SCP-9070

Link to article: SCP-9070.


.o5 { white-space: nowrap; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; }
.o5 .alt { display: none; }
.o5:hover .main,
.o5:focus-visible .main,
.o5:active .main { display: none; }
.o5:hover .alt,
.o5:focus-visible .alt,
.o5:active .alt { display: inline; }

.o5-1 { color:#9C0505; }

.o5-2 { color:#1E88E5; }

.o5-3 { color:#FFC107; }

.o5-4 { color:#8ABECC; }

.o5-5 { color:#5c1fbf; }

.o5-6 { color:#36D1C2; }

.o5-7 { color:#692020; }

.o5-8 { color:#FF8A53; }

.o5-9 { color:#776765; }

.o5-10 { color:#B38C65; }

.o5-11 { color:#729018; }

.o5-12 { color:#84276D; }

.o5-13 { color:#C6D6B2; }


@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Intel+One+Mono:ital,wght@0,300..700;1,300..700&display=swap');

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Newsreader:ital,opsz,wght@0,6..72,200..800;1,6..72,200..800&display=swap');

div.file-class {
  font-family: "Intel One Mono", monospace;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-headline-font {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-headline-class {
  border-style: none;
  border-width: 5px;
  border-color: #2F323A;
  color: #2F323A;
  background-color: #D4AB3B;
  margin-bottom: 0;
}

div.news-font {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-class {
  border-style: solid;
  border-width: 5px;
  border-color: #E0D2C3;
  color: #E0D2C3;
  background-color: #570909;
  margin-top: 0;
}

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Cinzel+Decorative:wght@400;700;900&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Almendra:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&display=swap');
.cinzel-decorative-regular {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

.cinzel-decorative-bold {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.cinzel-decorative-black {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 900;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-regular {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 600;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-bold {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-regular-italic {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: italic;
}

.almendra-bold-italic {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: italic;
}

div.darknetMain { 
  font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;
  border: 3px double #3CBBB1; 
  border-radius: 10px; 
  color: #C4CBCA; 
  background-color: #1B1C1B
  padding: 15px; 
}

div.darknet { 
  font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;
  border: 3px double #3CBBB1; 
  border-radius: 10px; 
  color: #C4CBCA; 
  background-color: #0A0F0D 
  padding:15px; 
  margin-bottom: 20px;
}

@import url('https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/sevencix/Story%2BScript.css');
.story {
  font-family: "Story Script", sans-serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=Libre+Baskerville:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400&display=swap');
.libre-baskerville-regular {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

.libre-baskerville-bold {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.libre-baskerville-regular-italic {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: italic;
}

@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=Newsreader:ital,opsz,wght@0,6..72,200..800;1,6..72,200..800&display=swap');
.newsreader {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

h1 {
  
font-family: 'Garamond', serif;
font-size: 76px;

}

@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=IM+Fell+Great+Primer+SC&display=swap');
.great {
  font-family: "IM Fell Great Primer SC", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}


.demonB {
  font-weight: bolder;
  color: #5382ad;
  text-shadow: 2px 2px #0d242e;
}

.demonG {
  font-weight: bolder;
  color: #59ad53;
  text-shadow: 2px 2px #0d2e10;
}


#toc a {
    margin-bottom: 4px;
}

#toc-list div {
    margin-bottom: 8px;
}

#page-content #toc {
  position: absolute;
  right: 2px;
  clip-path: inset(0 0 0 calc(100% - 9px));
  transition: 0.3s ease-in;
  z-index: 3;
  max-height: 18em;
  overflow-y: scroll;
  border-right: none;
}

#page-content #toc:hover {
  clip-path: inset(0);
  border-right: solid 1px rgb(var(--toc-border-color));
}

.danger-diamond a {
  display: none!important;
}

#toc-list::before {
  content: "";
  height: 100rem;
  width: 9px;
  background-color: rgb(var(--link-color));
  display: block;
  position: absolute;
  right: 0;
  top: 0;
  transition: 0.8s ease-in;
}

#toc:hover #toc-list::before {
  height: 0;
  transition: 0s;
}

#toc-list {
  height: 100%;
}

#toc-action-bar a {
    display: none;
}

#page-content {
  position: relative;
  padding: 16px;
}

#page-title {
display: none !important;
}

```
float: left
```

background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

border-style: simple; border-width: 3px; border-color: #c1c1c1

```
margin-top: -20px
```

background-color: #423b22; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; border-color: #241e0c; border-width: 5px

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

```
background-color: #403f3d
```

border-style: solid; border-color: #333333; border-width: 4px;

```
background-color: #403f3d
```

border-style: solid; border-color: #333333; border-width: 4px;

```
background-color: #403f3d
```

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

```
margin-top: -20px
```

background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD;border: 3px double #CC2936; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #b0a99d; font-size: 20px

```
color: #171716
```

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #1b2113;color: #c0cfae;text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff;padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

color: #B8DBFF; background-color: #09061C; border-color: #8B2635; border-style: dashed dashed dashed solid; border-width: 10px 10px 10px 25px;padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

```
margin-top: -20px
```
```
color: #09061C
```
```
color: #09061C
```

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #1b171f;color: #998049;text-shadow: 0px 0px #2d0d4f;border: 5px groove #b5913c; padding: 15px

font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace; color: #07FFFA; background-color: #053A39; border-radius: 10px; border-width: 5px; border-style: dashed none none none 5px; border-color: #07FFFA; font-size: 12; background-image: repeating-linear-gradient(#0000, #07FFFA33 4px, #0000 4px); backdrop-filter: blur(0.5px);

```
font-size:9px; margin-bottom: -20px
```
```
font-size:9px; margin-bottom: -20px;
```

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #bdac8f;color: #1c1b0e;border: 2px solid #4a4a4a

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

font-family: FreeMono, monospace; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; font-size: 16px

font-family: FreeMono, monospace; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; font-size: 16px

background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD; border: 3px double #CC2936; padding: 15px; margin-bottom: 10px

background-color: #bfb79f;color: #211313;border: 7px outset #211313;border-radius: 4px

background-color: #242022;color: d4a9be;text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000

background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD;border: 3px double #CC2936; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #3a124f;color: #c1bcc4;border: 10px groove #aba393; border-radius: 5px; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

background-color: #3b3104; text-shadow: 2px 1px #000000

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

color: #374649; background-color: #BAA71D; margin-bottom: 0

background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;margin-top: -50px;

background-color: #1A0500; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #000000; color: #B4979F;border-color: #C2847A; border-style: groove; border-width: 5px; padding:15px

```
font-size: 40px
```
```
font-size: 20px; margin-top 2px
```
```
font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;
```

border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;

border-style: simple; border-width: 3px; border-color: #c1c1c1

```
margin-top: -20px
```

background-color: #bfb79f;color: #211313;border: 7px outset #211313;border-radius: 4px

