eventually you stopped trying.

**Ursula:** Yes. We hunkered down, and imagined ourselves safe.

//<She laughs harshly.>//

**Ursula:** Like a cat with its head in a paper bag. Oh.

//<She smiles.>//

**Ursula:** I miss cats. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I have to say, hunkering down doesn't sound like the sort of thing that would keep your village hidden as well as it was, for as long as it was.

**Ursula:** You're right. It was magic.

//<She makes eye contact. He stares back at her.>//

**Ursula:** I thought that might faze you.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I've been to the most magical places in the multiverse. At a run.

**Ursula:** Well. This won't sound like much to you, then. But suffice to say we have a means of making ourselves scarce, so scarce that if we were standing in the middle of that Facility, and you threw the switch, it would still leave us behind. Something in our blood that lets us reach out, or reach inside instead.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Do you still know how to do it?

**Ursula:** Of course. It's the only way we were able to come here in the first place.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** At which point I assume you... severed, yourselves again?

//<She nods.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I know the TLP targets people--

**Ursula:** The what?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** The Trans-Liminal Propulser. The machine that makes everything move.

**Ursula:** Okay.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I know it targets people, but how did you get your entire village over here? All the structures and such. Even the ruins.

**Ursula:** That's my husband's area, I'm afraid. I do know it has something to do with the grainy soil beneath our buildings. We never broke ground without spreading a layer of the stuff as a foundation.

//<She winces.>//

**Ursula:** I wish there was another word for that.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** You think that's bad? Try to think of a second word meaning 'thing that stands in for another thing'.

//<Ursula blinks, then laughs.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** The soil can't be all of it, though. I can see how some of the systems I didn't understand might target that...

//<He snaps his fingers.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Aphian. That soil was mixed with Aphian sand. Udo detected it when we were examining the bay. That makes sense. Your ancestors probably brought it over from Aph itself, when they were exiled. It'll have some sort of trans-dimensional residue the TLP can pick up on. Hume declension, most likely.

//<Ursula shrugs.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** But yeah, the Insurgency gun emplacements? The //Northern Reach?// How does the TLP target those, and bring them over?

**Ursula:** Something to do with making things uneven, but not //too// uneven. You must have seen the crazy angles we build our walls at. The town architect used to have a little manual she used to determine everything.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'd like to speak with her.

**Ursula:** Can any of your magicians do a séance?

//<He frowns.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** None of the ones we brought with us. Anyway, I guess that mostly explains it. The Insurgency's additions were hastily-constructed, and they're loopy buggers at the best of times. Caught in your net. I understand the admonition against making things too uneven, though, because otherwise you'd end up sucking up the trees and grass and probably even the water. Sifting the village from the nature. I might have designed something similar.

**Ursula:** Ah, now I understand the company you keep.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Hmm?

**Ursula:** You're a mad scientist.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I'm a mad //polymath.// My interests are wide-ranging. In fact, right now there's something else in particular I'm very interested in. It might sound strange.

**Ursula:** That's what strangers are for. We forgot that, to our misfortune.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** If one were to perform a mighty act in this place, something incredible, praiseworthy, something that would really change the world to a measurable extent, what would that be?

//<She turns to stare at him.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I don't need an answer right away. Not until I've finished some tests. But keep it in mind, okay?

**Ursula:** Okay.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Ah...

**Ursula:** Yes?

**Dr. McDoctorate:** It just occurred to me to ask. If the only living creatures the TLP targets are humans -- that's correct, right?

**Ursula:** Yes.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** --and it otherwise targets irregular shapes which aren't alive...

**Ursula:** Yes?

//<She waits for a moment, then suddenly realizes what he is getting at.>//

**Ursula:** Oh. Well, yes. They came too.

//<She points at the far side of the bay.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** And the Insurgents?

//<Wordlessly, she points down at the farms.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Ah. Aha. Very... pragmatic.

//<Silence on recording.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** What did you mean when you said that Chief Ibanez's father was gone?

**Ursula:** Just that. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Gone dead? 

**Ursula:** I wasn't sure.

**Dr. McDoctorate:** But you are now. 

**Ursula:** Yes. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Why? 

**Ursula:** Because Fina didn't know what I meant. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** I don't understand. 

**Ursula:** I thought she might have seen him. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** How? 

//<He makes a small exclamation of understanding.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** The Facility? You thought maybe he was the one who took it, when it disappeared.

//<Ursula nods.>//

**Dr. McDoctorate:** So you're saying he's disappeared too, then. He might still be alive somewhere. 

**Ursula:** No. 

**Dr. McDoctorate:** Why not? 

//<Ursula looks down, to where Chief Ibanez and a smaller figure are heading up the table to the west.>//

**Ursula:** Because if he was, that somewhere would be here.

//<Excerpt ends.>//
[[/div]]

[[include fragment:scp-8273-2]]

[[include component:image-block
    name=http://scp-sandbox-3.wdfiles.com/local--files/harry-blank-8/Zevala_Sunset.jpg|
    caption=Chief Ibanez departing from Zevala. |
    width=700px|
    align=center|
]]

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=====
[[<]]

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Most images are, incorporate, or are based on renders created by the author using owned assets in DAZ Studio and/or models created in Blender and rendered in DAZ Studio with owned shaders/textures. Said renders and their derivatives may be, and here are, released under a Creative Commons license without crediting individual assets. Assets not included in the preceding are credited as per their individual requirements. Characters created using photographic references are not intended to be likenesses.

"I Will Not Fade" is a quotation by [[*user S D Locke]] from [[[SCP-6500]]], released CC BY-SA 3.0.

