Treatise On Multiversal Authorities

Link to article: Treatise On Multiversal Authorities.


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(none)

```
terminal
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scanline
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text
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blockquote
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=====
[[include component:preview
text=Or: The Death of Jacob Monroe]]
=====

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:dark]]
[[module CSS]]

div.terminal{
    border: 1px solid black;
    border: solid 3px #BBBBBB;
    border-radius: 16px;
    background-color: #131;
    /* black shadow at the top of the terminal */
    background-image:
        radial-gradient(ellipse 1000% 100% at 50% 90%, transparent, #121);
    background-position: center;
    display: block;
    /* shadow around the terminal */
    box-shadow: inset 0 0 10em 1em rgba(0,0,0,0.5);
    /* prevents scanline from forming a scrollwheel */
    overflow:hidden;
}
div.terminal blockquote {
    background-color: black;
    border: double 3px #80FF80
}
div.scanline{
    margin-top: -40%;
    width: 100%;
    height: 60px;
    position: relative;
    pointer-events: none;
    /* Safari 4.0 - 8.0 */
    -webkit-animation: scan 12s linear 0s infinite; /* You may need to change this. If the bar goes by too quickly, increase 5s. */
    animation: scan 12s linear 0s infinite; /* Same as above */
    background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(56, 112, 82,0), rgba(56, 112, 82,0.1)) !important;
}

div.text{
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div.text a:hover {
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    background-color: #80FF80;
    padding: 1px;
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div.text a:hover::before{
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[[/module]]

[[=]]
[[module Rate]]
[[/=]]


[[div class="terminal"]]
[[div class="scanline"]]
[[/div]]
[[div class="text"]]
[[=]]
[[size 150%]] __HELLO, TRAVELER.__[[/size]]
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@------@@
Welcome.
@@------@@
[[/=]]
@@ @@
@@ @@
@@ @@
[[div class="blockquote"]]
Hello, Civilization or Private Organization. This is an automated message sent out by the SECURE, CONTAIN, AND PROTECT FOUNDATION[[footnote]] Also known as the SCP FOUNDATION, located in UNIVERSE B11. If you are a variation of the SCP FOUNDATION, your membership to the MCT will be prioritized. [[/footnote]][[footnote]] If you are not a humanoid or must decrypt the message from the UNIVERSE B11 language "UNIVERSAL COMMON", please notify this as you contact, as we may believe you to be an anomaly in need of containment. [[/footnote]] on the detection of Type-A Wormholes in undetected areas or by unregistered groups, which are able to breach a universe's limits and allow multiversal travel.

This message is sent on the authority and grace of the MULTIVERSAL CONFEDERATION OF TRAVELERS, of which the SCP FOUNDATION is a founding member and heavy contributor to the cause of. The CONFEDERATION is a collection of independent organizations and civilizations collected under the singular cause of regulating and allowing safe and easy multiversal travel. All aspiring members are required to contact one of the member organizations or universes. A list of prominent organizations that are part of the CONFEDERATION can be found below.

> UNIVERSE B11: SCP FOUNDATION
>
> UNIVERSE C3NTRA: THE CITADEL
>
> UNIVERSE 115TTY: VARIANCE CENTER
>
> UNIVERSE B4GB4K: THE BAGEL BAKERY
>
> UNIVERSE 4HSRIP: CROM DELIVERIES
>
> UNIVERSE LO33R5: DIAPHRAGM RESEARCH

If you have been accepted for CONFEDERATION integration, you will need to keep in mind standard protocol for multiversal travel.

* A traveler is never to interfere in politics of another universe unless sanctioned by the CONFEDERATION.
* Travelers are to report any anomalies to the most convenient iteration of the SCP FOUNDATION for containment, unless an anomaly is deemed "normal" in that particular universe.
*  The Wanderer's Library, [http://backrooms-wiki.wikidot.com/ The Rooms Beyond Space], The Fourth Wall, and other means of travel used by subversive organizations[[footnote]] This includes other multiversal ways. [[/footnote]] such as The Serpent's Hand and The Wandsmen are not permitted for use by any CONFEDERATION personnel.
* Do not enter any universes without thaumaturgy, as it can be vital to multiversal transportation, and some of these universes have not advanced past a Type 1 Civilization, making it difficult to return.

Outside of these rules, CONFEDERATION Members are largely free to go about their prior activities. It is advised that your organization watch for any subversive groups or individuals, as they are plentiful and liable to cause damage to the integrity of the CONFEDERATION. A guide to identifying subversive individuals is below.[[footnote]] A full list of known and suspected Subversive Organizations can be acquired on request. [[/footnote]]

* If an individual openly proclaims themself to be subversive or against the CONFEDERATION, they may be treated as a subversive individual and imprisoned or terminated as seen fit.
* If an individual questions the authority or other qualifications of the CONFEDERATION, they may be a subversive individual.
* If an individual is part of a subversive group listed on the full list, they can be treated as such.

-----

If you have fully translated this message, and you still do not wish to join the CONFEDERATION for all the benefits that come with it, we of the CONFEDERATION urge you to reconsider. In the sea of enemies, the observers tend to be swept off the field much the same as the traitors, scum, and opposing soldiers.

We will welcome you here at THE CONFEDERATION, or perhaps, one day, we will reconnect you with your God.

Signed, FRITZ WILLIAM, Administrator of the SCP FOUNDATION.