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blockquote
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```
almendra-bold
```

=====

[[include component:preview
text="Without anomalies, we wouldn't have a reason to go to war."
]]

=====

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:basalt darkmode=a|acs-itemnum=a]]

[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
**SCP-9070:** True Normalcy
**Author:** [[*user Sevencix]]
have a wonderful day

-76

[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]

[[module css]]

.o5 { white-space: nowrap; line-height: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; }
.o5 .alt { display: none; }
.o5:hover .main,
.o5:focus-visible .main,
.o5:active .main { display: none; }
.o5:hover .alt,
.o5:focus-visible .alt,
.o5:active .alt { display: inline; }

.o5-1 { color:#9C0505; }

.o5-2 { color:#1E88E5; }

.o5-3 { color:#FFC107; }

.o5-4 { color:#8ABECC; }

.o5-5 { color:#5c1fbf; }

.o5-6 { color:#36D1C2; }

.o5-7 { color:#692020; }

.o5-8 { color:#FF8A53; }

.o5-9 { color:#776765; }

.o5-10 { color:#B38C65; }

.o5-11 { color:#729018; }

.o5-12 { color:#84276D; }

.o5-13 { color:#C6D6B2; }

[[/module]]

[[module css]]

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Intel+One+Mono:ital,wght@0,300..700;1,300..700&display=swap');

@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Newsreader:ital,opsz,wght@0,6..72,200..800;1,6..72,200..800&display=swap');

div.file-class {
  font-family: "Intel One Mono", monospace;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-headline-font {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-headline-class {
  border-style: none;
  border-width: 5px;
  border-color: #2F323A;
  color: #2F323A;
  background-color: #D4AB3B;
  margin-bottom: 0;
}

div.news-font {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

div.news-class {
  border-style: solid;
  border-width: 5px;
  border-color: #E0D2C3;
  color: #E0D2C3;
  background-color: #570909;
  margin-top: 0;
}


[[/module]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Cinzel+Decorative:wght@400;700;900&display=swap');
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Almendra:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&display=swap');
.cinzel-decorative-regular {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

.cinzel-decorative-bold {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.cinzel-decorative-black {
  font-family: "Cinzel Decorative", serif;
  font-weight: 900;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-regular {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 600;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-bold {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.almendra-regular-italic {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: italic;
}

.almendra-bold-italic {
  font-family: "Almendra", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: italic;
}

div.darknetMain { 
  font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;
  border: 3px double #3CBBB1; 
  border-radius: 10px; 
  color: #C4CBCA; 
  background-color: #1B1C1B
  padding: 15px; 
}

div.darknet { 
  font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;
  border: 3px double #3CBBB1; 
  border-radius: 10px; 
  color: #C4CBCA; 
  background-color: #0A0F0D 
  padding:15px; 
  margin-bottom: 20px;
}

[[/module]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://scp-sandbox-3.wikidot.com/local--files/sevencix/Story%2BScript.css');
.story {
  font-family: "Story Script", sans-serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=Libre+Baskerville:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400&display=swap');
.libre-baskerville-regular {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

.libre-baskerville-bold {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 700;
  font-style: normal;
}

.libre-baskerville-regular-italic {
  font-family: "Libre Baskerville", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: italic;
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=Newsreader:ital,opsz,wght@0,6..72,200..800;1,6..72,200..800&display=swap');
.newsreader {
  font-family: "Newsreader", serif;
  font-optical-sizing: auto;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}

[[/module]]

[[module css]]
h1 {
  
font-family: 'Garamond', serif;
font-size: 76px;

}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]
@import url('https://api.fonts.coollabs.io/css2?family=IM+Fell+Great+Primer+SC&display=swap');
.great {
  font-family: "IM Fell Great Primer SC", serif;
  font-weight: 400;
  font-style: normal;
}
[[/module]]

[[module css]]

.demonB {
  font-weight: bolder;
  color: #5382ad;
  text-shadow: 2px 2px #0d242e;
}

.demonG {
  font-weight: bolder;
  color: #59ad53;
  text-shadow: 2px 2px #0d2e10;
}

[[/module]]

[[module css]]

#toc a {
    margin-bottom: 4px;
}

#toc-list div {
    margin-bottom: 8px;
}

#page-content #toc {
  position: absolute;
  right: 2px;
  clip-path: inset(0 0 0 calc(100% - 9px));
  transition: 0.3s ease-in;
  z-index: 3;
  max-height: 18em;
  overflow-y: scroll;
  border-right: none;
}

#page-content #toc:hover {
  clip-path: inset(0);
  border-right: solid 1px rgb(var(--toc-border-color));
}

.danger-diamond a {
  display: none!important;
}

#toc-list::before {
  content: "";
  height: 100rem;
  width: 9px;
  background-color: rgb(var(--link-color));
  display: block;
  position: absolute;
  right: 0;
  top: 0;
  transition: 0.8s ease-in;
}

#toc:hover #toc-list::before {
  height: 0;
  transition: 0s;
}

#toc-list {
  height: 100%;
}

#toc-action-bar a {
    display: none;
}

#page-content {
  position: relative;
  padding: 16px;
}

#page-title {
display: none !important;
}

[[/module]]

[[div style="float: left"]]
[[toc]]
[[/div]]

[[div]]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:anomaly-class-bar-source
|item-number= 9070
|clearance= 3
|container-class= keter
|secondary-class= uncontained
|disruption-class= keneq
|risk-class= notice
]]
[[/div]]

-----

[[include component:image-block image
|name=scp-9000points.png
|caption=Locations of SCP-9070-Alpha, -Beta, -Gamma, -Delta and -Epsilon.
|width=350px
|align=right
]]
**Special Containment Procedures:** Available resources are to be focused on securing SCP-9070 child instances.

By available means, normist organizations must be prevented from capturing any SCP-9070 child instance. Any suspected move to do so must be met with lethal interception.

**Description:** SCP-9070 was an explosion of thaumaturgic energy that originated from eastern Qeqqeta, Greenland at 11:23 UTC on the 26th of June, 2025. It expanded to an estimated radius of 200,000 to 350,000 kilometers from its point of origin and passed through most materials without resistance. It fully permeated through Earth at a point approximately 400-500 kilometers north of Concordia Station, Antarctica 1 minute and 32 seconds after its manifestation. 

SCP-9070's main anomalous property was the disappearance of and/or the complete neutralization of anomalous effects and objects it passed through for approximately 11 seconds on average. It remained undetected by non-anomalous measuring equipment.

As a result of this effect, several anomalous methods of containment and travel became irrevocably damaged and must be restored from their initial stages. It is currently poorly understood what causes anomalies to be temporarily disrupted as opposed to permanently. Examples of these include:

* Several standardized containment cells;
* Spatial fissures, artificial or otherwise;
* Memetic and antimemetic veiling thaumaturgy and technology.

The secondary effect was the creation of child instances, respectively known as SCP-9070-Alpha, -Beta, -Gamma, -Delta and -Epsilon, which manifested immediately upon SCP-9070's activation. These child instances were triangulated by Scranton Wave Disruptions[[footnote]] Often abbreviated as SWD, a Scranton Wave Disruption is the emission or transmission of anti-anomalous energy in the form of wave or particles moving through space or a material medium. It is typically emitted by Scranton Reality Anchors. [[/footnote]] detected by Foundation Hume biotechnical sensoriums on a global scale.

Each SCP-9070 child instance is engraved with a message written in Latin from an individual identifying themselves as "Contranumen". While the exact anomalous properties of these pillars are currently unknown, individuals who are A) equipped with paratechnology[[footnote]] Individuals with anomalous implants and prosthetics were affected, as well as individuals equipped with anomalous items.[[/footnote]] or B) possess anomalous properties[[footnote]] E.g. reality benders, thaumaturges. [[/footnote]] have reported difficulty concentrating in the sites' proximity.

**UPDATE:** SCP-9070's child instances can be manipulated by Exacratus[[footnote]] Designation referring to phenomena colloquially known as "curses". [[/footnote]]-class thaumaturges to obtain True Normalcy. Due to this, the Recordkeeping and Information Security Administration (RAISA) is currently deliberating upgrading SCP-9070 from Ekhi to Keneq Disruption Class.

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-0-1:** O5 Council meeting regarding SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[=]]
//June 26th 2025 12:36 UTC[[footnote]] https://www.timeanddate.com/time/aboututc.html [[/footnote]]//
+++* 1 HOUR AND 13 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
[[=image Conference_Room_Irvine_Tax_Solutions.jpg size="medium" style="border-style: simple; border-width: 3px; border-color: #c1c1c1"]]

[[div style="margin-top: -20px"]]
[[=]]
^^//Site-01 O5 Council primary meeting room prior to the destruction caused in the wake of SCP-9070.//^^
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

**FOREWORD:** The following emergency meeting has been made available to all personnel with Security Clearance 3 and above in the interest of securing coherent and quick action. Audio and video were recorded through [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] due to a lack of recording equipment in the O5 Command Room.

------

**In attendance:** [[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]. 
**Absent with clarity:** [[span class="o5 o5-1" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]][[span class="o5 o5-1" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-1[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Anomaly[[/span]][[/span]][[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Anomaly[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-3" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-3[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Physicist[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-7" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-7[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Chemist[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-8" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-8[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Biologist[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-9" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-9[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Rocker[[/span]][[/span]].
**Absent without clarity:** [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]][[footnote]] Last known location is Sisimiut, Greenland. It is assumed that [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]] is alive and well due to his proficiency with thaumaturgy in combat. [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]] has recently formed MTF Alpha-24 "Four Hands", who is assumed to be contributing to [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]'s safety. [[/footnote]], [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]][[footnote]] Last known location is New York City, United States of America. [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] is assumed to be located in her personal safehouse, although her current condition is unknown. [[/footnote]], [[span class="o5 o5-12" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-12[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Consul[[/span]][[/span]][[footnote]] Last known location is unknown. [[span class="o5 o5-12" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-12[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Consul[[/span]][[/span]] has been attending personal matters for the past 43 days. [[/footnote]]

------

//<[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] and [[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] are seated in their respective seats. [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] forcefully enters the room and slams the door behind him. He leaves behind traces of blood on the door.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Alright, seems like good old Site-01 is burned. Concealing paratech failed, like anything else.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] takes off his blazer and tosses it into the corner of the room. The antimemetic effect that hides [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]'s appearance//
[[footnote]] Through implants, all Overseers' appearance can be antimemetically modified so that their exact features cannot be distinguished. Due to the Shrouded Sheperds Act, an Overseer's identity and appearance must be hidden, including from other Overseers. [[/footnote]] //is nullified for the blazer as it leaves the effective range. It is visibly covered in blood.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Goodness Eleven, what in the heavens happened to you?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] begins to stand up, but sits down after [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] gestures for her to sit.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Oh, lay off. These were simply some... internal affairs with the on-site personnel that needed immediate attention.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I assume the site personnel have gone to greener pastures? You do have a knack for that.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] scoffs.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Do you mean to imply that the Red Right Hand had opportunistic traitors within the ranks?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] blows smoke out of his nostrils.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'd imagine not, given the time it took to stabilize and reboot the reality anchors, chances are our loyal... henchmen simply fell to some Serpent's Hand or Children of the Scarlet King trickery.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] scratches their nails against the table, leaving inch-deep marks that have traces of blood left behind. Shortly after, his hand phases through the table, prompting him to cease the activity.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** They will be remembered fondly. Is the threat handled?

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** With three fireaxes, a dozen kitchen knives and a trident.

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Good. I've overreached my position a bit and already activated all standing and auxiliary forces, as per request of [[span class="o5 o5-1" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-1[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Anomaly[[/span]][[/span]].

//<[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] shuffles uncomfortably.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** They should be standing by as we speak.

//The room is silent for 3 seconds. [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] places her head in her hands.//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Wonderful, with that out of the way -- Thirteen, did you have a report for us?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] takes a deep breath and presses a button under the table. A holographic map of the Earth fades in over the duration of 6 seconds, with 5 red dots scattered throughout the surface of the Earth.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** Roughly an hour ago, two satellites- one orbiting the Earth and the other her moon- observed a combustion of reality anchoring energy originating from Greenland. Much to the benefit of our entire operation, this wasn't detected by any overveil authorities or institutes.

//[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] takes off his glasses, making the eyewear perceivable to the other overseers. It is presumed that [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] noticed that the purple glass has been severely fractured and mutters something inaudible under his breath. He tosses the glasses aside.//

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** As far as we are-

//<[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] coughs into his sleeve and expels black smoke from his lungs.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Look, Thirteen. Even if your report is incredible, I do not feel the need to be reminded of it 6 minutes after reading it.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] inhales sharply and tosses his notes onto the table.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** What the hell even caused this amount of energy? Don't we have equipment for detecting this //before// it happens?

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** It's not like the efforts in the Arctic have been entirely up to code. And that's not accounting for bureaucracy, incompetence and corruption.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] inhales sharply and glances to [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] with a literal steel expression.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** A lonely site up north with little activity would be perfect for relaxed protocol and mismanagement of funds.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] eyes [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] up and down, who in turn tilts his head.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Let's... handle that at another time. Do we have any personnel in Greenland that can act swiftly?

//[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] picks up the discarded notes again and flips through 9 pages.//

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'm afraid that as of right now we only have a geology outpost and-- well-- [https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/handholding the remaining Red Right Hand tryouts we sent to Greenland], totaling eight personnel in Greenland, Four included.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] closes his eyes for a little longer than a blink. [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] turns her head towards the visible blood left behind by [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] on the door. [[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] looks through the same nine pages again in an exasperated manner.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I trust Four to handle Greenland. For me, the most pressing issue remains the pillars that have been reported.

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** I do not find the fog of war regarding anomalous instances spawned after a once-in-a-century event acceptable. The neutralizing blast made it past the Moon, whatever it has left behind should be assumed to be of equally awesome energy.

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Right, well. Most of our personnel are currently fighting off surprise raids by the Serpent's Hand, Chaos Insurgency, at least three rogue chapters of the Broken Church, at least a single Daevite warlord, encouraged SCP-1000 instances with a mind for revenge and quite possibly extraterrestrial travelers whose ship got knocked out of the sky by SCP-9070. And that is not to mention the currently confirmed hundreds of containment breaches, as well as the unconfirmed ones, the theoretical ones and potentially ones we're incapable of remembering.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** We're paralyzed.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] sighs. He draws his sidearm and discharges it towards a seemingly random spot on the wall. Blood splatter appears on the wall, and the sound of a body dropping to the floor can be heard.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** And compromised. Standard emergency procedure, we'll regroup tomorrow. Six?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]], who had started to collect the papers in front of her, pauses.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** I direly need someone to get ahead on securing those pillars. Get some usable people on this, anyone available.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'll do my best. Godspeed, friends.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] acquires two pistols from under his seat and leaves through the main door. [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] disappears in a black cloud of smoke. [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] folds into an impossibly small, arachnid-shaped form with audible mechanical whirling and departs the room through a crack in the wall. [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] retrieves three hunting knives from under his designated part of the table and climbs up an invisible ladder to the above floor. [[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] phases through the floor below.>//

//<The holographic display of Earth flickers before turning off.>//

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]

+ Document 1: Alpha Pillar

[[/=]]

-----

[[div class="blockquote cinzel-decorative-regular" style="background-color: #423b22; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; border-color: #241e0c; border-width: 5px"]]
I have forsaken the name granted to me by parents and lineage, for as of this vow I will embark on my life's mission; The equity of the downtrodden and the well-born. For this purpose, I am taking on the moniker of Contranumen.

It is my belief that those who wield enhanced power, blessed by lineage or fortune, hold positions granted to them by Divinity, yet they see their advantage as self-obtained. They believe themselves masters when they've inherited a stoneworker's fine tools.

I will set out into the world and learn of how civilizations handle this matter. As I was informed by my father, a man of many a successful campaign and grand wealth, look to the horizons when an issue seems insurmountable. So I shall travel the world and seek the philosophers of the lands beyond to humbly request their wisdom.

I've packed many a gift for barter and appreciation, and I shall hope that the wise men of the world will meet me with the kindness I beseech them for.

For the common man.

**-Contranumen**
[[/div]]

----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-1:** Vestergaard and Wrenna's Assignment and Briefing
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 7 HOURS AND 2 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

Sgt. Thorstein Vestergaard and Dr. George Wrenna were selected by [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] to secure SCP-9070-Alpha due to relevant combat experience and anomalous capabilities. Following [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]'s arrival to Site-14, Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna were ordered to report to the site director's office.

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Video and audio was recorded from onsite security cameras installed in the Administrative Wing of Site-14.

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Sgt. Thorstein Vestergaard and Dr. George Wrenna are sitting in the waiting area outside Site Director Grenn's office. Sgt. Vestergaard wears a white shirt and brown suit pants held up with suspenders. His attire is covered in holes, soot and blood. Dr. Wrenna wears a sterile lab coat, latex gloves and protective eyewear.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** You've... been busy?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard slowly cants his head towards Wrenna. He raises his eyebrows and smiles, seemingly tired.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** No, just peachy, I just decided to throw on my clothes from the Great Fire of 1666 to see if I still fit into them.

**Dr. Wrenna:** ... //Right//.

//<A loud crash can be heard. The waiting room shakes violently. Neither Vestergaard nor Wrenna comments on this.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** So what could they possibly want with the two of us, mh? Are you being a pushover again and dragging me into things to help you out?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard leans back in the chair and stares into the wall ahead. Dr. Wrenna rolls his eyes and sighs.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Your idea of what counts as a pushover is aged, man.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** What, did having a spine fall out of fashion in the last century or something?

**Dr. Wrenna:** Yeah, sure. So did the whole //macho// trend. You've had centuries to get with the times, why not catch up?

//Sgt. Vestergaard scoffs. The door to the site director's office opens, revealing an entity that is antimemetically concealed. It gestures Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna inside.//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Well. That's new.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard stands and draws his sidearm. He idly keeps it at his side in clear violation of Foundation gun safety guidelines.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** You're going to have to identify yourself, sir.

//<Dr. Wrenna removes his protective eyewear and tosses it to the side with one hand and loosens his tie with his other hand.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** You may fire if you so please, but I'd prefer if you'd skip the unnecessary violence. It's not like I can easily harm either of you. Nor can you touch me.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna exchange a glance. Sgt. Vestergaard discharges his sidearm towards [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]'s torso 4 times. The bullets break on impact. Sgt. Vestergaard mouths out a quiet "oh" and lowers his sidearm, enabling the safety on it. Notably, there is no record of him disabling the safety.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Curious. Though I do hope that you'd relent on your mystique a bit, it's a rather tired personality quirk these days.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] steps inside the site director's office and removes something antimemetically concealed from her head, which in turn reveals her appearance. In place of hair, she has a collection of wires that terminates in a multitude of plugs and adapter ports. She is wearing a business suit with folded up sleeves, revealing her metallic arms. From the last bend of her fingers and below she has a rubber-like substance making up her digits, her jaw is made of the same material. Everything above said jaw and beneath her hairline appears to be human skin.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Oh my.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Church of the Broken God member, perhaps one of the day-shy Steelchain 