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> **Filename:** 43asterisk.png
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following:

> **Name:** Philadelphia Pride Flag
> **Author:** Government of Canada
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> **Name:** Lake Huron Drainage Basin Map
> **Author:** Philadelphia City Council and Tierney
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> **Filename:** 8273.png, emptybay.jpg, ICS.jpg, Protocol_Gyrus_Final.png 
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

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> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
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> **Name:** Entrega de Libros y Casas
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
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> **Filename:** FWP.jpg, Ibanez_Gulch.jpg, Puerto_Extirpado.jpg, Swamp,jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

"I Will Not Fade" is a quotation by [[*user S D Locke]] from [[[SCP-6500]]], released CC BY-SA 3.0.

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> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
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> **Author:** NASA
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"I Will Not Fade" is a quotation by [[*user S D Locke]] from [[[SCP-6500]]], released CC BY-SA 3.0.

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> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image contains a quotation from "Paradise Regained" by John Milton, 1671, in the public domain.

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> **Author:** Art by [[*user Dino--Draws]] with render by [[*user HarryBlank]] and paper texture by Pink Sherbet Photography
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> **Filename:** Ibanez_Page.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** Entrega de Libros y Casas
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52873135526/in/album-72177720308044050 flickr]

> **Name:** Entrega de Libros y Casas
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52872556322 flickr]

> **Name:** Cultura Federal Jujuy - día 2
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52832894653 flickr]

> **Name:** Philadelphia Pride Flag
> **Author:** Government of Canada
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Philadelphia_Pride_Flag.svg Wikimedia Commons]

> **Name:** Lake Huron Drainage Basin Map
> **Author:** Philadelphia City Council and Tierney
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://www.canada.ca/en/canada-water-agency/freshwater-ecosystem-initiatives/great-lakes/great-lakes-protection/maps/lake-huron-drainage-basin.html flickr]

and imagery created for "Внутренние службы" on http://scp-ru.wikidot.com, by Osobist, released CC BY-SA 3.0: http://scp-ru.wikidot.com/list-of-foundation-s-internal-departments.

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> **Filename:** Interrogation.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** State Electricity Commission, Group of Four Men, Victoria, May 1940
> **Author:** State Electricity Commission of Australia
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/1547629 museumsvictoria.com]

> **Name:** State Electricity Commission, Group of Four Men, Victoria, May 1940
> **Author:** State Electricity Commission of Australia
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/1547640 museumsvictoria.com]

> **Name:** Photograph - Presentation of Phar Lap's Melbourne Cup, Flemington Racecourse, Victoria, 4 Nov 1930
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://collections.museumsvictoria.com.au/items/1742444 museumsvictoria.com]

> **Name:** Entrega de Libros y Casas
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52872556322 flickr]

> **Name:** Cultura Federal Jujuy - día 2
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52832894653 flickr]

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> **Filename:** Placeholder.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** ice cream
> **Author:** richkidsunite
> **License:** CC BY 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/89186997@N00/3502548918 flickr]

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> **Name:** PS.png
> **Author:** osobist
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0
> **Source:** [http://scp-ru.wikidot.com/list-of-foundation-s-internal-departments SCP-RU]

----

> **Filename:** Stranger.jpg
> **Author:** ffish.asia / floraZia.com and [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** Public Domain

This image is composed in part of the following model sources:

> **Name:** CC0 ナンバンギセル Forest Ghost Flower, A. indica
> **Author:** ffish.asia / floraZia.com 
> **Source:** [https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/cc0-forest-ghost-flower-a-indica-485a582b8b7a4c8f947a559de4f9a274 sketchfab]

> **Name:** CC0 ウメ Japanese Apricot, Prunus mume
> **Author:** ffish.asia / floraZia.com 
> **Source:** [https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/cc0-japanese-apricot-prunus-mume-45874734e4a64fc6938b3d58b50fd1e9 sketchfab]]

> **Name:** CC0 ワラビ Western Bracken Fern
> **Author:** ffish.asia / floraZia.com 
> **Source:** [https://sketchfab.com/3d-models/cc0-western-bracken-fern-b2b5ca12ed004ca18507d0de066208b5 sketchfab]]

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> **Filename:** Terminarch.svg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** Human skull side details right
> **Author:** LadyofHats Mariana Ruiz Villarreal
> **License:** Public Domain
> **Source:** [https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Human_skull_side_details_right.svg Wikimedia Commons]

----

> **Filename:** TLE_V8.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

"I Will Not Fade" is a quotation by [[*user S D Locke]] from [[[SCP-6500]]], released CC BY-SA 3.0.

----

> **Filename:** Wives.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** portrait | vale triste?
> **Author:** Andrea Fistetto
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/andreafis/2894689596 flickr]

> **Name:** Valentina
> **Author:** Andrea Fistetto
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/andreafis/6837642131 flickr]

> **Name:** vale solare
> **Author:** Andrea Fistetto
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/andreafis/2810284003 flickr]

----

> **Filename:** Zevala_Sunset.jpg
> **Author:** [[*user HarryBlank]]
> **License:** CC BY-SA 3.0

This image is a derivative of the following reference material:

> **Name:** Entrega de Libros y Casas
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52872556322 flickr]

> **Name:** Cultura Federal Jujuy - día 2
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52832894653 flickr]

The following was an early reference for this image but appears in no way in the final product:

> **Name:** Cultura Federal Jujuy - día 2
> **Author:** Romina Santarelli/Ministerio de Cultura de la Nación
> **License:** CC BY-SA 2.0
> **Source:** [https://www.flickr.com/photos/culturaargentina/52832850900 flickr]

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