SCP-9800

Link to article: SCP-9800.

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It's all right, 冇問題 / It is time, such is life 
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**Item #:** SCP-9800

**Containment Class:** Pending

**Special Containment Procedures:** Due to the relatively remote location of Site-618, its current status has been attributed to the formation of a sinkhole, as a result of recent rainfall. Additional measures have been taken to reinforce this cover story, such as the removal of abnormal flora and overturning of soil. 

**Description:** SCP-9800 is the provisional designation for an anomalous event that led to the transformation of a large area of land, entirely encompassing Site-618, into a contiguous rice paddy field. Attempts to re-establish communication with the Site have been unsuccessful. With the exception of a Dr. Felix Bowie, all Site-618 personnel have been considered MIA.

A temporary outpost has been established within the vicinity of Site-618 to support investigation efforts, which are presently ongoing.

[[div class="notation"]]
[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
**SINCLAIR:** Dr. Bowie. We've been expecting you.

//[SINCLAIR extends his hand. BOWIE firmly shakes it.]//

**BOWIE:** Captain Sinclair. How goes the investigation? Have you figured out the Site's status by any chance?

**SINCLAIR:** Unfortunately not. We're still analysing the ground for traces and such. But, for what it's worth, the thaumaturgists haven't detected any signs of violent cessation. 

**BOWIE:** Thaumaturgists? From the Psychometrics Division? Colour me surprised. Humbled, even.

**SINCLAIR:** It's no Site-19, but the disappearance of a facility full of anomalous objects does not sit well with the powers that be.  

**BOWIE:** Hmm.

//[BOWIE and SINCLAIR look towards the field, where engineers are busy taking samples and clearing the area of rice plants.]//

**BOWIE:** Why have I been called here, Captain?

**SINCLAIR:** You're the only survivor of SCP-9800, so--

**BOWIE:** Survivor? 

//[BOWIE laughs dryly.]//

**BOWIE:** Come on now, Captain. You say that as if everyone else is dead and gone. I mean-- I should hope they aren't, touch wood, but isn't that a bit too cynical? 

**SINCLAIR:** Perhaps. As I was about to say, we found this in the field. 

//[SINCLAIR hands BOWIE a clipboard, upon which a report and photo is attached.]//

**SINCLAIR:** Can you confirm that this is an anomalous object contained or stored in Site-618?

**BOWIE:** I-- I think so. Yes. Low risk object, caught between Safe-class and Anomalous Item designation. It was a recent acquisition and we had not settled on a final classification before I left for my conference. 

**SINCLAIR:** Do you know what actions your colleagues at Site-618 might have taken regarding this object? Testing, perhaps?

**BOWIE:** If they thought it worthwhile, yes, but they would have followed protocol and-- Was this the only thing you found in that rice field?

**SINCLAIR:** I'm afraid so, Doctor. Now, I must formally ask you in your capacity as acting director of Site-618, if you might authorize further study and testing of this object in consideration of its possible role in the disappearance of Site-618 and replacement with a rice paddy field?

//[BOWIE sighs.]//

**BOWIE:** [[a href="#u-offset1"]]Let's get started.[[/a]]
----
[[=]]
**<<END LOG>>**
[[/=]]
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| caption=SCP-9800
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**Item #:** SCP-9800

**Containment Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-9800 is currently contained in a standard storage locker at Outpost-618. Item tests are to be directly overseen by Acting Site Director Dr. Bowie.

**Description:** SCP-9800 is a spherical astrolabe, visually similar to those used for navigational purposes in maritime settings. However, the inscriptions on the object do not map to any established coordinate systems or celestial maps, and gradually transform over time. Following extensive analysis and testing, it has been confirmed that SCP-9800 is a type of personal multiversal navigator.

Despite the Foundation's numerous encounters with (and subsequent containment efforts of)  numerous objects and entities of extra-universal origin, its expertise on multiversal studies remain comparatively limited. It has yet to develop the technology to safely navigate or communicate through such means.