Daggers[[footnote]] Dr. Wrenna appears to refer to a subsect of the Church of the Broken God whose primary directive is intelligence and neutralization of hostile targets. According to common consensus, the Steelchain Daggers are supposed to be capable of masking any sound they or their equipment emit with mechanical or digital sounds that'd be common to the surrounding area. The Foundation has yet to observe verifiable accounts of the Steelchain Daggers. Dr. Wrenna appears to have gained this information from the Parawatch forums. [[/footnote]]?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] flares her nostrils and shakes her head. She sits down behind the site director's desk, and gestures to the two chairs in front of the desk.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Not quite. I am Overseer Six. Please step inside and close the door behind you, I have matters of grave importance to discuss with you.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna exchange another glance and move to sit at the designated seats, seemingly hesitantly. Sgt. Vestergaard places his sidearm in his lap and leans back in the chair. Dr. Wrenna removes the plastic gloves he was wearing and tosses them into a bin next to the desk.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Now then-

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** One moment, I'm going to need verification of your position, supposed Overseer.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] sighs and reaches inside of her suit to retrieve two files, one of them labelled VESTERGAARD, THORSTEIN and the other WRENNA, GEORGE WILLIAM. Dr. Wrenna inhales sharply.>//
[[collapsible show="📎 ATTACHED FILE: VESTERGAARD, THORSTEIN PERSONNEL FILE" hide="📎 CLOSE ATTACHMENT: VESTERGAARD, THORSTEIN PERSONNEL FILE"]]
[[div class="blockquote file-class" style="background-color: #403f3d"]]
[[f>image Alexander%20Murray%20%287788034986%29%20cropped.png size="small" style="border-style: solid; border-color: #333333; border-width: 4px;"]]
**NAME(S):** Vestergaard, Thorstein
**AGE:** 26*
**SEX:** [REDACTED AS PER THE PROGRESSIVE FOUNDATION ACT OF 2021] 
• **Chosen Gender:** Male
• **Chosen Pronouns:** He/Him/His
**SPECIES:** Human*
**DATE OF BIRTH (IF APPLICABLE):** Unknown. NOTE: VESTERGAARD assumes mid to late 1760s.

**SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S):** Danish, English and German
**EDUCATION:** None
**EXPERTISE:** Former Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. operative (83 years of experience), Foundation armed forces (6 years of experience), infiltration expert

**CURRENT POSITION:** Sergeant of Mobile Task Force Gamma-22 ("Cosmos Tranquility"), Site-14 emergency security officer

**DISCIPLINARY LOG:** [Removed due to file limitations, see File G-22-03-DISC for more information.]

**HISTORY:** While VESTERGAARD has not disclosed the origin of his anomaly, something that was disallowed at his time of entry into the Foundation[[footnote]] Later overturned by the Wettle-Sokolsky Right to Personal Origins Act of 2023. [[/footnote]], he has been very cooperative communicating his background. He was born and raised in Denmark and moved to London during the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. He claims to have spent much of his time in the organized crime environments of London, which lead to him being employed by MAXIMILLIAN CARTER in 1860.

He spent the duration of his association with Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. as one of CARTER's numerous enforcers. Due to an oath VESTERGAARD claims to have taken, he refuses to divulge information regarding this period in time.

[THE REMAINING INFORMATION IS ONLY AVAILABLE TO PERSONNEL WITH CLEARANCE LEVEL 3 AND ABOVE, AND HAS THUS BEEN REMOVED.]

**ADDITIONAL NOTES:** VESTERGAARD possess anomalous traits that allow his body to regenerate from and survive any injury he sustains. Upon circumstances where a mundane human will expire, his anomaly will start regenerating his body and revive him over a course of roughly half a minute to five minutes, depending on the severity of the injuries. VESTERGAARD often forces this effect to manifest through self-termination.

*: Due to VESTERGAARD's anomaly, it is unclear what precise age he is, but functionally appears as a 26 year old human male.

[[/div]]

[[/collapsible]]
[[collapsible show="📎 ATTACHED FILE: WRENNA, GEORGE WILLIAM PERSONNEL FILE" hide="📎 CLOSE ATTACHMENT: WRENNA, GEORGE WILLIAM PERSONNEL FILE"]]
[[div class="blockquote file-class" style="background-color: #403f3d"]]
[[f>image Mugshot_Portrait_Photo_User_Vasyalstnv_Left_Front.jpg size="small" style="border-style: solid; border-color: #333333; border-width: 4px;"]]
**NAME(S):** Wrenna, George William
**AGE:** 33
**SEX:** [REDACTED AS PER THE PROGRESSIVE FOUNDATION ACT OF 2021] 
• **Chosen Gender:** Genderfluid (Genderfaun)
• **Chosen Pronouns:** He/Him/His OR They/Them/Their
**SPECIES:** Human
**DATE OF BIRTH (IF APPLICABLE):** May 11th 1992

**SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S):** English
**EDUCATION:** PhD in Inorganic Chemistry, Master's Degree in Microbiology
**EXPERTISE:** Biochemist (5 years of experience), Foundation researcher (2 years of expertise)

**CURRENT POSITION:** Researcher under Department of Chemistry

**DISCIPLINARY LOG:** N/A

**HISTORY:** WRENNA came into contact with the anomalous through the Parawatch forums and later the "Gamers Against Weed" Group of Interest. They have otherwise gone through mundane upbringing until being handpicked by the Foundation while studying for their PhD in Inorganic Chemistry.

**ADDITIONAL NOTES:** WRENNA possess an anomalous trait that combusts, vaporizes, disintegrates or otherwise invalidates any non-biological material or force of a damaging nature upon making contact with them. This allows WRENNA to remain unharmed even when making direct contact to molten granite or when impacting the ground from terminal velocity. Notably, they can still be harmed by living or dead entities.

[[/div]]
[[/collapsible]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ... You could've stolen those.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Vestergaard, with all the due respect I am capable of, we both know who I am.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Eh. Whatever, fine. Sorry for threatening you with a gun.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard holsters his sidearm and folds his hands.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** All part of the position, dearest.

**Dr. Wrenna:** I've been... subject to lava?

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I believe the technical term is magma, Doctor.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Oh.

//<Dr. Wrenna squints.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** So you need two invincible friends for something, did you run out of meatbags to throw at a problem?

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Not quite. There are many problems that the Foundation is currently handling after the brief disruption of anomalies. 12% of the blind population were briefly able to see again, Finland sank for the duration of SCP-9070 and we're pretty sure that Planet X's antimemetic properties were interrupted long enough for at least three observatories to have acquired picture proof of its existence.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Ah, yes. I've been busy managing instantaneously manifesting quicksilver over in Chemistry, it's quite a mess.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I heard Site-03 is busy dealing with escapees from the Werewolf Pit.

//<Dr. Wrenna sighs deeply. [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] nods in confirmation.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Overall, quite a mess. So, we're sending you out on some... fieldwork.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] retrieves a map from her jacket and rolls it out on the desk. It shows the regions of Antarctica.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** You're both strong gentlemen. You can handle a bit of cold, as well as potential encounters with Insurgents. So, we're sending you on a field trip to investigate and secure SCP-9070-Alpha.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard inhales deeply in an exaggerated manner. He reaches for his sidearm again, though ceases doing so after a few seconds. Dr. Wrenna covers his eyes with his hand and removes his tie with the other.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** When are we leaving?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] looks at her wrist, it has no watch.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** As of the start of this meeting, your jet bound for Antarctica departs in 30 minutes.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I-- well, how do I put thi-

**Dr. Wrenna:** Fucking //what//?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] places two standardized complaint forms on the table and smiles politely.>//

[A 14 minute segment of Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna filing numerous complaints has been cut due to the Secrets, Confidentiality, Privacy policy of 2008.]

**<END LOG>**
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-2:** Excerpt regarding the underveil Antarctica political situation
[[/=]]

-----

[[div class="blockquote" style="background-color: #403f3d"]]
[[=]]
**INTELLIGENCE ANALYSIS ON THE ANOMALOUS GEOPOLITICAL SITUATION OF ANTARCTICA**
//by the Department of Intelligence & Surveillance//
[[/=]]
-----
[...]

Due to Antarctica's rough winters and lack of population, many groups of interest have underground storages, safehouses and outposts that are well concealed underground or under mountains. As part of Operation ████████, it was discovered that there are roughly 100-120 subveil-made structures of human origin, and around 70-100 structures of inhuman origin located in Antarctica.

Skirmishes are a common phenomenon throughout the Antarctic winter, with an estimated 15-20 incidents per winter. These are typically the result of securing supplies, commandeering valuable anomalies, materials or substances or simply for territorial control. The Foundation sites are advised to only defend sites, unless the chain of supply has been broken, in which case it is permitted under the Right to Survive Act of 1988 to engage isolated sites suspected of containing supplies. However, the Foundation's identity must never be revealed during these operations.

-----

[[=image AntarcticaDomeCSnow.jpg size="medium"]]
[[=]]
^^//Area colloquially known as "The Field of War" due to 3 underground structures respectively controlled by the Global Occult Coalition, the Chaos Insurgency and the Church of the Broken God. Allegedly these sites serve as divine ice mines with tunnels connecting the sites.//^^
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-3:** Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna's arrival to Antarctica
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 14 HOURS AND 43 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

Dr. Wrenna was given a prototype surveillance drone to document their mission. Its sound and appearance are concealed by an experimental antimemetic Weisschild's Radius which causes observers to be unable to hear or see the drone, though in trials the drone has still managed to cause symptoms of exposure to loud, persistent noise in nearby personnel and test subjects. Due to still being a physical object, its software automatically navigates it around obstacles and will follow Sgt. Vestergaard or Dr. Wrenna, prioritizing Dr. Wrenna when possible.

Due to the Antarctic winter, it is presumed that a lot of facilities or groups are incapable of reaching SCP-9070-Alpha, Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna were dispatched without reinforcements. In addition, because of the time sensitive aspect of securing Alpha, the two aforementioned were flown to Antarctica in a prototype transport jet with a single pilot.

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

[[=image Rafael_Mariano_Grossi%2C_IAEA_Director-General%2C_travels_to_Antarctica_on_6_January_2024_-_11.jpg size="medium"]]
[[div style="margin-top: -20px"]]
[[=]]
^^//Picture taken from Dr. Wrenna's phone.//^^
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

**FOREWORD:** Due to strong winds, some parts of the recording are unintelligible. The automatic logging AI transcribing the image and sound captured has been flagged due to suboptimal performance and will be debugged further.

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Dr. Wrenna is looking into the lens of the drone. He is rapidly descending at terminal velocity. He has Sgt. Vestergaard's backpack on his front and his own on his back. Sgt. Vestergaard can be seen behind Dr. Wrenna falling headfirst at terminal velocity as well, completely unclothed.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Hello? This is Dr. [Wrenna] falling [unintelligible] reporting in as [part of?] the mission statement!

**Sgt. Vestgaard:** What!?

**Dr. Wrenna:** Oh, I'm [talking?] to the drone! Six requested that we [immediately] activate it when we were ejected from the plane!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I think [she'd?] accept you waiting [until] we hit the ground!

//<Dr. Wrenna shrugs and toggles the drone's antimemetic barrier and flight mode on. It takes off from Dr. Wrenna's hands and flies a bit out, Dr. Wrenna seems to lose focus on the drone but continues talking to it.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Operation to [instigate] and [liberate?] SCP-9070-Alpha has begun!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** [Approximately] 30 seconds until we [sand?]! I'll be out of [redaction?] for a few minutes!

**Dr. Wrenna:** Oh! Right! Thorstein's [Anne Molly?] allows him to resurrect upon death and return to [freak?] health after a bit of time! While I simply invalidate damaging [horses?] I'm subject to! That's why I'm carrying his [frag bang?] on me!

//<Dr. Wrenna points to the backpack on his front, then gestures a thumbs up in the general direction of the drone.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright! 15 seconds until impact! Hope [es see pee?] 9 [cows and?] didn't disable my anomaly for good!

**Dr. Wrenna:** I don't [hare?] if so! Just come back, no matter what!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I'll try!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard holds up his index and middle finger. Two seconds after, he impacts the ground headfirst and emits a loud series of cracks and blood spatter. His legs are forced into his waist, his hips are forced further into his torso and his head is forced into his torso. Sgt. Vestergaard's internal organs are seemingly pushed out through his mouth into the snow beneath, contributing to the large pool of blood that reaches approximately 3.3m in radius from the point of impact. All of Sgt. Vestergaard's ribs have been forced out of his chest and both his femurs stick out from the skin. Both of his arms are broken in a combined 13 fractures. His left foot twitches thrice. Dr. Wrenna lands safely with his anomaly cancelling out the sudden impact.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Alright, with Thorstein out of the picture, here's the plan. We go to Goldpoint, "take care" of the Coalition operatives so they don't get in our way, pin it on the suspected Broken Church presence and then we slither out towards Alpha. 

//<Dr. Wrenna wipes a bit of Sgt. Vestergaard's bone marrow off his shoulder.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Now that we've landed, I'll wait for Thorstein to regenerate and get dressed. Please log this as an excerpt, good drone!

[COMMAND RECEIVED. UPLOADING LOG, RECORDING WILL CONTINUE.]

**<End Log>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-4:** Presumed Global Occult Coalition meeting between operatives, Goldpoint Refuge[[footnote]] Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. operates several locations under their //Refuge Sanctionné// policy. These are divorced from the greater Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. operations and offer lodging as well as commercial services for underveil individuals. Refuges frequently overcharge goods in exchange for guaranteed security. Assault, theft and killing within a refuge are grounds for permanent blacklisting across all locations under the Refuge Sanctionné policy, with no recorded successful appeals. [[/footnote]], Monitored Conversation
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 8 HOURS AND 37 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

After the accelerated tensions and capabilities of various Groups of Interest since the Cold War, the Foundation has invested heavily in surveillance equipment as part of Operation Spotlight which was spear-headed by the previous [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]. Due to this effort, the Foundation has access to a collection of relevant transcripts recorded by hidden surveillance technology placed under the aforementioned operation.

[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD;border: 3px double #CC2936; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
**FOREWORD:** Conversation picked up by surveillance equipment outside Goldpoint, Antarctica. Individuals' identities are unknown, but due to assumed Coalition presence within Goldpoint Refuge, Foundation intelligence has labelled the two individuals, henceforth known as GOC-1 and GOC-2 within this documentation, with a 92% certainty of being Coalition operatives.

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Footsteps in the snow can be heard approaching the surveillance device.>//

**GOC-1:** [Unintelligible] --which means that Foundation is probably arriving soon.

**GOC-2:** Why the hell are we holding our meeting outside in the Antarctic winter? Why don't we just whisper to each other somewhere my hair won't freeze off?

**GOC-1:** Look, I'm not fucking around with these MC&D guys. They get hired guns from everywhere that can kill you more than once. Hell, heard that a guy last winter-over got turned into the goddamn lobby centerpiece in another Refuge. 

**GOC-2:** Wh--... why is it always us they send on this shit[[footnote]] Due to internal propaganda efforts in the Global Occult Coalition, a narrative of heroic soldiers who won't quit no matter what is prevalent. This often leads to the GOC deploying operatives in dangerous situations if they sense they are a flight risk to preserve this narrative. [[/footnote]].

//<The sound of clothes ruffling is picked up.>//

**GOC-1:** Right, anyways. I slid that USB into the station's security, broadcast should be going straight to Command. I haven't received anything about actionable intel, so I guess we're on standby.

**GOC-2:** As expected... what do we know about underveil movements?

**GOC-1:** Well, Command suspects MC&D and Church of the Broken God, and if we add in the suspected Foundation forces...

**GOC-2:** Jesus, dude. We're like two people against the world.

**GOC-1:** Yeah, and that's why we're going somewhere remote to hold this meeting. They don't need to know that.

**GOC-2:** What about guns, you know, in case a fight breaks out?

**GOC-1:** ... We got our sidearms.

**GOC-2:** ... Yeah. I'm going to call Bruxelles and get us out.

**GOC-1:** Yeah, good luck with that. They're occupied with Rome and Senegal. They don't have time for your whining.

//<GOC-1 and GOC-2 starts moving away from the surveillance device.>//

**GOC-2:** You just clean those halls, I'll take care of-- [Unintelligible]

**<END LOG>**

**NOTES:** It is assumed that the Global Occult Coalition has deprioritized SCP-9070-Alpha due to a lack of manpower at Goldpoint Refuge. Junior Researcher Jane Villier has been commended for the tactical placement of surveillance equipment in "the most suspicious spot she could find near the refuge". [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] has dispatched personnel to set up surveillance in Rome and Dakar.

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-5:** Excerpt from Sgt. Vestergaard's Journal from the Internal Affairs archive
[[/=]]
[[div class="blockquote story" style="background-color: #b0a99d; font-size: 20px"]]
[[span style="color: #171716"]][**NOTE:** Translated from Danish.]

I always come back there. I stand in front of that beautiful tree. I think it's an ash.

I'm fairly certain there's nine shadows that watch me. They don't say anything, they just look at me.

The time I'm there depends on how bad off I am. But it always feels like moments. Then, the little shape notices me. It isn't taller than my shin.

It always feels patient. No matter what I do, they watch me and understand. The smallest shape especially. It moves with such calm grace. Almost like it tries not to frighten me. I always scream at it. Why does it keep giving me this gift? I've broken the pact a thousand times, and will for another million times. And every time, they understand.

I cannot see their faces. But I can always see their cheeks gently curve upwards. They always smile like one would to a son or daughter.

They don't even care that I refuse to return it.

The small shadow extends out a branch to me, and I reach for it. I have no choice, my hand seems possessed. I fight it every time, so that I may linger and rest. The covenant refuses such notions.

When I touch that gift, I simply wake up.

I always feel so, so cold when I do.
[[/span]]
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-1-6:** Arrival at Goldpoint Refuge
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 17 HOURS AND 58 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

----

Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna travelled from their infiltration point to Goldpoint Refuge on foot. They were engaged thrice with hostile intent during their travel, though the engagements are not noteworthy.

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**<BEGIN LOG>**

**[AUTOMATIC LOGGING PROCEDURE ACTIVATED. TRIGGER: APPROACHING STRUCTURE.]**

**Dr. Wrenna:** -utter nonsense. It's honestly vile that they had us study pop science magazines.

//<The conversation dies down. The drone pans to Sgt. Vestergaard, now clothed, who is seemingly rubbing a circular scar on the inside of his palm. Dr. Wrenna turns to Sgt. Vestergaard, prompting the latter to hide the scar and offer a smile.>//

**[NOTE: No information regarding the scar described by the transcribing artificial intelligence could be found, this has been flagged for review by Sgt. Vestergaard's direct superior.]**

**Dr. Wrenna:** You're not usually the type to be worried. What could possibly worry you after, what, three centuries?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard lets out an amused huff.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Always feel something staring, hm, daggers into my back at these spots. It feels so- //faux//- to pretend that you don't want to pull a gun on someone.

**Dr. Wrenna:** There can't be that many people here. Only the prosperous or the service would be here.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard looks at Wrenna with a raised eyebrow.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Didn't think I'd have to tell you that there's only two ways to get rich under the anomalous wor-

**Dr. Wrenna:** I do recall, what was it? 'Only the powerful or those under them are rich in this world', was it?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Good. Then hopefully you've understood the rule of "don't underestimate the //bourgeoisie de magnifique//" thoroughly.

//<Dr. Wrenna sighs and removes his firearm from its holster, a Colt Commander. He ejects the magazine to inspect its contents, and checks the barrel of the pistol. He holsters it after this procedure.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Alright, fine, fine. It's, uh, impressed upon me. But like, surely it can't be that dangerous.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Well, you'd be right, but we are planning on some constructional changes to some Coalition operatives' torsos. //Then//, it becomes dangerous. MC&D knows how to handle me rather well, and they'll probably figure you out too the moment you run out of bullets.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard inspects his own sidearm, a H&K USP. He repeats the same procedure as Dr. Wrenna, though roughly twice as fast.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright, we're going in. Don't reach for your gun unless I do, and you know. Do exactly as I say. They may literally believe in the customer always being right, but the moment you stop being a customer, they have an, well, alternative approach to service.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Well, I suppose I better have you get your spotlight so you can shut up for a bit. Fine.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Pft, good. I'll try not to let it get to my head.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard flashes Dr. Wrenna a smile before he turns around and walks towards a trapdoor in the distance. Dr. Wrenna scowls towards Sgt. Vestergaard and follows from a distance.>//

**[1 MINUTE AND 22 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna approach the trapdoor. Sgt. Vestergaard crouches down and taps the entrance with his gloved knuckles, then he stands up and takes a few steps back. He raises his arms and nods to Dr. Wrenna, who does the same.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Stay calm.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Wai- huh?

//<A second later, 3 two-floor lifts rapidly ascend out of the ground in front of Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna, on the other side of the trapdoor. Three individuals in thick winter coats, high-cut combat helmets and sunglasses become visible, each aiming a Marshall AR-S4//[[footnote]]  **Relevant recording from Marshall, Carter and Dark Refuge weapons store located in Sisimiut, Greenland:** //"Now, this one is quite popular among your Coalition adversaries! Tactical assault rifle, the rifling compounds in accordance to the golden ratio fit for Marshall La Méprise .223 rounds. This might be nonsensical for the more mundane soldier, however the rounds that we synthesize for this weapon make it quite worth the incompatibility with mundane rounds. While we do charge a slight bit more than your ordinary arms manufacturer for the rounds, the value comes in the quite literal golden ratio on the tip of the bullet. This mathematical formula made painfully manifest is good against anomalous energies. That is to say, shielding magic, curses of protection and enchanted surfaces. If you're having trouble with a certain Handful of Serpents, perhaps you'd like to put some dents in those pesky barriers of theirs?"// [[/footnote]] //at Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna, the latter of which seem clearly stressed.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** [Whispering] Thorstein...?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Good day, gentlemen! Fucked weather we're having, no? Sorry for calling you out in the cold!