SCP-9800 is understood to allow for interuniversal travel within a dynamic but limited range of neighbouring universes, in accordance to the pseudo-Keplerian theory of multiversal motion. The item is also thought to possess several safeguards that constrain possible connection points to those within habitable areas. 

Analysis of the symbols present on SCP-9800 suggests that they belong to a novel paralanguage, for which a rudimentary lexicon has been developed. Subsequent tests have been successful, with human subjects being transported to an adjacent universe, tentatively designated U-9800, while carrying SCP-9800 on their persons. Further adjustments made to the parameters of SCP-9800 have been found to permit the simultaneous displacement of all objects within a given radius,[[footnote]] One of SCP-9800's safeguards prevents the bisection of organic material on the thresholds of this radius, displacing entities with a centre of mass within the radius instead. [[/footnote]] though this causes significant thaumaturgical stress on SCP-9800.  



**Addendum 9800.1: Expedition Briefing**

An expeditionary team has been assembled to enter U-9800, locate Site-618, and retrieve its personnel and contents if possible. 

* An all-terrain-ready transport was prepared for the expedition to be able to navigate through the soft terrain in U-9800's rice fields.
* Notably, the landing points of each displacement vary significantly depending on the starting position of SCP-9800, on account of the relative motion of both universes. Due to this, the expedition team will activate SCP-9800 as close to its approximate location of recovery as possible.
* Repeated tests confirm that the Prime Universe and U-9800 are moving away from each other, such that SCP-9800 may only safely and reliably maintain this connection for another 2 jumps, allowing for the expeditionary team to travel to and return from U-9800 exactly once before it becomes unfeasible.
* An unmeasured degree of time dilation exists between the Prime Universe and U-9800. Extrapolations of interuniversal relative motion suggest that any time axis relation may be dynamic. To prevent the total loss of the expeditionary team, a 24 hour constraint has been applied. 


[[div class="notation"]]
[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
**SINCLAIR:** Logistics check. Did everything make it through?

**CHEN:** All packages have been accounted for. 

**SINCLAIR:** Excellent. Any word from the Site? 

**FABRIS:** Nothing on the comms. 

**SINCLAIR:** Blackout protocols? 

**FABRIS:** Unlikely. I'm not seeing any response on the subchannel frequencies. 

**SINCLAIR:** Hrm. Keep at it. Maybe they'll pick up the phone. Release the drones, Agent Brook.

//[A swarm of small drones flies out from the back of the transport, dispersing into all directions. BOWIE stares aimlessly into the horizon.]//
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| name=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5f/Rice_fields_in_Northern_Garut.jpg/1200px-Rice_fields_in_Northern_Garut.jpg
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**BOWIE:** //[Mumbles]// Where are you...

**UNKNOWN:** Where's who?

//[BOWIE jumps away from the unidentified individual next to him, clad in a white robe. Their facial features cannot be identified on the recording.]//

**BOWIE:** Jesus, where the hell did //you// come from?

//[Nearby agents have taken notice, and have assumed defensive stances. Noticing the individual's unarmed state and non-threatening demeanour, they stop short of drawing their weapons.]//

**UNKNOWN:** Oh! There are more of you. Who are you looking for?

**BOWIE:** Well, uh... That's--

**SINCLAIR:** Have you seen anyone dressed like us around here? More like him, maybe?

//[SINCLAIR points at BOWIE, who is one of the only expedition members wearing a lab coat. UNKNOWN tilts their head in contemplation.]//

**UNKNOWN:** A lab coat, hmm? I'm not sure if I have.

**BOWIE:** You... //do// live around here, then? Who are you?

**UNKNOWN:** Good question. I haven't thought about that in ages. What's all that over there?

**SINCLAIR:** I'm afraid that's classified. Now, I'm not sure where you popped up from but--

**UNKNOWN:** I've seen that logo before. Yes... Yes, I'm sure of it. Saw it on the side of a big white building somewhere around here.

**BOWIE:** Do you know where it might be?

**UNKNOWN:** I think so. I'll show you the way if you'd like.

//[All drones are recalled and packed back into the transport over the course of half an hour.]//

**BOWIE:** How far is this building you mentioned?

**UNKNOWN:** Hmm... I'm not sure how to put it in words. It's more of a feeling, a compass of my heart. I know not how long the road is, but I know where to follow.

//[UNKNOWN points towards the horizon. There are no landmarks within the line of sight beyond a few limestone hills.]//

**UNKNOWN:** As the crow flies, so they say.

**BOWIE:** Alright, uh. Thank you for the directions, umm. Didn't quite catch your name.

**UNKNOWN:** It's still in the wind, yes. 

//[The transport engine thrums to life. SINCLAIR rolls down the window.]//

**SINCLAIR:** We're on a timer, people. Let's go.

//[BOWIE turns to UNKNOWN, who has somehow already climbed onto the roof of the transport.]//

//[BOWIE shrugs it off and climbs into the transport. They begin driving in the direction provided.]//

**BOWIE:** Say, Captain Sinclair. During your regular MTF missions, do you ever encounter civilians like that guy back there?

**SINCLAIR:** //[Chuckles]// No such thing as a regular MTF mission, Dr. Bowie, but ehh... Yeah. You do come across some strange folk outside the Veil. Occasionally they do turn out to be hostiles, but those tend to be few and far between.

**BOWIE:** Do you think we can trust them?

**SINCLAIR:** My guess is as good as yours. But we have no leads otherwise. 

**UNKNOWN:** //[Muffled]// And this lead can hear you talking about them.

//[BOWIE jumps in surprise. SINCLAIR laughs.]//

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

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[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
//[The expeditionary team is assembled in the cramped dining area of the transport vehicle, consuming MRE rations. UNKNOWN is present at the table.]//

**CHEN:** You sure you aren't hungry? We've been driving for hours.

//[UNKNOWN shakes their head. CHEN holds up a granola bar to their face. They gingerly take a bite out of it and begin munching.]//

**BROOK:** So, you live here?

**UNKNOWN:** Well, I'm not dead. 

**BROOK:** That's not--

**CHEN:** But what do you //do// here? There's nothing but rice paddy and hills here. Is there anything else around here, like a town?

**UNKNOWN:** Of course. We're heading there right now.

**FABRIS:** The Site's a town now?

**UNKNOWN:** It's been a town for as long as I've known it.

//[The expedition members look at each other with slight unease.]//

**SINCLAIR:** What do we think? Time dilation?

**BOWIE:** It's been less than 48 hours since the Site was transported here. They've probably confused the facility complex of Site-618 with a fully fledged settlement.

**UNKNOWN:** Legally speaking, Site-618 qualifies as a town in certain Earth nation states.

**BOWIE:** What. How do you know that?

**UNKNOWN:** I spoke with the people at Site-618, of course. I remember that much.

**BROOK:** Are you //from// Site-618?

**UNKNOWN:** I don't think I am. 

**FABRIS:** So they're amnesiac. Sure, whatever, that's fine. They know where the Site is and that's the most important part right now. 

**BOWIE:** Okay, hold on. Is there anything else here, at all, other than Site-618?

**UNKNOWN:** I have never walked far enough to find out.

**BOWIE:** And how far have you walked?

**UNKNOWN:** I long stopped counting the steps and the days. I find myself meandering around the hills, but I have never ventured so far beyond the horizon.

//[UNKNOWN looks out of one of the vehicle portholes.]//

**UNKNOWN:** There used to be something there. Memories I haven't remembered, Felix. 

//[BOWIE grabs UNKNOWN by their shoulders.]//

**BOWIE:** //What the fuck?// How do you know that name?

**SINCLAIR:** Calm down, Dr. Bowie. We--

**BOWIE:** None of you have called me by my full name since we arrived. There's no way //you// could have heard of my first name from us. And if you say you don't remember, I swear to god I--

//[UNKNOWN stares at BOWIE. They do not answer. As SINCLAIR places a hand on BOWIE's shoulder, he releases UNKNOWN.]//

**BOWIE:** What are you? 

**UNKNOWN:** That remains to be seen, Felix. 
----
[[=]]
**<<END LOG>>**
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

Following approximately 18 hours of driving, the expedition discovered evidence of human habitation within the vicinity of a limestone hill. Further investigation confirmed it to be on the periphery of a larger settlement, with collapsed brick, concrete, and steel structures. Ruins in the centre of the structure were found to correspond to the floor plan of Site-618. Based on analysis of the surrounding earth, it is understood that the near entirety of the structure had sunk into the ground over the course of decades, if not centuries, beginning as soon as it had arrived in U-9800.