**[Individuals are assigned temporary codenames until identities are learned: MCD-1, MCD-2 and MCD-3.]**

**MCD-1:** Thorstein Vestergaard, you are not welcome in any Sanctionné Refuge areas, turn around and leave immediately!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Ah, problems with the security, friends? Rats scurrying around the site?

**MCD-1:** Vacate the premises or we are permitted to use lethal force, Thorstein Vestergaard!

**Dr. Wrenna:** I don't think-

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Please, let's not be in a rush! No need for guns.

**MCD-1:** This is your final warning, leave or we will shoot!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright! Alright. Check my pocket!

**MCD-1:** What?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard slowly unzips his coat and exposes his right pant pocket. A black card with gilded edges and corners is visible.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** May I reach for my pocket?

//<MCD-1 and MCD-3 exchange glances. MCD-2 whispers something into a microphone. Shortly after, MCD-2 lowers her assault rifle and approaches carefully. As she enters the effective range of the drone, her identity is being searched in the database.>//

**[MCD-2 IDENTIFIED. ANDRÉE FOURNIER. 83% CERTAINTY OF WEST EUROPEAN ETHNICITY. TRANSMITTING NAME AND VITAL DETAILS TO SGT. VESTERGAARD.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard winces, presumably due to the information being spoken into his earpiece. He maintains a smile as Fournier approaches. While Fournier reaches for the exposed card in Sgt. Vestergaard's pocket, Sgt. Vestergaard winks to Fournier. She scoffs, retrieves the card and walks backwards while facing Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna. MCD-1 and Fournier engage in a hushed conversation, concluding with Fournier going to the lift she first emerged from and descending below.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Why the actual hell did you- like you're- why did you not tell me you were banned from refuges!?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard lets out an amused huff.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Because it wasn't going to be a problem, obviously.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Wha- that's absurd, the Foundation doesn't have ANY documented successful appeals for overturning refuge bans!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yeah, well. Good thing I'm not wholly Foundation, eh?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard winks to Dr. Wrenna and offers a smile to MCD-1 and MCD-3. None of them return it.>//

**MCD-3:** [Smartass?].

//<Sgt. Vestergaard smiles even wider.>//

**[2 MINUTES AND 4 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<Fournier emerges from the two-floor lift again.//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Well?

**Fournier:** Your card's expired.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** H-Hm.

**Fournier:** It also belongs to... Mr. Carter?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Mhm...?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard waggles his eyebrows. Dr. Wrenna appears to mouth "what the fuck" and glances to Sgt. Vestergaard.>//

**Fournier:** //Le Maître du Château// would like to speak with you regarding your possession of the identification card.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard grins to Dr. Wrenna who alternates a confused look between Sgt. Vestergaard and Fournier.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Why, it'd be my- as well as Dr. Wrenna's- honor to accept an audience with //Le Maître//! May we enter your refuge?

//<Fournier seems to roll her eyes before nodding after a considerable delay. She speaks something inaudibly into her headset, causing the trapdoor to rise into the air, revealing it to be another two floor lift with space enough for both Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna.>//

**Fournier:** Discard your firearms and step upon the lift. We will secure them for you.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard smiles widely, slowly draws his pistol and tosses it over his shoulder. Dr. Wrenna does the same, though simply lowers himself and places it on the snow beneath. MCD-1 scowls to Sgt. Vestergaard and goes to retrieve their firearms while Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna step onto the lift.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** How did- where do I even beg-

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** We're on duty, quit gawking, man.

//<Dr. Wrenna shakes his head and lets out an exasperated sigh. The drone manages to fit onto the lift and descends downwards with the pair.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Can't believe that actually worked.

**Dr. Wrenna:** I'm- eh- yeah, man. Me neither.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna emerge into a lobby. The interior is mainly mahogany plank floor, beige walls and a dark marble ceiling. Every edge and corner of the interior is outlined by gold leaf trimming, even the tabletops' edges and chair cushions are framed in filigree. The lift gently docks at the top of a staircase which is followed by a red carpet that runs all the way to the reception desk. A woman stands in front of the desk, wearing a black blazer and pencil skirt, as well as a purple shirt and a gold-colored tie. She smiles politely at Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** //Jøses Kristus//, how the hell did you manage to get all of this into the southernmost continent!

//<Dr. Wrenna has an expression upon his expression. He walks over to a round table and runs a hand over the gilded detailing.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** It's smooth but...

//<Dr. Wrenna rubs his hand over the same spot repeatedly.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** It feels rough?

**[INDIVIDUAL IDENTIFIED. NAME IS UNKNOWN, ASSIGNING MCD-4 CODENAME.]**

**MCD-4:** That'd be an alloy we call trickgold. When interior design needs to be exquisite, stylish and environmentally responsible, we commission aspiring alchemists to synthesize materials out of plastic, carbon dioxide, leaves and a little bit of silver.

//<MCD-4 approaches the two and extends her hand. She smiles widely. Dr. Wrenna scoffs dismissively, which seems to prompt Sgt. Vestergaard to shake MCD-4's hand.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** And you assume that this invalidates the wyrdoil spills of 2019?

**MCD-4:** Oh goodness, that was a tragedy. Though, I wasn't aware of any Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. involvement?

//<Dr. Wrenna rolls his eyes.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Thorstein, what do I call you?

**MCD-4:** Call me Test Six, personal assistant to //Monsieur// **Vavar**. May I get you some drinks for the audience, gentlemen?

**[IDENTITY UPDATED FOR MCD-4. 'TEST SIX' ASSIGNED AS NEW CODENAME.]**

**Dr. Wrenna:** Yeah, uh-huh. Nice try, we both know a Pepsi costs a limb here.

**Test Six:** Oh, worry not. A treat from //Le Maître du Château//, I hear his guests are pampered with benefits.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Bottle of schnapps, please. Marskin ryyppy.

**Dr. Wrenna:** ... Water, please.

**Test Six:** Would you like a squeezed lemon in your water? It is, of course, from the cleanest of sources Antarctica has to offer.

//<Dr. Wrenna squints.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Oh, huh. Sure. Thanks.

**Test Six:** I'll get that for you. The fine security will bring you to Monsieur Vavar's office, please feel free to enter and I shall arrive with your beverages soon.

//<Test Six gestures to MCD-1, MCD-3 and Fournier who stand ready near the entrance lift. Fournier walks past the group and gestures Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna along. They follow as informed and are in turn followed by MCD-1 and MCD-3. Dr. Wrenna leans closer to Sgt. Vestergaard.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** [Whispering] Do you know this Vavar?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** [Whispering] I don't //think// so. I'm betting on him knowing the importance of a membership card belonging to one of their founders, however.

**Dr. Wrenna:** [Whispering] What makes you so confident he won't make us disappear?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** [Whispering] Pffh, I got you to block bullets and a knife in my belt. We'll be fine.

//<Dr. Wrenna twitches an eye. The group turns down a hallway marked as Personnel Only by a golden plaque. There are seven doors in the hallway, three on each side and one at the end with a sign marking it as the Refuge Manager's office. Fournier rasps her knuckles against the door twice, and opens it. She gestures Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna to enter as she does so. As Sgt. Vestergaard passes by Fournier on his way in, he whispers something inaudible to her, seemingly causing her to express surprised annoyance. Sgt. Vestergaard turns his head to wink at her before looking ahead. The drone passes by Fournier to enter the office, catching a mutter.>//

**Fournier:** [Whispering] //Petit con//.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna enter the office and the door is closed behind them by Fournier. The office's floor is a soft rug with a checkered pattern with two similar but subtle shades of black, mahogony wooden walls with indents that each have a mirror that covers the full section. The ceiling is completely covered in puffy, red velvet. In the back of the room a man is seated behind a mahogany desk.>//

**[INDIVIDUAL IDENTIFIED. NAME IS PRESUMED TO BE VAVAR BASED ON PRIOR OBSERVATION. ASSIGNING AS CODENAME.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard clears his throat and moves two steps closer to the desk.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** You must be-

//<Sgt. Vestergaard is shot through the head with Vavar's Colt Anaconda.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Wh- //fuck me//!

**Vavar:** Now we wait.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard collapses on the spot with a groan.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Okay?!

**Vavar:** Wrenna, I assume?

//<Dr. Wrenna gestures in excessive confusion.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** How--, like@@-@@, how are you going@@-@@ isn't that going to stain the carpet?

//<Vavar lightly shrugs. He stands up. Vavar wears a white, formal linen shirt with two buttons unbuttoned from the top. He wears a golden cross necklace on his exposed chest, pointed shoes that are made of black leather on his feet and puffy leggings that are held up by suspenders. Experimental visual analysis reveals that he wears 70 grams of golden jewelry in total. He has a black mustache and goatee.>//

**Vavar:** If this man is who I assume he is, the carpet being stained is well worth it. Otherwise, well, gives something for the maintenance crew to do. It's been a slow week.

//<Vavar nudges Sgt. Vestergaard's foot with his own.>//

**Vavar:** I'm starting to think it isn't. He is supposed to be up in...

//<Vavar looks at his gold watch for two seconds.>//

**Vavar:** ... Now.

//<Both Vavar and Dr. Wrenna look down at Sgt. Vestergaard's corpse, which retains a blank expression. Notably, there is still a gunshot wound above his right eyebrow.>//

**Vavar:** Huh. I think I might've killed your friend under mistaken circumstances. That's... //actually// pretty bad.

//<Vavar scratches the back of his head with his Colt Anaconda. Dr. Wrenna waves dismissively.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** No, no, he'll, uh, he'll do his thing in like, a few minutes.

**Vavar:** Minutes? What? The old guard said he'd get shot and regenerate in seconds. Don't you challenge your people properly at the Foundation or something?

//<Dr. Wrenna shrugs.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** We, like, research anomalies as a primary thing. Besides, it's always taken him minutes.

**Vavar:** Huh. Curious. Well, have a seat, Wrenna. Might as well start without the pile of disappointment over there.

//<Vavar moves back behind his desk and takes a seat in the executive chair. Dr. Wrenna glances in a confused manner towards Sgt. Vestergaard's corpse and exhales. He moves to sit down in the seat gestured to by Vavar and places his backpack down next to the designated chair.>// 

**Vavar:** Now, Wrenna. To what do I owe you two the pleasure of a visit?

//<Dr. Wrenna shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. He is seemingly in thought. Vavar lowers his head a bit to see Dr. Wrenna's expression.>//

**[HESITATION IN VITAL DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT RECORDED. TRANSFERRING MISSION BRIEF TO DR. WRENNA.]**

//<Dr. Wrenna grimaces and shakes his head. His features become more neutral.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** We believe that your establishment has been infiltrated by the Global Occult Coalition.

//<Vavar leans back and cants his head backwards. His mouth is slightly agape, making his seven golden teeth visible.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** We'd like to help you.

**Vavar:** How... Curious. And your Foundation is doing this out of the kindness of your hearts?

**Dr. Wrenna:** No, uhh.

//<Dr. Wrenna glances off in consideration. His attention snaps back to Vavar.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** No, what we want from you is Marshall, Carter and Dark keeping their distance from a certain area that has relation to the... recent incident.

//<Vavar smiles and a golden tooth reflects some light into the lens of the drone.>//

**Vavar:** Oh, good friend, valued friend. You're going to be a bit more specific...

//<Dr. Wrenna raises an eyebrow and unzips his wintercoat. He removes a document from an inner pocket.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** I'm rather certain you know what I'm speaking of.

**Vavar:** Oh, I am? Perhaps you'd be willing to remind me in the... invocative way?

**Dr. Wrenna:** In th-... hm.

//<Dr. Wrenna seems to glance at Vavar's eight golden rings that spell out MC&D LTD$. Dr. Wrenna slowly nods.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** You mean-- hm.

//<Dr. Wrenna looks past Vavar, there is an oil painting of the latter subject. Dr. Wrenna widens his eyes and seems to gain a confident grin. Test Six enters the room with a tray that holds a bottle of schnapps and a glass of water. She approaches Sgt. Vestergaard's corpse and places down the bottle and a shot glass next to his bloody and pale head. She approaches the desk and places down the glass of water. Dr. Wrenna glances down to the slice of lemon on the side of the glass. He slowly grins.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** I can synthesize you real gold instead of the knock-off shit you've plastered across the furniture.

//<Vavar frowns. He tilts his head to the other side.>//

**Vavar:** Curious. But we all know it's a fool's endeavor. There's a good reason why the company I represent hasn't taken over the world yet.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Quite indeed; you're not //me//.

**<END LOG>**
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
+ Document 2: Beta Pillar
[[/=]]

-----

[[div class="blockquote cinzel-decorative-regular" style="background-color: #1b2113;color: #c0cfae;text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000"]]
My studies have proven... difficult. I stumbled across a wisewoman on the coast while sailing south. She was blind, her eyes a shade of marble from back home. I asked her how one in her weakened state could survive in a land of beasts.

She smiled at me and spoke with kindness and patience: "My husbands have sight! They have strength. They have willpower."

I looked around and found no traces of any men near. It was but her and her tent. I paid it no mind, perhaps she had brought her husbands forth from dreams to stave off solitude. 

I inquired if she wielded magical arts, to which she merely shook her head. Though, she did insist that she was warded by those who wielded it.

I was rather puzzled, I asked if she was a servant. No, she made shields and spears. She offered them in return for protection. I asked what would happen if she stopped, to which she'd suppose she'd perish.

A foolish woman I thought, one who would believe that she was no servant, yet was forced to make shields and spears for her safety. I asked if she would want to travel with me, to reach safer places beneath my protection. No, she said. So I left inland, securing my ship near her tent.

When I returned with tomes bought from a grand library below ground three weeks later, I found the woman no longer. A crater had overtaken her encampment.

This experience has left me bitter. It is a reminder that those in power will wield that power the moment that their authority is challenged. I am starting to doubt whether there is a diplomatic resolution to this. Are we simply meant to be crushed like ants? I dare not ponder it. My journey will continue.

**-Contranumen**
[[/div]]

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-1: Global Occult Coalition PHYSICS Division assessment team meeting in Dakar, Senegal regarding SCP-9070-Beta
[[/=]]

[[=]]
++* 1 DAY, 15 HOURS AND 21 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Conversation recorded in known Global Occult Coalition safehouse in the //commune d'arrondissement// Ngor in Dakar, Senegal. Individuals present are assumed to be of the PHYSICS Division studying SCP-9070-Gamma. Individuals are assigned observed codenames as monikers. Transcript details information captured by a hidden camera which was narrowly avoided during surveillance inspection by the present GOC operatives.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<There are three individuals surrounding a speaker, all of them leaning over the table that the speaker is laying on. The speaker seems to emit sound that the Foundation does not have the Tsar-Decibel Verification Key[[footnote]] Basic sine wave encryption technology. [[/footnote]] for, and is thus unable to be transcribed.>//

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

//<"Alabaster", an elderly male. He is wearing a lab coat, a turtleneck sweater and cargo pants as well as suspected paratech gloves. His lab coat and sweater sleeves are rolled up, revealing tattoos with an exposed mermaid on one arm and an exposed siren on the other.>//

**Alabaster:** This is forward team Jacker-Smith reporting in. We have an update regarding the threat in Dakar.

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

**Alabaster:** I'm convinced it's more than that, Gloria. These pillars seem to act like reality anchors that are exponentionally intensifying when in the presence of metanormal effects. They are still in the very low values of compounding, but they will reach an exploding velocity at some point if they maintain contact with something not of this world. 

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

//<"September", a middle-aged woman, is wearing blue overalls, a white cotton shirt, a large brim straw hat and a monocle. She notably has a portion of the left side of her face, between her temple, ear, jaw and mouth covered in burn scar tissue.>//

**September:** It is the same case as in India, yes. In fact, with the... "liberated" Hume detectors acquired from a Foundation research time, we can sense that the hume levels here are close to, if not the same as the pillar in Telangana.

//<The conversation halts to a lull. The three participants glance to each other. The final individual present is "Pangaea", a young woman who is wearing a yellow croptop with puffy leggings. Notably she has tattooed sigils on most of her exposed skin with the exception of her hands and the area above her jaw, the sigils terminating roughly at the height of her mouth. Pangaea seems to shrug her shoulders in an exaggerated manner to Alabaster. 21 seconds passes before the next vocalization occurs.>//

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

**Pangaea:** Correct. It does appear to be a curse. Which would make it quite... //resiliente// to dispel. As it stands we only have a vague understanding of the person who cast the curse. And if I must be honest, this is a curse of mythological size. I can't think of how one would forcefully dismantle it.

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

**Pangaea:** That's quite possible. 

**September:** So if the idiot who cast this curse is dead a few two thousand years ago, it's going to be quite hard to understand it.

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

//<The conversation falls silent again. September and Pangaea looks to Alabaster. The first grins in an excited manner, the latter frowns in a worried manner. Alabaster takes a deep breath and leans closer to the speaker.>//

**Alabaster:** Yes. I believe that it is possible that these pillars can globally terminate anomalies.

//<There is once more a lull in the conversation. September silently gestures in a cheerful manner while Pangaea blinks in a shocked manner and rubs her eyebrows.>//

**Speaker:** (Vocalization.)

//<The speaker turns off and a few seconds after, it starts emitting sparks and smoke. September starts laughing cheerily while Alabaster and Pangaea remains quiet.>//

**<END LOG>**

-----

**NOTE:** The obtained information has been directly forwarded to the O5 Council and the Administrator. Disruption Class of SCP-9070 is undergoing standard deliberation process for being upgraded to Amida[[footnote]] **From the Foundation's Anomaly Classification System Handbook:** An Amida anomaly threatens civilization at a baseline. It is capable of impacting the Earth, and possibly more than that, in a way that completely contradicts Normalcy. Amida-class anomalies forego the Foundation's standard protocol for research and are usually to be neutralized through any means necessary. [[/footnote]].

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-2-2:** Emergency O5 Council meeting regarding GOC intelligence
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 1 DAY, 23 HOURS AND 19 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff;padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
**FOREWORD:** Following the report outlined in the previous addendum, [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] started a recording through implanted technology with as many members of the Overseer Council as could be gathered.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]], [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] and [[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]] are sitting in [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]'s living room in her private residence in Manhattan, New York City. [[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] and [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] are participating via encrypted audio transmission.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Thirteen, are we certain that the Coalition's findings can be verified?

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** I have Thaumaturgy and Countercursing from Site-03 working on the task. I'm also checking with our contacts within the Coalition itself.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] jumps onto the table and sits down in front of speaker that [[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] and [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] are participating through.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Contacts within the Wanderer's Library have stated rumors regarding the same. Serpent's Hand cells in Antarctica, Senegal, India, Brazil and Italy have deployed investigative efforts. It'd seem that our immortal of former Carter loyalties has secured Antarctica, however. We will know more if the Hand reaches one of the pillars.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** If they manage to get through the Coalition, that is.

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** If conflict breaks out we'll have quite the opportunity.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** The Hand may be brave but they also have smarts. I doubt most of them would seek open conflict with the Coalition for the pillars.

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Most, no. But all it takes is one. They act out of good intentions, they're an emotional bunch.

//<The conversation falls silent for 3 seconds.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'd have to agree with Two.

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Well, surely we should be at the ready with-- //something//-- then.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I do not think that compounding violence with opportunistic ambushes is what we want. We're the ones who'll have to clean up the mess, after all; something we're currently wholly incapable of given our containment efforts.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** We may not have resources, but I do agree that this is something we simply cannot relent on, Six.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Perhaps a-- //tempered// move could be argued? What does our intelligence say regarding Coalition efforts, Five?

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** It'd seem that they're focusing on Rome, Senegal and India, though from what Intelligence theorizes, the primary focus is Rome? They seem otherwise fairly confident regarding Dakar and India, leading them to deploy a fragment of personnel to those two, in comparison to Rome at the very least.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** I have personnel on the ground in Antarctica. It'd seem our little immortal is using his Carter ties...

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** We're certain of his loyalties?

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** We're certain that he's more loyal to us than he is to Carter.

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Good enough, I suppose.

**[[span class="o5 o5-13" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-13[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Analyst[[/span]][[/span]]:** It'd be in my interests to see personnel in India and Senegal. Do we have //anyone// free?

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Four has reported in, but was quite busy at the time. He has his personal bodyguards of Red Right Hand rejects, which means--

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** They're combat ready and dangerous enough to operate on their own. Especially with Four there.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Indeed.

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Then we send them to Senegal.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** And what, pray tell, of India?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] takes a deep breath.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** [[span class="o5 o5-1" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-1[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Anomaly[[/span]][[/span]] is enroute.

//<The room falls quiet for 5 seconds. [[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] shifts uncomfortably. [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] uses her hind paw to scratch her ear in contemplation.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** ... Then we're left with Amazon and Rome. It is my suggestion that we let Rome develop by itself and send the first available forces to Brazil.