[[div class="notation"]]
[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
[[include component:image-block
| name=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/95/Limestone_Hill.jpg/1199px-Limestone_Hill.jpg?20250325031647
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//[UNKNOWN is seen sitting on the top of the transport. They leap off and land on a nearby patch of solid limestone.]//

**UNKNOWN:** I haven't been here in so long. I think I wanted to forget.

**BOWIE:** Forget? Forget what?

**UNKNOWN:** Please follow me.

//[UNKNOWN walks towards a smooth face on the limestone hill. As they rest their hand on the rock, dirt and rubble loosen from a hidden doorway. UNKNOWN pushes past the limestone doors, revealing a passageway leading into the limestone hill.]//

//[UNKNOWN stands in the doorway, facing away from the expeditionary team. They sigh before disappearing into the darkness.]//

**SINCLAIR:** We're going in. Fabris, Brook, with me. Everyone else, sweep the open air ruins and stay alert. 

**BOWIE:** I'm going in as well. That guy knows more than they're letting on, I tell you.

//[SINCLAIR glances at CHEN, who passes their flashlight and helmet to BOWIE.]//

//[The expeditionary team enter the passageway, flashlights and headlamps lighting the way. UNKNOWN is nowhere to be seen.]//

**BROOK:** Where'd our guide go?

**FABRIS:** Probably deeper inside. We should follow.

//[The passageway terminates in a sealed steel door. UNKNOWN is not present.]//

**BROOK:** Fuck me, we've been following a ghost.

//[A terminal interface to the side blinks to life as the four approach.]//

**BROOK:** Ohhh.

**SINCLAIR:** Shit, I didn't bring my decrypter. This won't take a moment.

**BOWIE:** Wait. Let me try.

//[BOWIE inputs an alphanumerical code. The terminal blinks red.]//

//[He tries another code. The terminal blinks green, and cool air rushes out as the door unseals itself.]//

**BOWIE:** Site-618 general access code. They must've cannibalized the Site's facilities to build this. 

**BROOK:** To avoid the sinking soil, sure, but to seal themselves in the rock? Wh--

//[SINCLAIR hushes BROOK. BOWIE hesitantly steps into the room.]//

**BOWIE:** //[Under breath.]// Please. 

[[/div]]
[[div class="document"]]
**U-9800 Location of Interest #2: Rock-Cut Structure**
[[div class="smallmodal"]]
**Entrance and Access Corridor**
----
- Blocked by heavy limestone doors. No operating mechanisms found.
- Tunnel stretches for approximately 15 meters. Both walls, ceiling, and floor cut smooth. 
- Locked steel door connected to adjacent terminal, confirmed to have originated from Site-618's Anomalous Items storage wing.
[[/div]]

[[div class="smallmodal"]]
**Antechamber**
------
- Temperature and humidity maintained at optimal conditions for long term archival purposes. Climate control equipment found in maintenance tunnels with small vents leading outside.
- 64 depowered HDD server racks formatted for cold data storage. 
- 120 sealed boxes, within which books and bound volumes of documents have been recovered. 
- 77 objects corresponding to Anomalous Items stored at Site-618 during its disappearance.
[[/div]]

[[div class="smallmodal"]]
**Chamber** 
----
- 207 niches carved into 3 walls in a square chamber. Each contains;
- A limestone bust,
- A placard,
- A total of 206 limestone urns.
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

[[div class="notation"]]
//[The expedition members enter the chamber. BOWIE sees the busts and freezes.]//

**BOWIE:** So. This is where you have all been.

//[BOWIE walks up to one of the busts. He runs his fingers over the placard. His breath becomes shaky.]//

**BOWIE:** Unbelievable. Just-- Unbelievable.

//[As BOWIE composes himself, the others turn their attention towards a niche that possesses a placard and bust, but not an urn.]//

**FABRIS:** Is that--

**SINCLAIR:** I would say so, yes.

**BROOK:** Fuck, they //were// a ghost after all.

//[The three identify the bust as the UNKNOWN individual they had been following. The bust possesses an objective resemblance to BOWIE. The placard reads "SAWA".]//

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

[[div class="smallmodal"]]
**Addendum 9800.2: Recovered Log Excerpts**
The following logs are excerpts taken from recovered recordings found in U-9800 Location of Interest #2.

[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #1**
**Day Count:** {{1}}
----
**ASHTON:** This is Dr. Liam Ashton, Site-618. There have been some complications with an anomalous item during testing, and...

//[ASHTON briefly turns the camera towards the rice fields of U-9800.]//

**ASHTON:** We're stuck here now. The consensus is that the item we've been testing, formally Anomalous Item #8242, is directly responsible for our current predicament.

**ASHTON:** Dir. Berkeley has proposed that it be conferred SCP classification, but we have not been able to find it. Anywhere. We think that the item sent us to this dimension? Universe? But for whatever reason, did not come with. Perhaps we inadvertently activated some sort of function with Anomalous Item #8242. A security measure? An intentional design choice? We can't know. Even if we did, it means nothing without the item to send us back. Perhaps Dr. Bowie might figure something out. If he's still out there, of course. 
[[/div]]
@@@@
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #30**
**Day Count:** {{30}}
----
**ASHTON:** Dr. Ashton again. It has been a month since the world disappeared around us.

**ASHTON:** The staff here have been coming to terms with the nonzero possibility that in our absence, some catastrophic event had occurred to the Foundation. Anything that might screw with rescue attempts and such. Some of us are still holding on to the hope that a recovery team is just running late.

**ASHTON:** Chief Engineer Kaur has rigged some sort of foundation for the Site -- keeps us standing upright in the waterlogged soil beneath the Site -- but we're not sure how long that will last. Umm. We're also using one of the Anomalous Items to excavate this rock face here, perhaps as an extension of the Site. 

**ASHTON:** Oh yeah, I don't think I brought this up. Dir. Berkeley has authorized the use of our more well-studied Anomalous Items to keep things afloat around here. Clean water, power, food that isn't just harvested rice... By and large, the Anomalous Items we have at Site-618 are harmless. Entertaining, even. Unfortunately, none of them hold a candle to what SCP-9800 was capable of. 

**ASHTON:** That's right, Anomalous Item #8242 is now SCP-9800. Dir. Berkeley signed off on it as "Acting Overseer of the Foundation". //[Chuckles]// If no one comes to get us, we're just going to recreate the entire O5 Council. 
[[/div]]
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| caption=Recovered image from archives.
| align=center
| width=100%
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[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #52**
**Day Count:** {{1,827}}
----
**ASHTON:** Dr. Liam Ashton. I still record these. Happy 5th anniversary of the world getting ripped away from us. We have come to the understanding that the Foundation as we know it no longer exists. It has been too long. 

**ASHTON:** There is nothing we can do but live. There is no one else here, as far as we can tell. The rice must have come from somewhere, but we don't know much else about it. This world is empty.

//[ASHTON sighs.]//

**ASHTON:** But it is also beautiful. I find myself lost in the golden sunrises and sunsets, the rippling of the rice stalks in the wind. 

//[An infant's cries are heard off-camera. ASHTON smiles.]//

**ASHTON:** //That//, I do not lose myself in. 

[[/div]]
@@@@
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #107**
**Day Count:** {{6,209}}
----
**ASHTON:** And now we're rolling. Go for it, Carter. 