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Sounds good to me. Anyone in disagreement?

//<The conversation is silent for 4 seconds.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]]:** Good. Let's get back to work, we're still under operative capacity.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-2" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-2[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Lieutenant[[/span]][[/span]] disconnects from the call.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Do you think--

**[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]]:** Keep me out of whatever you're about to say, I'm not interested in questioning him in any capacity.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-11" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-11[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Butcher[[/span]][[/span]] disconnects from the call. The call terminates.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I don't know, Six. I don't know.

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-2-3:** Incident regarding SCP-███ outside Tianjin, China
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 2 DAYS, 3 HOURS AND 1 MINUTE AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

Following a containment breach from Site-93, several entities known for human predation roamed the outskirts of Tianjin. The Foundation had only secured an estimated 23.4% of escaped anomalies with a risk class of Warning[[footnote]] An anomaly that has mild to major effect(s) on an individual. Is usually assumed to be of moderate danger to an individual. [[/footnote]] and 67.3% of escaped anomalies with a risk class of Danger[[footnote]] An anomaly that has major to extreme effect(s) on an individual. Is usually assumed to be of significant danger to an individual. [[/footnote]]. The only 2 anomalies formerly held in Site-93 with a risk class of Critical[[footnote]] An anomaly that will have extreme or immediate effect(s) on an individual. Do **not** recover individuals affected by the anomaly. [[/footnote]] remain uncontained.

[[div class="file-class" style="color: #B8DBFF; background-color: #09061C; border-color: #8B2635; border-style: dashed dashed dashed solid; border-width: 10px 10px 10px 25px;padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]
**FOREWORD:** Officer Liu of the Tianjin Police was dispatched to investigate a complaint regarding a 5-8 years old girl wandering a dirt road. Footage recorded from the patrol car's camera. Transcript translated from Mandarin.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Sergeant Liu picks up the radio's microphone. He glances around the sides of the road while he speaks.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** This is Liu. Not seeing anything here, checked five times. Want me to call it off?

//<3 seconds pass. Liu picks up his vape with his other hand and takes a deep inhalation from it. Supervisor Third Class Weii responds.>//

**Sup. Weii:** Afraid not, too many disappearances lately. Deputy wants this solved, over.

//<Sgt. Liu takes a deep breath and sighs before responding.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** Understood. Over.

//<Sgt. Liu inhales sharply and puts the microphone back on the radio. He rolls the window down and points his flashlight out of the window.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** Hello?! Anyone out there? Little girl?! My name is Xiángzhuu, what's your name?!

//<Silence for 4 seconds.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** Urgh. What the hell.

//<Sgt. Liu sighs and turns off the flashlight. He turns the car around and starts driving back towards the city.>//

//<A girl is lit up by the headlights.>//

[[=image 500px-Life_and_light_for_woman_%281873%29_%2814595723959%29.jpg size="medium"]]
[[div style="margin-top: -20px"]]
[[=]]
^^//Photograph of SCP-███, taken in 1873.//^^
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

**Sgt. Liu:** //Cào//!

//<Sgt. Liu brakes the patrol vehicle harshly, bringing the car to a halt 2 meters from SCP-███.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** My poor heart! You cannot just stand in the middle of the road, young lady!

//<Sgt. Liu takes a sharp breath and adjusts his uniform before he opens his door. He steps outside with his flashlight which he points at SCP-███. It doesn't flinch.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** Now, what are you looking for out here, mh? You're not going to find a lot of candies in the rice!

//<Sgt. Liu turns off his flashlight and lowers himself down to SCP-███'s height.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** Where do you live, little friend? Have you gotten yourself lost?

**SCP-███:** ... [[span style="color: #09061C"]]A foolish man.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Liu:** Don't be scared! I'm here to help.

**SCP-███:** ... [[span style="color: #09061C"]]He will know of the //mo//.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Liu:** Would you not like a ride in a police car?

//<Sgt. Liu tilts his head and remains quiet for a while. SCP-███ doesn't blink.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** You can sit in the front!

//<SCP-███ slowly starts raising her hands, palms facing upwards.>//

**Sgt. Liu:** That's it. Your mother must be worried as hell!

//<Sgt. Liu places both of his hands in SCP-███'s.>//

**SCP-███:** Someone's mother will surely be worried.

**<SCP-███ rips Sgt. Liu's arms off.>**

//<Sgt. Liu blinks in a confused manner. He starts stuttering in panic. Blood paints the road like epoxy.>//

//<Sgt. Liu falls backwards and starts screaming, missing both of his arms from the shoulders. His speech becomes incoherent as he starts begging.>//

//<SCP-███ watches Sgt. Liu.>//

**SCP-███:** Your hands will build my mountain to Heaven.

//<A large collection of arms of a variety of sizes and states of decomposition emerges from the SCP-███'s back, mimicking a grim parody of wings. Closer analysis reveals there to be 42 arms in total.>//

**SCP-███:** A much better use.

//<Sgt. Liu hyperventilates while crying. He sobs a few indecipherable words out as he lies on the road.>//

//<SCP-███ raises Sgt. Liu's arms over its shoulders, and adds them to the wing-like appendages on its back. They attach.>//

//<SCP-███ crouches down and jumps into the air. It flies away with its arm-wings.>//

//<Sgt. Liu prays until he expires from blood loss.>//

**<END LOG>**

-----

**AFTERWORD:** Sgt. Liu was found the following morning by MTF agents as part of the containment efforts following Sgt. Liu being reported missing. His arms could not be located.

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-2-4** Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna's strategy meeting
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 2 DAYS, 17 HOURS AND 21 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<The pair are in Dr. Wrenna's room in Goldpoint. Dr. Wrenna is at the desk using the typewriter, noting down the process for transmuting gold while Sgt. Vestergaard is laying in Dr. Wrenna's bed and spinning a keychain around his finger.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** You know, I'd wish that Vavar would just let me disappear those two janitors. We know it's them, they know that we know it's them. Intense staredowns as a conflict resolution is starting to get boring.

**Dr. Wrenna:** If you're going to be here, could you at least not dream about murder?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** What else do you want me to dream about, fraud? Heists? How Jack the Ripper was some schmuck who got lucky?

**Dr. Wrenna:** How about you think about that for a minute or two.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard squints his eyes and seems to be in deep thought. Dr. Wrenna sighs with relief and goes back to typing. He pauses, opens a drawer and retrieves an envelope. He crumbles it up into a ball and clenches his fist around it. Before his skin can become irritated by the paper, Dr. Wrenna's anomaly activates and keeps it about 1cm from his skin. He hums in consideration and forms a perfectly round orb as he keeps clenching his fist around the parchment.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Did you know I once got stabbed about a hundred times before dying? Saw my stomach just sort of fall out alongside the rest of the organs before I died from shock. London was quite wild.

//<Dr. Wrenna closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He stops clenching his fist around the paper, which deactivates his anomaly. He places the crumbled, blank piece of paper on the table. A thin beam of smoke arises from it. He slowly rotates the chair around to look at Sgt. Vestergaard with a quizzical expression.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Yeah-- uh. That's wild, man. Reminds me of the time you said that you swear you didn't need a liver to live for a week?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Just be mindful of what you put in your body and you're good. It was mostly just a challenge for myself, really. Training my capacity for pain tolerance.

**Dr. Wrenna:** I don't think--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Another time I had my head cut off. I saw my body just collapse, you survive for a surprising amount of time after being decapitated.

//<Dr. Wrenna squints.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Could you even think?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** As well as I always can! Though I did forget a few after a second or two.

**Dr. Wrenna:** I did not know decapitation was a persistent disability for you.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Hm?

//<Dr. Wrenna clicks his tongue and shrugs.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Doesn't it hurt?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** What? Getting your head lopped off?

**Dr. Wrenna:** ... Sure-- something like that.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Oh, not quite. I don't really care about pain anymore. A big part of pain is just something being unexpected, once you've felt everything you start to expect just that.

**Dr. Wrenna:** ... Yeah?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yes. That or, well. If a limb is dislocated or a bone is actively poking into your flesh, the pain may be sustained. But you learn the breathing techniques, distractions, keeping yourself busy...

**Dr. Wrenna:** What about death?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard goes quiet for 6 seconds. Then he sighs.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Warm.

//<Dr. Wrenna blinks.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Right. Uhh.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard stares into the ceiling. Dr. Wrenna clicks his tongues and glances towards the door.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Hey, saw Fournier pass by.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard purses his lips and stands up. He walks towards the door, half-heartedly waves to Dr. Wrenna and leaves. Dr. Wrenna lets his arms fall into his lap as he slowly rotates on the chair. He seems worried.>//

//<Dr. Wrenna picks up the crumbled piece of paper. He eyes the beam of smoke it emits. The smoke disperses soon after, forming a barely perceptible cloud above the beam, seemingly granting Dr. Wrenna the impression of a tree.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** An ash tree, huh? How curious.

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-2-5:** Excerpt regarding curses
[[/=]]

Due to SCP-9070's status as a Exacratus-class anomaly, the following documentation has been provided as an introductory primer to the subject.

[[div class="libre-baskerville-bold" style="background-color: #1b171f;color: #998049;text-shadow: 0px 0px #2d0d4f;border: 5px groove #b5913c; padding: 15px"]]

++* **On Exacratus-Class Anomalies, Colloquially Known as Curses**
++++* **//By Prof. Aleca von Leisere, Site-03 Thaumaturgy and Countercursing Division//**

-----
A trend tends to form in western society, where a lot of mythical subjects get labelled under a unifying category. Think dragons, demons and gods. A dragon is a serpentine, powerful creature, which defines many a mythical entity from the classic European, fire-spewing dragons on four legs, to Quetzalcoatl of Aztec myth. A demon is a spiritual being of malice, from a devil possessing a nun to a representation of a harsh, arid environment in the form of a predator. A god is a being above us all, from the Abrahamic God to the Norse pantheon. You will note that in a lot of these cases, there is quite considerable variation depending on the culture. This is because, in our rush to categorize the details of the world, the West has rushed to homogenize wildly different entities under understandable labels.

If you ask me, such is not the case for curses.

Wishing ill upon someone predates language, it may even predate tools. Rivalry is an established and important part of natural selection that grants the best adapted a method to continue lineage. Envy and anger have always been in our species, as well as the species we originate from. The capacity to overcome, equalize or remove our rivals is an aspect we desire in some capacity, even if friendly. I do not study the friendly aspects of rivalry.

We live in a world of anomalies, the magical //is// mundane to our lives. When the fantastical meets the most base expression of competition, it is infused. A curse is a situation where someone gifted with powers wishes harm on someone or something. Most of the time, these curses are minor and take the shape of spectral anomalies who, frankly, aren't worth time or resources to exorcise, but I do believe that this is a personal opinion that will get me vilified by the Department of Letumphysics.

No, the issue arises when someone with an understanding of the paranormal is born with an enchanted soul. They might notice that when they were a child, they always seemed to have an edge over another child in a contest when they felt frustration at their rival. They might realize that their parents felt sick and weak when they raised their voice at them. They may understand that by purposefully engaging in hateful thought, they can impact the world. Now these are what I live for.

Curses are notoriously hard to break, though luckily a lot of people, even those with anomalous properties, do not focus hateful energies. Once a person grows, the chances of them manifesting a curse lowers exponentially. Though, the opposite is true for those who understand and purposefully wield a curse. Skilled wielders of curses become exponentially dangerous, as resilience is a, if not the, key trait of Exacratus-class anomalies. That's why we specifically have divisions with "Countercursing" in their name.

Dispelling a curse is, paradoxically, often the complete opposite approach to casting them. In order to interface with a curse, you must almost completely understand what spawned it. The specific event, the person who cast it, the person who received it, the perceived actions, if any, that spawned the incident.  

This is what we call "Empathetic Exorcism" in this unprofitable business, where one understands and untangles a curse. This isn't our only option, though. We also have my colleagues' preferred option, "Forceful Exorcism". See, directly interfacing with someone else's curse isn't one's only option, for one who can also use Exacratus-class thaumaturgy to combat the very same thing. This is why many people under the Countercursing umbrella are, themselves, fully aware of how to manifest curses.

It's a strange thing, these curses. The best way to handle an Exacratus-class thaumaturge is usually just to kill them, though this empowers any lingering curses as their soul itself is turned into fuel for the anomaly. This makes a curse hard to deal with.

So for any aspiring thaumaturges that wishes to join your site's Thaumaturgy and Countercursing Division, good luck. And for the soldiers who have to handle curses, please stop killing the caster. You make my job rather difficult, please start capturing mortals instead of slaying them?
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-6: Initial inspection of SCP-9070-Alpha
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 3 DAYS, 1 HOUR AND 49 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

[[div class="blockquote" style="font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace; color: #07FFFA; background-color: #053A39; border-radius: 10px; border-width: 5px; border-style: dashed none none none 5px; border-color: #07FFFA; font-size: 12; background-image: repeating-linear-gradient(#0000, #07FFFA33 4px, #0000 4px); backdrop-filter: blur(0.5px);"]]

[[div style="font-size:9px; margin-bottom: -20px"]]

To:

[[/div]]

**Sergeant Thorstein Vestergaard, Doctor George William Wrenna**

[[div style="font-size:9px; margin-bottom: -20px;"]]

From:

[[/div]]

[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]**O5-6**[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]**The Singularity**[[/span]][[/span]]

The agreement you've crafted is acceptable, at least given the circumstances. We will ensure that veil-maintaining preparation will be done to avoid the detection of an explosion.

You will, however, inspect Alpha. If we are to pay millions in gold for protection, I want to be certain that it is an object that can, in fact, be protected. This is non-negotiable.

The week of guaranteed safety is actionable, we will be able to land armed personnel to guard Alpha at this time. Ensure that no-one other than you and Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. personnel are near the pillar.

Do not relent authority, no matter what.

Secure, Contain, Protect.
-[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]

[[/div]]

Following the above message from [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]], Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna departed towards SCP-9070-Alpha alongside Fournier and Test Six. Due to an ongoing snowstorm, the group made use of a special land vehicle supplied by Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd.

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Vehicle is driven by Fournier, with Test Six in the passanger seat. Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna occupy the backseat of the vehicle.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

<Sgt. Vestergaard's right leg hops excessively. He looks outside the window which is covered in snow.>

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I swear it shouldn't be that long.

**Test Six:** Would you like me to turn the radio on, Mr. Vestergaard?

//<Dr. Wrenna rolls his eyes.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Oh, sure. Why not.

//<Test Six turns the radio on. She slowly tunes through several channels, yet she only finds static.>//

**Test Six:** Oh, what a shame. It'd appear that the snowstorm is obfuscating any chance of entertainment. My apologies, Mr. Vestergaard.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I will survive.

//<The four fall quiet. Sgt. Vestergaard looks towards Dr. Wrenna, who in turn side-eyes Sgt. Vestergaard. The latter raises his eyebrow inquisitively towards Dr. Wrenna who mouths "what" as a response. Sgt. Vestergaard shrugs. Nothing of note happens for 2 minutes and 31 seconds.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** So, Antarctica. Is this like a dream occupation or punishment for screwing up, these days? We sure didn't have this position back when I was around.

**Fournier:** It is a pleasure to work for Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd., no matter the position.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Oh? So you take pleasure in being sent to the most remote location on Earth? That's intriguing.

//<Fournier sighs heavily.>//

**Test Six:** It does come with certain advantages! We are quite permitted a freedom you wouldn't see back in the United States or France for that matter. Plenty of time to think too, though I'm starting to think I'm running out of subjects to deliberate on!

**Dr. Wrenna:** That's... Comforting.

**Test Six:** I suppose I will spend some time considering shades of red tonight.

**Dr. Wrenna:** ... Glad to hear it. You have a favorite?

**Test Six:** I don't think I'm capable of having a favorite.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ... Right.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna exchange quizzical looks. Test Six smiles widely. Fournier frowns with worry. 23 seconds pass.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Any hobbies, Fournier?

**Fournier:** Driving in silence.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard purses his lips and blinks.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** It's a lovely vehicle, honestly. Didn't think anything could run in this cold.

**Fournier:** If you keep trying to make insufferable small talk, there'll be two things nearby that can do that.

//<Dr. Wrenna clicks his tongue.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ... I suppose I'll save it for later, then.

**Fournier:** Good.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard looks to Dr. Wrenna and raises his eyebrows twice in rapid succession. Dr. Wrenna returns a bewildered look before staring ahead.>//

**Test Six:** I do believe I can feel it. Turn 3 degrees to the left, Ms. Fournier.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Feel it--?

//<Dr. Wrenna blinks a few times. He looks slightly to the left.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** How odd. I suppose I do feel a slight drop in my stomach when I look that way.

**Test Six:** Oh? I sense a headache rather than that. Uncomfortable, either way.

**Fournier:** Yeah, me too, Test.

//<Fournier looks in the rearview mirror at Sgt. Vestergaard who is currently going making several grimaces in rapid succession, seemingly practicing how to make a grotesque quizzical look. She sighs.>//

//<The vehicle comes to a halt in the snowstorm and the group, save Test Six, inspect their firearms quietly. Test Six stares ahead with a smile.>//

**Fournier:** Yeah, reckon we ain't going to make it long out in that shit. At least I won't, you three freaks might.

**Test Six:** Is freak, at least in this context, a compliment?

**Fournier:** Sure, //princesse//.

**Test Six:** Thank you! I will remain here, though. I am under strict orders to protect Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd. assets.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright then, we'll head out.

//<Dr. Wrenna eyes the rough shape of an obelisk in the distance with a frown.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Maybe you ought to do it? You're a lot more experienced with scouting, and I'm not a particularly good field researcher.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Buddy, you can nullify everything that comes at you. I need your eyes, man. Mine will be attacked by the constant cold, even through these goggles. I'll also die a few times, most likely.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard attempts to open the door with great effort, given the strong winds he initially fails. He looks at Fournier in the rearview mirror, who currently seems unimpressed, and inhales sharply before he slams a shoulder against the door, forcing it open. He steps outside in the powerful winter snowstorm and lets the door be closed by the wind. Dr. Wrenna simply leaves the vehicle.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ALRIGHT. IT'S OVER THERE, RIGHT?

**Dr. Wrenna:** WHAT?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** THE OBELISK.

**Dr. Wrenna:** //ASTERIX AND OBELIX//?!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** What-- NO. HOW MANY FRENCH COMICS DID YOU-- THE //PILLAR//.

**Dr. Wrenna:** OH, RIGHT. THIS WAY!

//<The pair starts walking towards the pillar. As they approach it, the snowstorm seems to ease, until it finally completely fades.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Well that's-- strange.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Suppose it's an anomalous storm?

//<A large, hexagon cylinder stands in front of them, covered with ice and snow. It is made of slightly oxidized copper, barely visible through the almost mirror-like reflection of the light blue, iced-over surface. A placard with Latin text is visible, though unreadable at this time.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Huh, well there we go. That's a pillar alright.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Copper seems to be in... Bad quality. Curious.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard retrieves his phone and turns it horisontally. He starts taking pictures of its every angle with a bored expression.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** You do chemistry, what falls to mind other than that?

**Dr. Wrenna:** Well. I'm noticing a lot of holes in the surface of the copper itself, I suppose the frost has made it prone to bursting if there's a few thin layers. It doesn't seem to have been here long though, it hasn't oxidized that much yet. Maybe the ice protects it? I'm not that well-versed on metals.

//<A loud buzzing is heard. The pair seems to disregard it for now.>//

//Sgt. Vestergaard:// Right, fun, fun. Marvelous.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard keeps taking pictures. He changes the camera mode and takes a picture of himself, Dr. Wrenna and SCP-9070-Alpha.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** It's, odd, isn't it? For some reason the world becomes normal for a few seconds and all hell breaks lose, thanks to this-- stupid shape.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** People have lost their minds over less.

//<The buzzing increases in volume.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Are you affected by the pillar?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Not... I don't think so. I can't really relate to Test and yours sensations. I suppose my anomaly is a bit too powerful to be functionally suppressed by it. Or, well--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard blinks.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Maybe you're just not the source of the anomaly?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Huh. Maybe.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard wrinkles his nose.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Man, that drone is annoying. Wish it'd shut up.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard freezes (unrelated to his current environment) in place. He slowly glances to Dr. Wrenna, before looking around.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** The drone that-- we can't hear is noisy?

//<Dr. Wrenna ceases all movements for a second. He slowly meets Sgt. Vestergaard's glance with his own.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** The... drone that lets out a counter-frequency so we can't hear it is...

//<Sgt. Vestergaard immediately drops his phone, draws his firearm and spins around. A rough outline of a person is visible - he aims at discharges his sidearm at the individual. Blood appears on the snow behind the person and they collapse.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright, eyes up! Ambush!

**Dr. Wrenna:** How-- the hell did you sneak up on us without making noise?!

//<Dr. Wrenna fidgets with his sidearm's holster and fails to retrieve his pistol. Sgt. Vestergaard shoots past Dr. Wrenna, causing blood to appear on SCP-9070-Alpha and the snow around it.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I can't believe your stupid theory is right. Disguising themselves as mechanical sounds...

//<Dr. Wrenna opens his mouth and raises his eyebrow.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Fucking-- Steelchain Daggers? Wait, they actually exist? Thought they--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard discharges two shots into the distance, causing two pools of blood to appear.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** --were actually a myth. Huh.

//<Dr. Wrenna retrieves his sidearm and looks around. He fails to identify any individuals.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** How do you--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Take a chance, man.

**Dr. Wrenna:** I'm not just-- going to fire my gun at random!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Why not? You got three magazines.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard discharges his sidearm 5 times. A single pool of blood appears. His back is slashed, causing him to curse as he stumbles ahead. He spins around and discharges the gun several times towards the presumed assailant's location, though he doesn't hit. Dr. Wrenna looks down the ironsight of his pistol and tries to locate a hostile. He doesn't seem to succeed.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** I can't--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** George, I need you to snap out of it a bit I'm-- getting overwhelmed here!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard's left arm sustains a deep laceration, he becomes unable to move it. He discharges the remaining bullets from his sidearm and succeeds in hitting an individual.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Start firing!

//<Dr. Wrenna inhales sharply and starts unloading his firearm's entire magazine. He succeeds in hitting a single target. He starts trying to reloading his sidearm.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Thorstein I--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** No time!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard releases his emptied magazine onto the ground and places the pistol's grip near a magazine on his belt. A custom modification to his sidearm, a magnetic pull, pulls a new magazine into the pistol. He manages to discharge it three times.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I don't think ther--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard's chest bursts as two invisible blades are inserted into his torso and are roughly ripped out. Dr. Wrenna blinks and seems to cease all movement at this.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Thor--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard collapses, expiring from shock.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** HELLO? WHAT? DON'T DO THAT NOW.

//<Dr. Wrenna slides the magazine into his firearm and looks around in slight panic. He starts discharging his firearm several times. As he empties his ammunition, he starts hyperventilating. He didn't hit anyone. He reaches for more ammunition and takes a deep breath. He presses the release to slide out the empty magazine and calmly inserts the unspent rounds into the sidearm. Dr. Wrenna starts attempting to control his breath. He inspects the area. He takes a shot at a suspected individual, causing blood to splatter out on the snow.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Final--

//<Dr. Wrenna's anomaly activates. His shape is outlined by a bright orange. He looks around and tries to find the assailant.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Come on... Where...

//<He falls silent. Nothing seems to happen. Sgt. Vestergaard bleeds upon the snow. The buzzing seems to fade. Dr. Wrenna doesn't appear to be capable of spotting anything.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Where the fuck are you...?

//<His anomaly triggers again. He spins around. It glows weaker. Dr. Wrenna's eyes widen.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** What--

//<The anomaly is triggered once more. The shield fades in equal measure as earlier. Dr. Wrenna looks to the pillar with his eyes widened.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Oh shit.

//<The anomaly glitters weakly. Dr. Wrenna seems to do his best to focus. He doesn't find any targets.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** I--

//<The anomaly lights up like late twilight.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** ...

//<The anomaly is barely there.>//

...

//<The anomaly fades.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Shi--

//<Test Six, with her arms and legs surrounded by rotating chainlinks much like a chainsaw, slides towards Dr. Wrenna and starts rotating around him. She is kneeling, yet propelling herself forwards by the rapidly rotating chainsaw on her legs. Blood splatters heavily in a circle. Test Six's mouth is agape, her jaw split in two. Her teeth runs down the split part of her mouth, also like a chainsaw rotating around.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** What the fuck is--

//<Test Six comes to a halt and stands. She looks to Dr. Wrenna. Her mouth doesn't move, and she speaks in three voices layered ontop another.>//

**Test Six:** [[span style="text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black, 1 1 25px blue, 1 1 5px red;]] Ready to go? [[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Uhh-- yes! We have what we need.

//<Dr. Wrenna swipes Sgt. Vestergaard's phone and pockets it. He starts dragging Sgt. Vestergaard towards the vehicle as Test Six drifts around them. They approach the vehicle without more attacks. Fournier waves a hand, holding an assault rifle with the other.>//

**Test Six:** [[span style="text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px black, 1 1 25px blue, 1 1 5px red;]] Can you start the vehicle, Ms. Fournier? [[/span]]

**Fournier:** On it!

//<Dr. Wrenna opens the door, fighting against the wind as he does. He succeeds on the third attempts and drags himself and Sgt. Vestergaard's corpse into the vehicle. Test Six, after leaving the drone's view, returns to her normal appearance and enters on the passenger's side. She folds her hands in her lap and stares straight ahead. Fournier starts the vehicle, Dr. Wrenna closes the door, and the two and a half living humanoids drives back towards Goldpoint.>//

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-7: Excerpt regarding synthesizing gold
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote cinzel-decorative-bold" style="background-color: #bdac8f;color: #1c1b0e;border: 2px solid #4a4a4a"]]

[[=]]
++* Creating Gold
+++* //by **J. Dee**, May 4th, 2019//

[[/=]]
****

You can create gold. It is possible.

However, you must be aware that you will unleash approximately 0.01kt per 1g of gold. That is roughly the same energy output as the largest non-nuclear explosion deployed in overveil war.

The answer to do this quite possibly simpler than you can imagine: Combining atoms. The methods for achieving this requires pure materials. That is to say, you need to measure out your atoms rather well. A task requiring management so fine that mundane science must build structures the size of cities to consistently merge two atoms.

We're not bound by such boring limitation. The first thing you need is ██ █████ █████▇▇▇▆▆▆▅▅▅▄▄▄▃▃▃▂▂▂▁▁▁
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-8: Dr. Wrenna's attempt at synthesizing gold
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 3 DAYS, 18 HOURS AND 33 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

-----

Following negotiations with the Goldpoint Refuge, Dr. Wrenna has been gathering ingredients to synthesize roughly $1,000,000 worth of pure gold. Due to SCP-9070's global impact, the settlement has been approved by the O5 Council.

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna are roughly 15km away from Goldpoint, where Dr. Wrenna has gathered the necessary reagents for transmutating molecular oxygen into gold. This is expected to set off an explosion equivalent to the B83 nuclear bomb.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I know I've said it a lot, bu--

**Dr. Wrenna:** I fumbled, yes! I know! Heard it inbetween the, gods damned-- taunting and bragging about what women you've slept with over the few centuries! Please!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** We just had to offer him the Coalition agents.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Look, the fact we even had the opportunity to make an offer is a miracle in and of itself. I don't know why your standards for nonsensically small likelihoods of success are so high.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** It's not likelihood if you know what you're doing.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Whatever, old man. Can you focus on getting to safety so I can begin the transmutation?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard waves dismissively and turns around. He departs for Goldpoint.>//

**[IMMINENT THREAT DETECTED. FOLLOWING SECONDARY OBSERVATION TARGET.]**

//<Dr. Wrenna turns around when Sgt. Vestergaard has moved approximately 47 meters away.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** And don't fuck the security!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard spins on his heels and shouts back to Dr. Wrenna, gesturing excessively with his arms.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Such sudden vulgarity from such a little man! I would never, I have both standards and a mission!

**Dr. Wrenna:** Whatever you have, just don't have a thing for the woman with the assault rifle!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard makes a rude gesture towards Dr. Wrenna and walks away.>//

**[3 MINUTES AND 6 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard stops walking and looks over his shoulder. He takes off his left glove and looks at the scar on his palm. He takes off the other glove and runs a hand over the area he was shot on his forehead. There isn't any scar tissue.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ... Can't quite remember last...

//<Sgt. Vestergaard runs his fingertips down the scar. He sighs, puts his gloves back on and returns to Goldpoint Refuge.>//

**[5 HOURS, 11 MINUTES AND 49 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard approaches Goldpoint Refuge. Of note, he passed away from hypothermia six times on his way back. He taps his foot on the trapdoor thrice and takes a few steps back. Five seconds later, the decoy trapdoor starts rising and reveals the two floor lift. Once fully raised, Sgt. Vestergaard steps in and starts descending.>//

**Test Six:** [Through speaker] Welcome back, Mr. Vestergaard! Has the deadly winter treated you well?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard scoffs and rolls his eyes.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** I enjoyed warmer company out there, really.

**Test Six:** [Through speaker] Such a shame! Heard you have had lots of warmth around here, though!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard emerges in the lobby. Test Six is behind the reception desk and offers a wave. Notably, three figures are present in the lobby that the drone hadn't picked up on from the previous days spent in Goldpoint. Sgt. Vestergaard walks through the room.>//

**[INDIVIDUAL IDENTIFIED. PARATECHNOLOGY DETECTED.]**

//<The drone unfocuses from Sgt. Vestergaard to scan the person of interest sitting by a table off to the side of the room. An individual wearing a lowcut, dark red shirt, black cargo pants and a large wintercoat is cleaning a pistol, identified as a modified VP70. The person is wearing red fingerless gloves made of leather, with the exposed fingers consisting seemingly of carbon fibre-like material. In addition, the person is equipped with a Colt 733 assault rifle and a SPAS-15 shotgun is leaned up against the back of an adjacent chair. As the drone approaches, the person seems to react to the presence of the drone by glancing towards its general direction.>//

**[ENGAGING SAFE STEALTH PROTOCOL. RETURNING TO SGT. VESTERGAARD.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard approaches the reception and leans over, speaking in a hushed manner to Test Six.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** My lad's making the gold. Have you disposed of the Coalition operatives as discussed?

**Test Six:** Handled by the good gentleman over there!

//<Test Six gestures towards the individual that the drone scanned. He returns an upward nod.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Wonderful! Then I suppose our business is handled and MC&D will guard the obelisk?

//<Test Six smiles politely and cants her head to the side.>//

**Test Six:** For the next three days, yes-- but shouldn't you be discussing this with Monsieur Vavar?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** ... You wouldn't be wrong. You are a clear favorite due to us two lacking a murderous relationship-- unlike Vavar and I.

**Test Six:** I'm sure //le Monsieur// meant nothing personal, a mere test of your famed abilities! You are a bit of a legend in our organization.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard pulls the membership card with Maximillian Carter's name out of his pocket. He flips it around to look at the Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. logo which was used between 1920-1953.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yeah, well. I just wanted to live it up big and happened to be willing to do whatever for that goal. I just wanted to eat at fine restaurants, missy.

**Test Six:** I hear you were in pursuit of a lot more than cuisine, though. New York gossips that you enjoyed many things.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard scoffs and pushes himself off the counter. He walks towards the manager's office with heavy steps.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Sorry girlie, don't got time for diving into nostalgia.

**Test Six:** Of course! Good luck, Mr. Vestergaard.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard waves half-heartedly. He approaches the manager's office and rasps his knuckles against it thrice.>//

**Vavar:** [Muffled] Come on in!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard pushes the door ajar, inspecting the gap the opening has created.>//

**Vavar:** You fucking-- you fucking think I'd trap the door that guests are invited through? What? Did you not manage to regenerate your Alzheimer's away, you old sack?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard sighs audibly and steps inside the office, closing the door after him. The drone barely manages to fly inside before its way of entrance is eliminated.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Ought to be a bit more considerate of how you mouth loosely about your elders. You're going to end up as one of them a lot sooner than you think.

**Vavar:** Ha! You and I both know that nobody dies of old age in MC&D anyways.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard looks past Vavar with a blank expression. He rubs his left palm with his right hand.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** We should feel the explosion soon, then I'll have a Foundation vehicle transport the gold here. Then the pillar is to be protected by MC&D forces for three--

**Vavar:** Yeah, yeah! You'll get your 3 days! No more than that, though. A million in gold might be worth a lot, but it ain't groundbreaking money.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Good.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard places his hands in his pockets and glances at a painting of the Marshall, Carter and Dark Ltd. Skyscraper in Manhattan, New York City.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Is that where you got started?

**Vavar:** Oh, no-no. I started young. Carter Family loved getting little rats like my brother and I to run errands. Made it easy to write it off as kids being stupid. Eventually I got caught and was old enough to face jail, so...

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** They made you an official member upon being released?

**Vavar:** Oh, no. One of your boys came and picked up a bunch of us, sent us to a Foundation site in The Bronx. Had me test all sort of things, hence--

//<Vavar grins widely, showing his numerous golden teeth.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Sorry to hear that.

**Vavar:** Nah, it's the business.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yeah.

//<The conversation pauses for 3 seconds.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Self-made escape or group effort?

//<Vavar chuckles and leans back in his chair.>//

**Vavar:** Think I'd be sitting here if I relied on others? Biggest guy in the room runs the show, y'know.

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yeah. I'll get out of your hair, whatever is left of it.

**Vavar:** Yeah, yeah. Damnable immortals and their hairlines...

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** And please, don't make me use my immortal years on being...

//<Sgt. Vestergaard hums for a bit and cants his head to the side to glance at Vavar over his shoulder.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Petty, I suppose.

//<Vavar squints slightly and raises an eyebrow. He nods slowly.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Glad we could come to an agreem--

//<The conversation is interrupted by yelling and gunshots heard from the lobby. Both Vavar and Sgt. Vestergaard looks to the door.>//

**Vavar:** Wh-- why would you turn on me now?! What? You had the deal!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Not me, this has to be internal affairs!

**Vavar:** What the fuck do I have in //Antarctica// that wants to bring me down?

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Run afoul of any penguins lately!?

**Vavar:** Piss off!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard freezes halfway into drawing his sidearm. He has a confused expression. A subtle ticking sound is heard behind the door.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Is-- tha--

//<The door is suddenly propelled into the room with a loud whirl. Half a second later, it is followed by a dark grey shockwave with a metallic consistency. Vavar vaults over his desk and Sgt. Vestergaard takes cover in an indent. Black smoke obscures the outside.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Vavar, say something!

**Vavar:** Still here!

//<Vavar coughs.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Good, do you have a weapon?!

**Vavar:** Inappropriate use of singular phrasing!

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Stay put, I'll investigate!

**Vavar:** Yep!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard checks the chamber of his H&K USP, and shortly after leans over to glance towards the door. As he does, a bullet ricochetes off the door frame, into a bust on the opposite side of the room, the painting of Vavar in the back of the room and hits the spot here Sgt. Vestergaard just leaned away from. He smacks his lips.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** [Whispers] Another bloody trickshooter? Goodness, when will they learn to do something new?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard leaps out of his cover towards the center of the room, firing thrice with his pistol towards the door. He lands roughly and immediately stands up. A figure is seen running past the cloud, although no footsteps can be heard. Sgt. Vestergaard perks an eyebrow.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Curious... a silent trickshooter...

//<Sgt. Vestergaard grumbles something under his breath and starts approaching the door. He slows down as he nears the door and rummages through an inner pocket, retrieving a small empty vial that is part of the standard Mobile Task Force kit. He gently tosses it out the door. A shot is heard and the vial is shattered.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Why, aren't you adorable!? Why not talk it out, I promise I'm a good listener!

//<Nothing responds to Sgt. Vestergaard's vocalization.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Oh, you too? You should've said so. It all sort of started when I, at the age of 5--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard slowly lowers himself while he speaks.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Started pulling potatoes at Ma and Pa's fa--

//<A bullet flies over Sgt. Vestergaard's head and directly through the point his head was at before he lowered himself. Sgt. Vestergaard immediately sprints ahead and jumps sideways out the door, firing off 5 shots towards the end of the hallway and into the lobby. The individual the drone scanned earlier pulls around the corner into cover. Sgt. Vestergaard seeks cover behind a pillar in the hallway.>//

**[HOSTILE ENTITY DETECTED. ASSIGNING IDENTITY "THREAT SIGMA".]**

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Ahem-- farm, it was here I--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard starts sprinting and jumps out into the opening, firing 2 shots at Threat Sigma's presumed location. Threat Sigma is nowhere to be seen, causing Sgt. Vestergaard to exclaim in an annoyed manner. He rushes to the reception desk and vaults over it.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** //Fanden og Vor Herre til hest//, you're persistent! You could've easily secured a comfortable position somewhere, no? Unless you have already!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard glances down to Test Six who is laying on the floor with a gunshot wound through her forehead. She has a polite smile.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Well that's not nice, I'm sure she'd have given you a chance if you asked nicely! You one of them //inn cellars//?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard turns his head away from Test Six. A few seconds after he does so, a metallic, miniature entity, reminiscient of a centipede, crawls out of the bullet hole. It crawls under Test Six's hair.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** How did you even get the drop on that floozy-- anyways, cheer up! I'm sure there's some women who'll feel pity for you eventually!

//<Sgt. Vestergaard suddenly shifts further towards the other side of the reception desk, about a meter away from his original position. Three seconds later, a bullet ricochets off the ceiling, into the wall behind the reception desk and a bit to the side where Sgt. Vestergaard was originally positioned, roughly the midway point between his current and previous position. Sgt. Vestergaard slumps over, apparently to mimic being hit and collapsing.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** [Whispering] Come on, take the bait...

//<Sgt. Vestergaard doesn't move and remains still for an extended period of time. He twitches an eye about 15 seconds in, seemingly in annoyance. 30 seconds in, he flares his nostrils and clenches a fist. 45 seconds in, he reaches for his sidearm. 60 seconds in, he stands up. 61 seconds in, he shoots.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Alright, this jest is ov--

//<Sgt. Vestergaard is shot at point blank range with a SPAS-15 shotgun and falls backwards into the wall. He looks up at Threat Sigma, who stands idly in front of the desk.>//

**Threat Sigma:** [[span style="font-family: FreeMono, monospace; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; font-size: 16px"]]  Guess you don't need to be a corpse to have died of old age, eh? [[/span]]

//<Sgt. Vestergaard widens his eyes and scowls at Threat Sigma.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Slimey piece of //SHIT//-- you better be across the ocean when I--

//<Threat Sigma shoots Sgt. Vestergaard in the head, which causes him to expire. Threat Sigma turns around and moves towards the exit lift, halting by Fournier's corpse briefly to take her AR-S4 and matching magazines.>//

**Threat Sigma:** [[span style="font-family: FreeMono, monospace; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; font-size: 16px"]] Sweet dreams, old man. The blood-debt has been paid, the Steelchain Chapel accepts your payment. [[/span]]

//<Threat Sigma enters the lift and presses a button. He slowly ascends out of view.>//

//<The room falls quiet.>//

**[2 MINUTES AND 13 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<The entity which emerged from Test Six's bullet wound can be seen crawling through Fournier's mouth. Shortly after, the corpse spasms and anomalously regenerates. Fournier is seemingly revitalized.>//

**Fournier:** Oh goodness! Caught me by quite a surprise, it seems. Mr Vestergaard, have you regenerated yet?

//<A moment lasting 4 seconds passes.>//

**Fournier:** I'll take that as a no! I'll go inspect the manager's office to confirm Vavar's status, be back in a jiffy!

//<Fournier departs towards the manager's office. A blast shakes the facility, matching up with the expected explosion from Dr. Wrenna's transmutation.>//

**[1 MINUTE AND 46 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard slowly ascends from behind the desk. He closes his eyes and runs his hands through his hair, slowly turning around to face the wall. He mutters something inaudible and roughly scratches his scalp with his nails. He cants his head back. He lets out a frustrated yell and kicks a trash bin over.>//

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-9: Chaos Insurgency cell located on the outskirts of Leicester, England 
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 4 DAYS, 12 HOURS AND 25 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD; border: 3px double #CC2936; padding: 15px; margin-bottom: 10px"]]

**FOREWORD:** Isolated cell of the Chaos Insurgency operating mostly under sleeper protocol. It is presumed the cell received a signal to activate and meet up in a safehouse that had been put under surveillance by intelligence agents. All four individual's identity has been acquired from local law enforcement.

* **Genevieve Westminister**, 27 year old female, artist. Known by law enforcements for defacing properties and statues.
* **Ghassan al-Hakim**, 20 year old male, unemployed. Suspected former D-Class, considered leader of the cell.
* **Isaac Marsh**, 27 year old male, pyrotechnician. Suspected ties to the Irish Republican Army.
* **Rufus Khan**, 23 year old male, known by law enforcement for association with local gangs. Lead vocalist for the punk band "BLØØD$GØRE"

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<al-Hakim can be seen approaching the door through the dirty shed window. He walks out of view briefly before he kicks the shed's door down. Its hinges fail due to the impact. The door kicks up dust that makes al-Hakim cough violently and wave his hand in front of his face.>//