**CARTER:** This is Carter Ashton, son of Dr. Liam Ashton, Site-618. Happy 17th anniversary!

**ASHTON:** Anniversary of?

**CARTER:** Happy 17th anniversary of our community!

//[The face of a younger child wanders in front of and blocks most of the camera. She giggles.]//

**CHILD:** 17! 17!

**ASHTON:** Ivy! Come 'ere you little--

//[ASHTON scoops up the child in his arms. CARTER frowns and folds his arms at the interruption.]//

**CARTER:** She keeps blocking me!

**ASHTON:** Come on now, Carter, she's curious. We can always do another take. You were like that too when you were younger, you know. 

**CARTER:** Da-aaaaad!
[[/div]]
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| name=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/99/Green_paddy_fields_and_karst_mountains_at_sunset_with_clouds_in_Vang_Vieng_Laos.jpg/1200px-Green_paddy_fields_and_karst_mountains_at_sunset_with_clouds_in_Vang_Vieng_Laos.jpg
| caption=Recovered image from archive.
| align=center
| width=100%
]]
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #341**
**Day Count:** {{17,885}}
----
**CARTER:** This is Carter Ashton-Krantz, son of Dr. Liam Ashton. I know that I haven't been recording these as often as I should, but...

**CARTER:** This isn't about me. Site-618's population has grown recently, but not in the way we would have expected. A stranger showed up in the rice fields a few weeks ago, asking if we needed help with anything. 

**CARTER:** More hands are always welcome. It was quite the shock in the beginning, to encounter the only other person in this entire world from beyond 618. The first generation welcomed them quite readily, too. They're a strange fellow, to be sure. Fast learner too. They've mastered the filing system we use here within a day, and have proven to be an invaluable assistant in crosstests and replication studies. 

**CARTER:** And they look just like that Dr. Bowie in those pictures that dad showed me. Except they haven't aged, not like the first generation has. I can only imagine what dad would say if he were here to see this.
[[/div]]
@@@@
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #356**
**Day Count:** {{17,968}}
------
**CARTER:** This is Carter Ashton-Krantz, son of Dr. Liam Ashton. Just thought I'd provide some updates on recent developments at Site-618.

**CARTER:** I have a grandson now. Azir. He has his mother's smile. I will admit that it has given me a little more motivation to try and find a way back to Earth. 

**CARTER:** The stranger has taken the name Sawa. It's not a bad name. They have been a great help, what with all the odd jobs they've been doing. We have, however, come to the understanding that they aren't completely human. I've heard theories that they're a genius loci of this place, or a guardian spirit of some sort borne of the Anomalous Items. We don't really know, nor have the means to pursue this. 

**CARTER:** But that doesn't really matter, I don't think. They're just Sawa. Always have been.

[[/div]]
@@@@
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #629**
**Day Count:** {{30,503}}
----
**IVY:** Hello. My name is Ivy Ashton-Krantz, daughter of Dr. Liam Ashton. To whom this recording will be viewed by, if there will be any at all, I report this thus.

**IVY:** Carter Ashton-Krantz, my dearest brother, had passed away peacefully last night. His immediate family were present during his passing, as were his colleagues-- his friends: Yusuf, Sawa, and Hayden. He was 78 years old. He is survived by his daughter, Valeria Pesce-Ashton, and his grandson, Azir Pesce-Ashton. The wake will be held at G-233 for 3 days, before he will be cremated and interred within the mountain.

**IVY:** My father used to speak of another world, one bigger than this bubble we live in. My brother was enchanted with the very idea of something beyond this place. Of rolling green hills, of deep blue ocean, of snow-flecked mountains. Anything other than this sickening endless rice paddy. 

**IVY:** I do miss when the children were still young. Running about the fields and coming back soaked and covered in dirt. There aren't many of us left. Not enough to maintain sufficient genetic diversity. The younger ones have an agreement, as I understand it, to avoid the suffering at the end of the population bottleneck. 

[[/div]]
[[include component:image-block
| name=https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f4/Sawah_padi_3.jpeg
| caption=Recovered image from archive.
| align=center
| width=100%
]]
[[div class="notation"]]
**Site-618 Recovered Log #802**
**Day Count:** {{56,832}}
----

//[SAWA sits before the camera, facial features unidentifiable. Words are lodged within their throat, they attempt to draw them forth like a swallowed sword.]// 

**SAWA:** The youngest, Cleo Lin-Dell, has passed. 

//[SAWA looks away from the camera. They are lightly shaking, periodically clenching their jaw.]//

**SAWA:** She carved her own bust. It is a splendid work. She made one for me, too. It pains me how much more effort she put into it. It is more than I deserve.

**SAWA:** I have interred her beside her parents. Her final gift to me, I have placed in the empty niche beside. When will it be my turn? It's so quiet. 

**SAWA:** All is within the hill. Everything they wanted me to safekeep. Everything they have learned. Everything they were.

//[SAWA buries their head within their arms.]//

**SAWA:** //[Muffled]// I don't know what to do now.

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

[[div class="notation"]]
[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
//[BOWIE storms out of the chamber, while UNKNOWN is seen outside the structure conversing with some members of the expeditionary team. His body quakes, moisture building up in his eyes.]//

**BOWIE:** There you are. Sawa, is it?

//[SAWA turns around to face BOWIE. Though their face is not visible on recordings, their body language indicates they are calm.]//

**BOWIE:** You steal my face. Watch my friends die. Rinse and repeat with their children.

**SAWA:** I did not intend to steal anything, I--

**BOWIE:** Do you remember them now? The original 47?

**SAWA:** Not all of them. Regretfully, a few had passed on before I became aware of what I was.

**BOWIE:** So. What are you, then? A reaper? A spectre to haunt their mausoleum? To haunt //me//?

**SAWA:** I am made of memory. Memory painted within these fields. I don't know if you have a word to describe an existence like mine. 

**SAWA:** It is not a perfect recollection, but I could not forget the love each of them had for the owner of the face I wore. The hole in their hearts that called me forth in life and near-death. The face that they had wanted to see before they departed, even if they did not know it to be by your name.

**BOWIE:** What? No, they-- why would they do that? They--

**SAWA:** I watched them record their thoughts, their lives, all for a thin thread of hope that the Foundation would come to retrieve them. And personally? I think there was something in there that was meant for you. The sole survivor of Site-618's disappearance. That you would one day come here yourself.

//[SAWA's voice wavers. Tears can be seen streaming from their eyes. They step forward and grab BOWIE by the lapels of his lab coat.]//

**SAWA:** They thought you died, Felix. They thought you fucking died and they mourned you. 

//[BOWIE struggles to speak, paralyzed as he chokes on words and tears.]//

**SAWA:** Even now, do you see your face in mine? Did you ever see my face to begin with?

//[SAWA shoves BOWIE back, letting go of his collar. He falls to his knees.]//

**SAWA:** Read the archives. Watch the recordings. Take them home with you and mourn them with all the rest of their beloveds. I release them from this tomb into your care, for I have mourned //enough// for the lifetime of //every single one of them//.

//[SINCLAIR and CHEN go to help BOWIE stand. He manages to blurt out his thanks, before walking back into the structure.]// 

**SINCLAIR:** Let's-- Let's get everything packed up.

**CHEN:** Should we...

**SAWA:** No. Let him be.

**CHEN:** Of course.

//[The remaining members of the expeditionary team enter the structure and begin transferring the contents of the antechamber into the transport vehicle, with SAWA providing assistance. BOWIE can be seen in the chamber.]//

//[BOWIE eventually leaves the chamber, quietly helping to move boxes and objects outside.]//
[[=]]
.
.
.
[Extraneous period of recording removed for brevity.]
.
.
.
[[/=]]
//[All objects stored within the rock-cut structure, including all 206 urns, are successfully retrieved and loaded on to the transport vehicle. BOWIE has returned to the chamber, looking at the empty niches. SINCLAIR and SAWA approach him.]//