**al-Hakim:** Fuck! Bloody cabin seen better days.

//<al-Hakim surveys the interior for a few seconds before turning around letting out a sharp whistle. Khan, Marsh and Westminister approaches, each carrying large hiking backpacks.>//

**Khan:** Mate, the fuck is this? This is the headquarters for the Insurgency? You're shitting me.

**Westminister:** Obviously not, it's the safehouse, yeah?

//<Westminister drops her backpack next to the entrance of the door and sighs.>//

**Westminister:** Doesn't look that safe, though? Could certainly use a spring cleaning.

//<Marsh steps inside and drops his backpack in the middle of the room.>//

**Marsh:** A-ha-ha-ha... what's the rent on this place... shitstain property...

//<al-Hakim removes an old cloth covering an old table in the middle of the room. He tosses the cloth outside and places his backpack on the table, opening it and retrieves a large, rolled-up map, a file and 4 earpieces. He rolls the map out, revealing it to be an old map of Rome, Italy.>//

**al-Hakim:** Alright, need you to focus up. We're not playing games anymore. This shit just got real.

**Khan:** Said that last week too when Mills got snatched for smoking leaf, man. What, are you in trouble with the nonces again?

**al-Hakim:** No man, //Insurgency// serious. There's a reason why you're seeing this shitehole now, mans.

**Marsh:** Y'alright? Who are you and where's Kims?

**al-Hakim:** Take this seriously. If you still think I'm joking...

//<al-Hakim walks over to the corner of the room and pulls up a floorboard, revealing 3 AK-74 assault rifles, a Dragunov sniper rifle and 8 Webley Revolvers.>//

**Westminister:** Where the shit did you get those? If you had those all along, why haven't you shown us before now!?

**Khan:** We could take the fight to the coppers with this shit!

**al-Hakim:** Taking out a few nonces with badges isn't shit in comparison to taking out the real oppressors.

**Marsh:** Daaamn... a-ha-ha-ha... are we finally getting started?

**al-Hakim:** Yeah. Now, shut the fuck up and let me speak.

//<Khan raises his hands in an apologetic manner and leans against the wall.>//

**al-Hakim:** We got a call from above, not just that bitch who thinks she's the shit, no no. Real top. Delta type shit.

**Westminister:** Wait, isn't that--

**al-Hakim:** Bloody Engineer and their crew, yeah.

**Marsh:** Whoa... a-ha-ha...

**Khan:** Why the fuck does the big wig care about us?

**al-Hakim:** Don't know, not our place to know. Guy's smart as hell, yeah? They tell us to be somewhere, we will be there. Smack up some Foundation shit. Ain't here in home, though. We're going to--

//<al-Hakim taps the old map of Rome twice. He opens the file he retrieved from his backpack, revealing four different flight tickets.>//

**Westminister:** Shite Almighty.

**Marsh:** Can't believe we're actually getting to do something... Been itching to put a bullet in some brass ever since last year...

**al-Hakim:** Yeah. I'm dropping off our guns at a spot, smugglers will get our guns to Rome. You're going tonight Gen, Isaac goes tomorrow and Khan in 3 days. I'm arriving in 5. All expenses paid, but if you are going to get shitfaced, please do it somewhere that looks affordable for us, yeah cunts?

**Khan:** Heh. Alright. What about when we get to Rome?

**al-Hakim:** We're to await orders, but the way I heard it from London, right?

//<al-Hakim smiles and rhytmically moves his head from side to side.>//

**al-Hakim:** We're teaming up with the Snakes...

**Westminister:** Ooooooooh. The magicians... alright, alright, starting to like this more...

**Khan:** Ain't them the woke kids?

**al-Hakim:** They might be napping for all I care, who gives a shite. Don't know anything, Miss Whore will tell us more in Rome. Now, knowing them Found-Feds, we've already burned this place. Let's get the fuck out there and meet up in Rome, grab an earpiece, don't let any freaks see it. Understood?

//<The group seems to widely agree.>//

**al-Hakim:** Now get the fuck out.

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-2-10: Report to O5-5 from an embedded Foundation agent in the Vatican
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 5 DAYS, 1 HOUR AND 4 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote" style="background-color: #bfb79f;color: #211313;border: 7px outset #211313;border-radius: 4px"]]

The Hand, The Insurgency and The Free Order of Nadox[[footnote]] Religious group of Nälkän descendance. They are primarily found in Rome as well as in surrounding villages, where they are assumed to practice rituals with a focus on converting biological matter into building materials for Nälkän holy sites. [[/footnote]] have put aside their differences and formed an alliance. I can hardly believe that this kind of inter-GoI communication would be possible. I learned this from an Insurgent operative, fragile and scared little thing. Had him spit out what he was told, which was not much. This alone is, by far, noteworthy.

It is the following matter that makes it an emergency.

I think the Coalition has allied with the Rome branch of the Horizon Initiative and the Church of the Broken God. Those two consider each other mortal enemies. They think each other heretical. I don't know why. I don't know how. But there are soldiers in Rome. They aren't being very discreet, but I notice the shootouts at night. The overveil is protesting "gang war" and are getting desperate to stop this.

To say that Rome is escalating is an understatement. There's something that these two parties know that I don't, and I sure as hell know that you do.

-████████ ███

[[/div]]

[[=]]
+ Document 3: Gamma Pillar
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote cinzel-decorative-regular" style="background-color: #242022;color: d4a9be;text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000"]]
My experiences have repeated many a time on this journey. I've been met with a satisfaction for the powers that be, by those who hold it and by those who are oppressed by it.

Why?

Do they not see that this world order is to their detriment? Do they not understand that every man ought to have an equal right to bread, warmth and sunlight? It is often cited to me by both fools and wisemen that one cannot stop the sun from rising or setting.

But we are beings. The sun is celestial. Why do people equate that which is for that which cannot change?

I'm frustrated. Though, I've met more who are as I. Vengeful beings who have also been suppressed by the order of day and night. They seem to be more atuned to the prospect of burning rather than building. I've brought them with me.

Maybe I am wrong to consider that this world can be built on. Perhaps one must become acquainted with ash to grow a field.

Perhaps I am going about this mission in a manner much too mild. I must adapt.

**-Contranumen**
[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-3-1: Children-Hand incident in Dakar, Senegal
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 5 DAYS, 2 HOURS AND 32 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #273043;color: #E1F1FD;border: 3px double #CC2936; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Captured on surveillance equipment recently installed by [[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]'s personal task force, Alpha-25 "Shadow Wizards M.G." in Dakar, Senegal.

-----

//<The camera is positioned to have an overview of an alleyway with a suspected Way[[footnote]] A portal often used to gain entrance to and from the Wanderer's Library, but can lead to other locales if they are connected to another Way. [[/footnote]] used by Serpent's Hand operatives. A middle-aged white male wearing an open, plain green robe runs through the alley armed with a wand in each hand. This individual is suspected to be Jas Weißenwrachz and will be referred to as such in the transcript. A red, thin projectile is shot down the alley and hits a protective barrier around Weißenwrachz.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** //Sau//!

//<Weißenwrachz turns around and points both of his wands towards the direction of the first projectile. An individual wearing a red jacket, black leggings and a pair of plated, dark gauntlets with glowing red symbols on them, walks into view. This person is suspected to be Adaline Carpenter and will be referred to such in the transcript.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** Can you understand English? I am not looking for a fight!

//<Carpenter snaps her fingers and manifests a new red projectile that flies at Weißenwrachz. This time the projectile is parried with thaumaturgy and shoots into the wall to his left.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** We've been leaving each other well enough alone, why this all of a sudden!?

//<Carpenter is about to snap her fingers again but halts. She waits 3 seconds before answering. Weißenwrachz breathes heavily.>//

**Carpenter:** It is The King's decree. It is not you I wish to inflict harm upon, but your banner.

**Weißenwrachz:** Look, don't know your business with the Hand, but whatever it is I'm sure it isn't above diplomacy!

**Carpenter:** It is.

//<Before Carpenter can snap her fingers, Weißenwrachz twists his left wand and conjures a thaumaturgic projectile from his right wand. As Carpenter snaps, she is affected by her own reality bending and shatters an invisible barrier around her. Weißenwrachz' projectile hits her and causes her to collapse. She still appears conscious.>//

**Carpenter:** Pathetic trickster! An insulting misuse of magic!

**Weißenwrachz:** If I must be pathetic to not take a life today, that's a sacrifice I'm willingly undergoing. Spell should wear off in an hour, unless you're practiced in dispelling, that is?

//<Carpenter growls something between gritted teeth. Weißenwrachz shrugs.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** Guessed so. You Children should look into adapting your spells for "pathetic tricksters" as you put it, otherwise you'll have no chance against a seasoned wizard!

//<Weißenwrachz knocks on the wall to his side. A Way appears, seemingly leading into a wooden interior.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** I'll lock this behind me, so no need to bother running me down! Best of luck for your crusade of vague intentions!

**Carpenter:** I want-- peace.

//<Weißenwrachz halts halfway through the Way and sticks his head out. He scratches his beard.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** Peace? The Children want... peace.

**Carpenter:** I don't care what the rest of us wants. I want peace. From the yelling and screeching. From the curse that I inhereted by blood. The Towers will cure me, as they will you.

//<Weißenwrachz frowns.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** Why didn't you come to us?

//<Carpenter spits and frowns at Weißenwrachz.>//

**Carpenter:** You're not willing to do what it takes. You would rather have me suffer than pay the proper price it'd take. I tried begging. It didn't work[[footnote]] Foundation assets suggest that if this is an Exacratus-class anomaly, it'd take considerable human resources to reverse the effect. [[/footnote]].

//<Weißenwrachz is silent for 5 seconds.>//

**Weißenwrachz:** I'm sorry.

//<Weißenwrachz leaves through the Way which disintegrates behind him. Carpenter whispers something inaudible in a frustrated manner for the next 10 minutes and 32 seconds before she starts sobbing.>//

**<END LOG>**

-----

**AFTERWORD:** 18 minutes and 11 seconds after this event, Carpenter was captured by an Alpha-25 MTF agent and contained at a safehouse.

-----

[[/div]]

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-3-2: Message to the O5 Council from O5-4
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 5 DAYS, 17 HOURS AND 45 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

A message was received from [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]] via thaumaturgic crystal orb and transcribed by the Thaumaturgy and Countercursing Division of Site-03 for O5 Council deliberation.

[[div class="great" style="background-color: #3a124f;color: #c1bcc4;border: 10px groove #aba393; border-radius: 5px; text-shadow: 2px 2px #000000; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** All of MTF Alpha-24 “Four Hands” are present alongside [[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:
* Cpt. Naschalia Ygri
* Sgt. Guillaume de Toulouse
* Pvt. Rijae Joshi
* SCP-████, "Test Eight"

-----

//<The connection fades in, causing the high pitched white noise to fade and the transmission to come through.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** -is Four. I apologize for the hectic--

**Cpt. Ygri:** I don't think pistol rounds are working!

**Pvt. Joshi:** Need a good hi--

//<The conversation is rendered inaudible by the sound of something wooden snapping.>//

**Sgt. de Toulouse:** TEST, NOT THE MAST.

//<Bestial screaming.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** As I was saying, I apologize for the hectic situation. We're stuck at sea and had to go through desperate measures to obtain contact. There are unholy, red-scaled beasts out here. I am not quite sure of their origin, but they seem to be capable of creating an anomalous space to trap my--...

**Sgt. de Toulouse:** Rijae, did you animate the harpoon?!

**Pvt. Joshi:** Negative, fish must've done it!

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** Associates and I.

//<A loud crash is heard, presumably the mast falling into the water. It is followed by a seemingly celebratory roar from an undefined source.>//

**Cpt. Ygri:** Wait, we got one! Need something heavy to crash into them!

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** Due to us channeling this message thaumaturgically, we seem to have put them in an... Agitated state. Unfortunate. We can't make it to Dakar in time, there are four dozens beasts surrounding my...

//<Silence falls for 2 seconds.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** Mastless vessel. We will try to survive and then retreat, but we will not be ready for conflict even if we make it to Dakar in time. It'd seem that the bullets are--?

**Cpt. Ygri:** Damned, sir!

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** Damned. Not to mention the fatigue of my exceptional bodyguards. It is my suggestion that we try to make amends with whatever Groups of Interest may be in Brazil to secure the Amazonas pillar.

//<A loud, persistent roar from somewhere distant is heard.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-4" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-4[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Warlock[[/span]][[/span]]:** I will go for now. I am pretty sure that something the size of a celestial object is rising above the horiz-- it'd surely appear so. I am needed. Farewell.

//<The connection fades.>//

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ Addendum 9070-3-3: Alpha Pillar investigation
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 5 DAYS, 23 HOURS AND 31 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Following a deal made with Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. by Dr. Wrenna, 50 mercenaries of aforementioned loyalty have been mobilized to secure SCP-9070-Alpha. Due to the failure of Goldpoint Refuge to provide "proper protection", the Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd. mercenaries will be guarding SCP-9070-Alpha for the next week. [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] has gone to investigate personally and has been accompanied by senior researcher Prof. Aleca von Leisere, who is an expert on Exacratus-Class anomalies.

-----

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] and Prof. von Leisere are standing approximately 53m away from the pillar, with both of them averting their eyes from it. Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna stands about 5m away from the previous pair alongside the person formerly known as Fournier, who has been identified as Test Six.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** So you are certain that SCP-9070 is Exacratus-Class?

//<Test Six whispers something to Dr. Wrenna. Sgt. Vestergaard glances towards the two.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Curse.

//<Test Six smiles politely and nods appreciatively.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** Without a doubt. An abnormally powerful one. Typically you befoul a person, a thing, maybe a city or a country. This?

//<Prof. von Leisere gestures to the pillar with a pinky finger and goes quiet for 8 seconds. [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] remains still and quiet in her Environmental Hazard Orb[[footnote]] A transparent, hollow ball in which animals ill-suited for certain climates may hover above the ground. It currently maintains a temperature of 21 celsius, or approximately 70 fahrenheit. [[/footnote]].>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** I think it is a curse on the world itself.

//<Dr. Wrenna jolts when Prof. von Leisere speaks again.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** One must have a nigh unrivaled hatred to curse a whole planet and even its moon to go along with it.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Can you dispel it?

**Prof. von Leisere:** ... No. To dispel this anomaly, one would need to find someone who has mastered--

//<Prof. von Leisere doesn't blink from this point onwards.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** Exacratus anomalies, as well as understand-- thoroughly-- the hate the individual who caused this anomaly carried. We can decipher a bit from the pillars left behind, but even those we'd have to dispel all of.

//<Prof. von Leisere gestures in an animated manner with their cane.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** What the one who cast the curse has done is rather smart. Surprisingly calculated, even. They've managed to split their hatred into five--

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** SCP-9070-Alpha through Epsilon.

**Prof. von Leisere:** Exactly. Which is not normally something one does with negative emotions powerful enough to be used for thaumaturgy.

//<Prof. von Leisere suddenly turns on their heels and points the cane at Test Six.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** What do you hate, stranger?

//<Test Six smiles politely and raises an eyebrow. She points towards herself. Prof. von Leisere nods seven times in a row.>//

**Test Six:** Well. I suppose being seen as disposable?

**Prof. von Leisere:** Name the stages you hate of being disposable.

//<Test Six squints and clasps her hands together and taps the back of her hand idly.>//

**Test Six:** Well, I suppose the dehumanizing factor? Then, the-- well-- I suppose then the betrayal of being discarded by--

**Prof. von Leisere:** As you can see, the stranger here is obviously not trained properly in emotional regulation. She could muster, at best, two aspects of hate.

//<Test Six purses her lips slightly and glances to Dr. Wrenna who shrugs.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** This man had such calculated hatred of-- the world, I suppose-- that he managed to not only cast a sophisticated curse, but he also divided into 5, equally powerful parts.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** And emotions are notoriously hard to quantify.

**Prof. von Leisere:** Indeed. The disposable stranger notably cited a more pressing aspect first, the dehumanizing aspect. The betrayal that followed seemed to come second, though obviously I cannot know this for certain-- what I do know that those two aspects are not almost perfectly divided. They are not given an equal amount of //hate//.

//<Test Six seems to mouth "disposable?" in a confused manner. Dr. Wrenna gently places a hand on her shoulder.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** That's one part of the utterly nonsensical scaled equation, the nigh perfect control of genuine emotion. The other is the energy required. Hate is, within Exacratus anomalies at the very least, energy. But, let us be honest. You hated something 10 years ago. You've probably forgotten about it by now.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] bobs her head.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** We can't even sustain hate for decades, yet this man managed to collect energy enough that he could affect //the whole world// for a dozen seconds, and then summoned anti-anomalous pillars in the wake of the spell.

//<Prof. von Leisere falls quiet for 31 seconds. Sgt. Vestergaard impatiently shifts his weight from one leg to another every 6 seconds, seemingly frustrated. Test Six has started to smile in a very thin manner.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** Quite frankly, it is not something that is considered possible within our current understanding of Exacratus anomalies. 

//<Prof. von Leisere frowns.>//

**Prof. von Leisere:** A person cannot hate that much.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] closes her eyes and sighs. Prof. von Leisere leaves the conversation without proper dismissal and approaches SCP-9070-Alpha.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Bloody hell, Four. Why are you unavailable //now// of all times.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] lets out a short hiss.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Alright. You two.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]’s orb rotates around to face Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna. The former is busy eyeing Test Six and the latter straightens his back and arms down his side.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I need you in Dakar. Most of our efforts are still focused on containment, most of our Overseers are personally handling many matters and our operation-ready forces are spread thin.

**<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] frowns, seemingly in confusion.>**

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** There are several dangerous anomalies on the loose, we are having a hard time keeping up with amnesticization and to make it worse, the Hand and the Insurgents are making use of this chaos.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard sighs with exaggeration.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** It is our belief that Dakar is about to become a battlefield of magics. The Children of the Scarlet King and the Serpent’s Hand are fighting over the Gamma pillar. There is one group I’d prefer having control of the pillar over the other. If we can’t maintain complete control, at least I want to influence who can hold the pillar until Foundation forces are ready to fight. Help the Hand if you must, openly or discreetly. 

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** How fun, //typisk amerikansk indgreb//. Always wanted to try one of those.

<Sgt. Vestergaard scoffs and runs a hand through his uncombed hair.>

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Good. You’re leaving in 2 minutes.

//<Dr. Wrenna blinks in a confused manner.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** And the mode of– transportation, miss Ten?

//<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]’s feline features contorts into a mimicry of a grin.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Demonology.

//<Dr. Wrenna takes a deep breath. Sgt. Vestergaard starts reaching for his sidearm until Dr. Wrenna intervenes by grabbing Sgt. Vestergaard's wrist.>//

**Test Six:** Oh goodness, how harrowing.

**Dr. Wrenna:** So, when you say //demons//--

//<A member of [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]'s personal MTF, Alpha-30 "Evil Kitties", hands two standardized complaint forms to Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna. Sgt. Vestergaard inhales sharply.>//

[A 1 minute and 40 second segment of Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna filing numerous complaints has been cut due to the Secrets, Confidentiality, Privacy policy of 2008.]

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-4:** Excerpt regarding the underveil West Africa political situation
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote" style="background-color: #3b3104; text-shadow: 2px 1px #000000"]]
[[=]]
**INTELLIGENCE ANALYSIS ON THE ANOMALOUS GEOPOLITICAL SITUATION OF WEST AFRICA**
//by the Department of Intelligence & Surveillance//
[[/=]]
-----

[...]

West Africa, like the rest of the continent, has never been entirely controlled by the Foundation. Only South America, which still has considerable Foundation presence due to control of the Brazilian government, comes close to Africa's situation. This, combined with the remnants of anomalous lineages of renown, missionaries of religions originating from the west and extreme biodiversity has made it difficult for the Foundation to secure a proper foothold. This has left to very few standing sites that are expected to be fully autonomous at times.

The Sahel and the Sahara especially are home to many anomalous organizations that have managed to create permanent fortifications at a point in time where the Foundation was occupied with other matters. Due to the effort needed to construct sites and the time it takes to do so, many construction projects must frequently be abandoned due to hostile intervention from Groups of Interest.

The First Pride[[footnote]] Often referred to in Shona as Hofori Dzokutanga, the First Pride are a group of reality bender with the ability to manifest ancient reptilian lifeforms, such as specimen from the Dinosauria clade. They are able to subconsciously command them through a thaumaturgic link with an upper limit of manifestations decided by an individual's thaumaturgic capacities. The manifestations haven't been observed to expire from purely duration alone. Due to European ████████ efforts in the past centuries, they have gone into hiding. They are presumed to be located under the Sahel. Active population of the First Pride is estimated to be in the high hundreds. [[/footnote]], the Children of the Scarlet King and the Serpent's Hand remain the three largest Groups of Interest in West Africa, though that is not to say they hold geopolitical dominance. There are also many minor presences in the region, such as Marshall, Carter & Dark Ltd., the Glocal Occult Coalition, Church of the Broken God, Sarkic Cults and the Chaos Insurgency.

Foundation personnel in West Africa, especially in the Sahel and the Sahara, must always be vigilant. 

Most Foundation assets are unavailable for personnel in West Africa.

[[/div]]

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-5:** Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna's conversation enroute to Dakar, Senegal
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 6 DAYS, 8 HOURS AND 11 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div style="border:solid 3px; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;"]]

**FOREWORD:** Following their departure from Antarctica, Sgt. Vestergaard and Dr. Wrenna spent 5 hours and 21 minutes on transit to Dakar. Their mode of transportation are a pair of Malum-class[[footnote]] Designation for sentient extradimensional entities with traditionally hostile or malevolent intent towards humanity. Demons, revenants and ███████ screamers have traditionally been filed as Malum-class. The designation is currently under deliberation due to its established prejudicial nature. [[/footnote]] entities manifested by [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]], respectively known as Afrastella Maskmaker and Tarel'ka the Gilded to the Foundation. 

**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Sgt. Vestergaard is held up by his arms inbetween Afrastella Maskmaker's talons. He is wearing a Hawai'ian shirt and cargo shorts. His eyes are covered by round shades.>//

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]You're quite the delightful, doubtful morsel... shame I cannot weave you into my empire.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Doubtful? Perhaps I'm simply concerned about being held by some freaky pterodactyl's claws.

//<Sgt. Vestergaard looks off to the side towards the horizon and smiles thinly.>//

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]I do not believe it to be my grip alone that constrains you. You feel... burdensome.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Yeah, that'd be the seared penguin I indulged myself in back there in Snowland-- do you have to talk or do you know when to quiet down?

//<Afrastella Maskmaker huffs in an amused manner.>//

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]As is your bidding.[[/span]]

//<Tarel'ka the Gilded, who carries Dr. Wrenna on his back, moves closer tp Afrastella Maskmaker and Sgt. Vestergaard.>//

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]I AM UTTERLY CONVINCED THAT IT'S A SHAKEDOWN. THE REAL VALUE LIES IN PRECIOUS MATERIALS, FOR GOLD OUTLASTS EMPIRES. THE MOMENT YOURS FALL, SO WILL THE HOARD IT MAINTAINS. I'VE HEARD THERE'S A LAKE ON ONE OF YOUR CONTI--[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Sorry, man. But I get it, alright? Don't buy stocks, buy gold. How do you even have awareness of how mortal economy works when you spend most of your time in the Dusk?

//<Tarel'ka the Gilded bobs his head from left to right in deliberation. He circles his claws idly as he does. Dr. Wrenna tries his best to stay on his draconic horns.>//

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]WE ARE ABLE TO SEE INTO YOUR PLANE THROUGH NAMES. IMAGINE THAT YOU'RE BLIND, YOU STAND IN A DARK ROOM. YOU MIGHT BE ABLE TO HEAR VOICES, BUT WHEN THE NAME OF YOUR MASTER OR YOURSELF IS SPOK--[[/span]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Look, wyvern. Please. I don't care. We probably have this documented somewhere, George.

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]A-HA? DID THAT DECEITFUL WITCH ALREADY ATTACH STRINGS TO YOU? HAVE YOU BECOME A PUPPET FOR HER TO SPREAD CHICANERY THROUGH YOU? I WOULDN'T TRUST THOSE //BHERRHIR// FIE--[[/span]]

//<Sgt. Vestergaard draws his sidearm and discharges it towards Tarel'ka the Gilded 5 times. The projectiles ricochets off the green scales into the ocean below.>//

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]FINE, FINE. YOU MORTALS AND YOUR EXCESS OF EMOTION. I'LL STAY QUIET.[[/span]]

//<Afrastella Maskmaker snickers.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** You seem... off. Is it about Fournier?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard takes a deep breath and holsters his firearm.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** She was just another woman. No.

**Dr. Wrenna:** Certainly didn't look at her like just another woman. Or whisper to her. Or--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** She's dead and gone.

//<Dr. Wrenna scoffs.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Yeah, but the important parts are preserved, right? Did you use X-ray vision to inspect Test Six's heart rate or something back at the Pillar?

//<Sgt. Vestergaard rolls his eyes, he remains quiet.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Can't help but notice--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** How about you keep your notice on the task ahead, okay? I'm not in the mood for this introspective pseudoscience you people do nowadays.

//<Dr. Wrenna frowns. He nods slowly and looks ahead with a puzzled expression. Afrastella Maskmaker snickers once more.>//

...

**[6 MINUTES AND 23 SECONDS CUT FOR BREVITY.]**

...

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Human.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** What now?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]There's land in sight.[[/span]]

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** And?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]A magical bolt of power are headed our way. It's quite adeptly cast, I do believe that the spell is designed to certainly make impact with a target. That means either both of us go down, or you do.[[/span]]

//<Sgt. Vestergaard squints his eyes. In the far distance, the drone is able to pick up on thaumaturgic signatures.>//

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]WHAT IF I BLOCK IT? MY SCALES, MADE MAGNIFICENT BY GOLD AND SILVER, COULD SURELY TAKE IT.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** My anomaly could neutralize it too, I reckon?

//<The thaumaturgic signatures are 200 meters away and rapidly approaching.>//

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]No, no. It was cast on the human and I specifically, you were not close enough. You do not have the contour like he and I do. It would simply warp around and find a path.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** That's-- God, why didn't I participate in those counter-thaumaturgy seminars--

//<The thaumaturgic signatures are 150 meters away.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** If it hits me, can you hold onto me? Through the impact?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]I'm uncertain. I cannot wield magic in this form to ensure it.[[/span]]

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]HOW //ADORABLE//. MAGIC BEING INVALIDATED BY UTTERLY MUNDANE CIRCUMSTANCES.[[/span]]

//<100 meters away.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Damn it, dragon! We don't have time for this! What do we do?

//<The group falls silent.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Thorstein!?

//<50 meters.>//

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** When that mess gets close, toss me into it. I'll catch up.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Are you certain?[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Wha--

**Sgt. Vestergaard:** Thoroughly. Need you to take care of George, ain't good in new circumstances.

//<25.>//

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]As you bid.[[/span]]

//<Afrastella Maskmaker launches Sgt. Vestergaard forwards into the incoming red missile. Sgt. Vestergaard immediately expires and erupts into an estimated 30-40 pieces. The body parts descend into the ocean, approximately 41 kilometers from the coastline.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Wh-- what the fuck?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Quite curious one.[[/span]]

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]HUH. WONDER IF I CAN BUY THAT MORTAL, HE SEEMS QUITE VALUABLE.[[/span]]

//<Dr. Wrenna sighs and rubs his eyebrows.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Great. Now I'm a man down, in the middle of Foundation-hostile territory and need to somehow enable the Serpent's Hand to secure the pillar.

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]GOOD THING YOU HAVE US. OUR WORTH CANNOT BE STATED IN YOUR LANGUAGES.[[/span]]

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]I have little interest in breaking the contract with The Conjurer. You will have my assistance 'til I turn to Dusk once more.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** J-- just swell.

////<Dr. Wrenna narrows his eyes and looks down at the ocean. Sgt. Vestergaard's remains are starting to make impact with the ocean.>////

**Dr. Wrenna:** This better not be another one of his schemes...

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]HEY, AT THE VERY LEAST HE MIGHT BRING US SOME FISH ON THE WAY.[[/span]]

////<Dr. Wrenna sighs and rubs his eyebrows.>////

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Curious magic. Someone is quite skilled at metamagic down there, to have hit us from this range and with such a specialized blast. I am starting to believe there'll be an abundance of opportunities to collect knowledge here.[[/span]]

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-6:** O5-5 and O5-6's meeting regarding Brazil
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 6 DAYS, 9 HOURS AND 3 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

[[div class="blockquote news-headline-class news-headline-font" style="color: #374649; background-color: #BAA71D; margin-bottom: 0"]]

[[=]]

++* @@//@@ BREAKING NEWS @@//@@

[[/=]]

[[/div]]

[[div class="blockquote news-class news-font"]]
**Manaus, Brazil:** Following several violent clashes between protesters and police forces, D████ A█████, mayor of Manaus, has urged protesters to go home. There are several reports of exchanges of gunfire between masked assailants and police officers, which threaten to escalate the protests nationwide.

Following the deaths of 6 protesters, Amerda Sanchaz, representative of Carter Banking and Holdings, has urged both protesters and officers to practice patience and understanding. This statement seems to have prompted additional clashes in the last 24 hours.

The cause for these protests seems to have been sparked by compounding factors related to public disatisfaction with corruption and govermental response to steadily escalating environmental disasters.

We now go to our reporter outside th--
[[/div]]
[[div class="file-class" style="background-color: #000000;color: #adadad;text-shadow: 2px 2px 5px #211d29;border: 3px outset #ffffff; padding:15px; margin-bottom: 10px;margin-top: -50px;"]]

//<[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]] turns off the television. He and [[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] are sat in [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]'s apartment in New York City, United States of America.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Quite unusual response from Carter. I wonder what is going on behind the facade.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Isn't that your assigned function to figure such out?

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** You try figuring out up and down in the middle of a global crisis.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] sighs, the sound she emits crackles with electricity.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'm not sure how to handle Brazil, truth be told. It's quite obvious that the Insurgency is doing their best to obscure their movements, and I don't even want to know what MC&D are doing. Not to mention whatever undiscovered anomalous organizations are hiding in the Amazon are doing about the pillar.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Our old Roman friend sure knew how to make many of his pillars painfully inaccessible to us. 3 out of 5 pillars require us to sweat for them. 

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** The world order was different back then, I suppose. Let's tally, though. We have MC&D's word that they'll guard Antarctica for us for roughly 5 million dollars worth of pure gold. Good thing our operatives down in Antarctica found someone so hungry for gold that they'd spin a few words to their superiors. I do suppose they're stockpiling resources for a potential collapse of the dollar, so perhaps that's why that worked.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** That'd be absurd.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Right. Then we have India which...

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Thoroughly handled.

...

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** That'd be the sane assumption, yes.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Then we have Rome, which also seems to be collapsing into conflict. They-- really value those pillars, there. Must be religious in nature?

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** That leaves Brazil and Senegal. Both appears to be outside direct Foundation control.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** ... So only the Indian pillar is under our control.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Assuming MC&D allows us to take over Antarctica as they promised, potentially 2 pillars are under our direct control.

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] twitches an eye. A lens is replaced as she blinks.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** We're... not as prepared as I was led to believe to handle these scenarioes. World has changed faster than we have, I suppose.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** The other GoIs are familiar with us, it's hard to use the shadows when they know to bring flashlights at this point.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** And who do we have to blame for that, mh?

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** ...

//<The television turns on once more, revealing [[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] in Antarctica with the pillar in the background. Prof. von Leisere seems to be pacing around the pillar in the background.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I see you're making full use of my charity.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** The satin sheets are to die for.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** How goes Antarctica?

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Curiously. I've commandeered your two operatives and sent them to Senegal, given Four's-- misadventures. The curse specialist I've brought, the eccentric one from Site-03, is currently investigating something troubling.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** What, eye contact?

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Not quite. The pillar responds to verbal phrases, and seems to be responding to a Latin incantation.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Did you just start randomly citing Latin near the big, ominous obelisk of anti-magic?

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** No, but a researcher did read the phrase carved into the pillar out loud. A few phrases seemed to activate thaumaturgic energy in the anomaly.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** And the effect of this incantation?

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Unclear. And I don't exactly want to figure it out due to the scale that SCP-9070 came onto centerstage with.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** What does the thaumaturge behind you suppose?

<[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]] glances over her shoulder and looks into the camera with an apologetic smile.>

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I quote: //"I deal with curses, not generalized thaumaturgy, how should I know?"//

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** And the rest of the thaumat--

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Containment efforts.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Ah, those again! At which point do we let a few boogeymen go wild so we can get this situation handled? Let the GOC deal with it.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** The GOC are fully focused on the pillars. And we both know the clean-up would be unacceptable.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** So would the loss of the entire anomalous research we've been doing for a century or two.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'll secure Four and haul him here. He's acquainted with traditional thaumaturgy.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** Right. Six and I will depart for Rome so we can get a first-hand account of what that whole crumbling sand castle is up to, given we cannot afford to send some operatives there "due to safety concerns" after a never-happened-before event.

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Cut your whining. The only reason why we know it to have never happened before is due to dealing with things using the scientific method, Five. Not by rushing in.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** I'm starting to understand why Eleven is such a childish rebel with this antiquated council.

**[[span class="o5 o5-10" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-10[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Summoner[[/span]][[/span]]:** Look, if you're going to fight, please do so outside my property investments? I'd hate to have the interi--

//<[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]] turns the television off and stands up.>//

**[[span class="o5 o5-6" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-6[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Singularity[[/span]][[/span]]:** Alright, let's get going.

**[[span class="o5 o5-5" tabindex="0"]][[span class="main"]]O5-5[[/span]][[span class="alt"]]The Shadow[[/span]][[/span]]:** As you say.

**<END LOG>**

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-6:** Excerpt on the use of thaumaturgy in combat
[[/=]]

[[div class="almendra-regular" style="background-color: #1A0500; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px #000000; color: #B4979F;border-color: #C2847A; border-style: groove; border-width: 5px; padding:15px"]]
[[=]]
[[span style="font-size: 40px"]]**Basic Evocation in Combat**[[/span]]
[[span style="font-size: 20px; margin-top 2px"]]//by Professor Weii, Serpent's Hand Evocation & Peacekeeping Expert//[[/span]]
[[/=]]

There's one thing you must understand about magecraft in conflict. If your magic cannot match or deflect a gun, you are not ready to use magecraft in conflict. It is that simple.

I will not be hearing about niche advantages. It's called The Great Equalizer for a good reason. Sure, it can be used to lend aid in combat, but guess what? Then you're most likely holding a weapon -- weakening your spellcraft.

Before you bring it up, yes, there are traditional spellblades who've weaved between martial prowess and magic. No, you're not one of them if you're reading this. There are two variations of magecraft that dictate the LOWEST barrier of entry. Shield and bolt. Or projectile. Or blast. Call it whatever you wish, you may be a talented thaumaturge under a strict categorization of spells, or you might use wild magic that's more explosive but less adaptable.

It matters little what background of magic you have and it matters a lot more what you put in front of you. Let's understand the thing that will keep you alive long enough to master the other, shielding.

Back in the "good old days", I'm told that you were simply required to shield a specific incoming attack or barrage. Well, guess what, every attack nowadays is a barrage. A single weapon may unleash a barrage on itself.

So, shields are important. Have you ever noticed why we don't have that many insufferable elder wizards around? A good bit of them are hiding from or are dead to gunfire. There are texts that describe many a woe made by magical societies about an apocalypse of steel and gunpowder that'd wipe us all out of existence. They were, admittedly, almost right. 

Luckily they spent a few decades to a century trying to figure out how to halt these firearms. However, they were always a little slower than the Mortal Empires in their research. This has started to turn in modern times. We have, at least I hope, some of the peaks of assault rifles in circulation now. So we're more than caught up ever since a thesis released in 2015 by Weißenwrachz. My thesis.

I know you're reading this, wanker. I know where you live.

Now one can partake in a very elegant, specific ritual that has been mastered by the most talented abjurers. It allows skilled magi to funnel small portions of energy into it at a consistent rate, so you needn't react to gunfire, a feat rather difficult even in these times. It works like a battery though, and it can run out-- in this case you either run or funnel a significant portion of energy into your chosen focus. That's how you stay alive with AK-47s and all his siblings.

Next is offensive magic. If you've skipped to this point without reading the defensive part, congratulations. The hypnotic signature that the last part of the last paragraph dispels has now made you afraid of the color blue for the next week. Good luck!

In order to cast effective magic in combat, you need to be reminded of a pretty base fact regarding spellcrafting. Not because I don't trust you, I just don't think you can do it properly. The more advanced, that is, the more properties your attempted spell has, the more energy you need to expel. You see how that goes in the same scale as the defensive tangent I was on earlier?

Don't. Waste. Energy.

I know that the ancient depicts wonderful styles of magic that allowed us to do so much more, and I'm sure there are some alive who actually had the pleasure to experience that. I'm sorry you cannot do this anymore. Use the magic you need to and get out.

No tricks. No fancy moves. Do not put yourself in danger.

Now, let's discuss specific spellcraft, the first thing you want to do is [[span style="font-family: Consolas,monaco,monospace;"]]**[REDACTED AS PER THE DANGEROUS MAGIC AND MAGICIANS ACT OF 2001]**.[[/span]]

[...]

Now remember, if with magic you cannot befell 'em, rely on the good old Parabellum.

[[/div]]

-----

[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-7:** Dr. Wrenna's arrival to Dakar, Senegal.
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 6 DAYS, 10 HOURS AND 10 MINUTES AFTER SCP-9070
[[/=]]

Sgt. Vestergaard's location continues to be unknown, it is presumed that he has regenerated and moved to shore, or is in the progress of doing such. Due to lack of available personnel after SCP-9070, Afrastella Maskmaker and Tarel'ka the Gilded were tasked with assisting Dr. Wrenna on the condition that they did not reveal themselves to be anomalous to overveil individuals.

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[[=image Dakar%20Roofs%20-%20Beach%20%26%20Ocean.jpg size="medium" style="border-style: simple; border-width: 3px; border-color: #c1c1c1"]]

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[[=]]
^^//Dakar, Senegal as seen from above.//^^
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**<BEGIN LOG>**

//<Afrastella Maskmaker, Tarel'ka the Gilded and Dr. Wrenna are standing on the ocean outside Dakar. Both Afrastella Maskmaker and Tarel'ka the Gilded have disguised themselves to be human. Afrastella Maskmaker has taken on the form of a woman in a long summer dress with jewelry of occult association as a necklace, rings and armbands. Tarel'ka the Gilded is wearing a black, striped suit with a white shirt and a green tie. He has a wide brim fedora with a green band around it.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** Are you sure they-- can't see us?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]I am in a shape where I can use magic, yes. Disguises and actionability in disguises are our strengths.[[/span]]

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]RUNNING TO THEIR LITTLE SKY-HOVELS ARE TOO, RIGHT? FOR SOME REASON, WHENEVER I SEE ONE OF YOU, IT'S ALWAYS WHEN YOU'RE SPRINTING AWAY FROM ME.[[/span]]

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Or perhaps we'd like to maintain our ability to hear when yo--[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** I get it, okay? Can we-- can we just focus? We need a //plan//, here.

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]YOU DIDN'T SPEND THE TRIP HERE FORMULATING A PLAN?[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Look, Thorstein usually does that when we're in the field. You can't just-- you--, well expect me to do that on the spot.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Ah, reliance upon allies is usually many a warlord's downfall.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Let me-- let me think.

//<Afrastella Maskmaker and Tarel'ka the Gilded exchange a glare. Afrastella Maskmaker squints her eyes while Tarel'ka the Gilded bares his teeth. 11 seconds passes.>//

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]WELL?[[/span]]

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Plans don't form from impatience, brute.[[/span]]

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]AND ACTION DOESN'T FORM FROM OVERTHINKING. THAT'S WHY YOU LITTLE SNIVELING LIZA-[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** That's it.

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]WHAT?[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** We can't form a plan because we do not have the //information//. The plan is to gather information.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]There we are. How do you desire to go about that?[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** You can be invisible, right?

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]It is so. I can also disguise myself to a variety of creations, unlike the manchild there.[[/span]]

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]DON'T NEED SHAPES OTHER THAN COINS.[[/span]]

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]... Those ar--[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Afrastella, I need you to move above the city and use your senses there. I need to know where there are hotspots of thaumaturgy, this way we can pinpoint potential hideouts from the various factions here.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]As you wish.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** Gilded, need you on the ground in the bars. Chat people up, ask about what's going on in the city. Pay attention to any strange deaths, local legends and odd individuals.

**Tarel'ka the Gilded:** [[span class="demonG"]]DRINK, TALK AND LISTEN? VERY WELL.[[/span]]

**Dr. Wrenna:** We'll meet--

//<Dr. Wrenna points to an area outside the city.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** There. By the coast come dawn.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]Ah, from dusk 'til dawn. My favorite time. What of yourself?[[/span]]

//<Dr. Wrenna squints his eyes.>//

**Dr. Wrenna:** I think that... I'm going to go back to my roots.

**Afrastella Maskmaker:** [[span class="demonB"]]So be it. We shall meet soon.[[/span]]

//<Afrastella Maskmaker levitates into the air and accelerates towards the center of Dakar. She fades from view after flying 10 meters away. Tarel'ka the Gilded places both of his hands in his trousers' pockets and walks off towards the city while humming. Dr. Wrenna eyes the turist trap internet café in the distance and sighs.>//

**<END LOG>**

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[[=]]
++ **Addendum 9070-3-8:** Letter delivered to Site-19
[[/=]]

[[=]]
+++* 7 DAYS, 0 HOURS AND 1 MINUTE AFTER SCP-9070
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[[div class="blockquote almendra-bold" style="background-color: #bfb79f;color: #211313;border: 7px outset #211313;border-radius: 4px"]]
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Let us meet in Rome.

You know of the importance.

-Karcist Bellus
[[/=]]
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SCP-9070

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