**SINCLAIR:** Our 24 hours are almost up. It's time to go.

**BOWIE:** Sawa, I'm sorry. I-- I didn't mean--

**SAWA:** It's all right. I understand. 

//[The three leave the structure, as SAWA seals the entrance once more.]//

**SAWA:** I hope you have a safe journey home. All of you.

//[SAWA looks towards the transport vehicle, where the urns have been stored.]//

**BOWIE:** Will you come with us? 

//[SAWA shakes their head with remorse.]//

**SAWA:** I may very well be bound to this place, in a way that cannot be so quickly undone. I do not know if I can.

**SINCLAIR:** We can still try. 

//[SINCLAIR activates SCP-9800. A soft blue light envelops a predesignated radius around the transport, illuminating all personnel and objects within it, except for SAWA.]//

**SAWA:** See? Now go. You may not have much time anymore.

**BOWIE:** Thank you, Sawa. For all of this. Take care, now.

**SAWA:** Perhaps we will meet on the road again, some day!

//[The blue light intensifies to a flash. The expedition departs U-9800.]//
----
[[=]]
**<<END LOG>>**
[[/=]]
[[/div]]

The expeditionary team activated SCP-9800 and successfully returned all retrieved items to Outpost-618. Subsequent measurements of the frames of motion U-9800 and Prime Universe suggest that a connection will not be possible for the next 2,300 years. SCP-9800's current primary connection leads to a shallow sea with no landmasses in sight within the area of observation.


**Addendum 9800.3: Post-Expedition Developments**
Site-618 has since been restored to full operational capacity, and continues to house Anomalous Items, while SCP-9800 was transferred to Site-19. At the request of Director Bowie of Site-618, a memorial service has been held for all deceased Site-618 members, as well as their descendants.

Within the numerous data archives from the former Site-618, a significant amount of research had been conducted and recorded, including theoretical containment protocols, replication studies on Anomalous Items, and breakthroughs in non-anomalous disciplines. A complete genome of the U-9800 rice plant was also achieved, which revealed evidence of advanced genetic modification in the distant past, giving them highly enhanced yields, hardiness, and disease resistance, as well as the ability to self-propagate without agricultural intervention. After determining that these properties were entirely achievable by conventional genetic engineering, a weakened strain of U-9800 rice was developed and propagated via Foundation front companies outside the Veil.

**Addendum 9800.4: Regarding Instance of U-9800 Inhabitant**
In the following months, reports of an unidentified figure wearing white robes were received in Site-618. Investigation of these events revealed the presence of the U-9800 inhabitant known as "Sawa", which has since been identified as a minor tutelary pseudo-deity of U-9800 rice. The proliferation of this rice variety, albeit intentionally weakened, was sufficient enough to allow Sawa to manifest in the Prime Universe. 

Sawa was briefly contained as a low-risk humanoid anomaly, but has demonstrated an intimate knowledge of contained anomalies, standard operating protocols, and replication studies, among other skills. Due to them technically having been an irregular Foundation employee for over 80 years, formal employment at Site-618 was a preferable option to sustained containment. 

[[div class="notation"]]
[[=]]
**<<BEGIN LOG>>**
[[/=]]
----
**SAWA:** Felix. It's good to see you again.

**BOWIE:** That's //Director Bowie// to you.

//[Both burst out laughing.]//

**BOWIE:** Let's get down to business, Res. Sawa. Before you begin your duties here at Site-618, I'm obligated to ask you a few questions due to your unique circumstances.

**SAWA:** Anything you need.

**BOWIE:** Are you still doing that thing with your face? I can't recognize it now, but I didn't back then either.

**SAWA:** Oh! No, no, this one's more permanent. This was taken from a practice sculpture by Cleo. Cleo Lin-Dell. I believe it was meant to be me, as I truly am, however that may be.

**BOWIE:** That's great to hear. I'm familiar with her work, yes. 

**BOWIE:** Do you still have any attachments to U-9800?

**SAWA:** I still feel a connection to that place, but it's far weaker than it used to be. Like a fading memory. Sometimes I dream of the fields, rippling in the winds.

**SAWA:** Sometimes it calls to me. To go back.

**SAWA:** But I think I would rather not be alone again.

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

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