[[footnoteblock]]
[[/div]]
@@ @@
@@ @@
[[/div]]
[[/div]]

There were 104,532,168 universes where Jacob Monroe existed, but this iteration had just returned to Universe B11, his home, after being branded a traitor by the self-branded "Multiversal Confederation of Travelers". Jacob sits up, rubbing his arms as he tries to drive the remaining feeling of tiredness from his body. He stretches, taking a sip of the day-old cup of water next to his bed. He had come to visit his family, to see how they were during the holiday season.

He opened up his phone, sending a message to his confidants in the Neo-Insurgency. Branded after some rebellion buried by the sands of time, and probably some well-placed money.

> **##green|MagesAwakening:** hey guys, stay safe today. merry christmas for all you who celebrate it##

He smiles to himself, before lying back down in his bed. It's Christmas, he's allowed to sleep in a bit. A present to himself, maybe. To himself, he thinks about what made them brand him like a rabid wolf. It takes a moment, but it was //probably// the fact he sent a few of their soldiers that were just killing people where they were occupying into various Apocalypse-Timelines. Yeah. That sounds about right.

+ BANG.

Shit. Oh shit. Fuck.

He didn't think they would be able to track him so easily during a two day stay.

But then they hit the front door once. It was loud and hard, like a sledgehammer, or a battering ram. Two more hits, then the sound of charging laser weapons. They readied themselves outside of the room, yelling inside.

"Come out," said the voice, "and we'll make sure your family doesn't get hurt."

Jacob thinks to himself, reaching under his bed and finding a page of magic that he brought with him in case of the worst. The Hand kept him well armed for the threat of the Jailers. He stuffs it under his coat, coming out with his hands raised in the air. They pat him down, not noticing anything out of place.

Beginning to lead him out of the family apartment, Jacob notices the open bedroom doors. Nobody was inside. Absolutely nobody. They must've been evacuated or escorted away. They begin to shackle him, as he reaches into his coat pocket to reach for the spell--

A laser bolt shoots straight between his eyes, a searing hole left where his brain should've been, instantly cauterized by the pure energy of the weapon. Jacob Monroe of Universe B11 collapses, dead.

...

[[size 95%]] Jacob Monroe awakes. He isn't sure what to do. He had just returned to his home Universe of C12 after an expedition to various apocalyptic universes. He was looking for ways to recruit more Freedom Fighters against the Universe-Jailers. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] But they had found him. He wanted to be closer to his family so that he could easily hop over for a few hours on Christmas. The motel was swarmed by them, Confederation Agents and MTF, the "Multiversal Terrestrial Fighters", were preparing to take the motel for him. He wonders how many of the recruits are just kids who got drafted in for the promise of food and infinite shelter. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] It doesn't matter, at this point. He grabs his tome of spells, whispering an incantation to create a barrier around the motel. It takes a moment of careful recitation, but he is able to manifest it. Nobody will be able to enter. He has no idea how long it will hold, so he locks the doors for good measure and begins reciting another spell-- One to take him back to the Library. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] The laserfire begins almost immediately. Jacob reads, trying to repeat the words perfectly, but he keeps messing it up. He can't focus at all. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] The barrier shatters. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] The laserfire pierces the building. [[/size]]

[[size 95%]] Jacob Monroe of Universe C12 collapses onto the alcohol and piss stained motel carpet with thirteen fatal wounds and forty-nine nonlethal. [[/size]]

...

[[size 90%]] Jacob Monroe awakes, stretching his arms as wide as he possibly can. He has to get ready for the dead-end job he's placed himself in. The cars aren't going to be assembling themselves. He's not too knowledgeable on the whole politics of the world, but he'd be damned if he didn't know something was going on. Lot of talk about spaceships. He makes a mental note to check the news when he gets home-- He hasn't had time with the work he's been having to put in. Somethin' about a "F194", whatever the hell that means. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] He walks into the factory, taking his place in the line and giving a wave to his co-workers. They make a few japes at him, asking where he's been. "Yeah, yeah," He mutters, "I know the boss would've had my ass if he bothered to show up on time. I'm a minute late, y'bastards." He snorts out a laugh, elbowing the guy next to him and getting to work. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] A whistle is heard for a moment, growing louder and louder, until everything cracks and flashes. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] Jacob's vision flickers in and out. He's under rubble. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] He can see co-workers running to the exit. They open the door and blasts of energy, their buzz of charging energy and distinct whish through the air can be heard. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] Somebody's boots, bearing the initials "M.C.T.". They're right in front of him. [[/size]]

[[size 90%]] Then it all goes black. [[/size]]

...

[[size 80%]] Jacob Monroe, assistant secretary to the Universe Ψ443 Confederation Liaison, types at his desk. He's gotten a few termination reports he's had to forward to his boss. A part he //always// enjoys is combing over the details of it, the traitor and details on their execution. Lot of Jacob Monroes in the multiverse, apparently. It's not a super uncommon name, but he must be a universal traitor to the Confederation. 1,114 after-action reports concerning a "Jacob Monroe" have been filed. [[/size]]

[[size 80%]] The only good traitor is a dead traitor, he supposes. He sips from his coffee, before hearing the call of his name over the P.A. Boss wants to see him, apparently. [[/size]]

[[size 80%]] He heads in, giving the Liaison a salute. She gives a half-hearted salute, obviously overworked, and a smile. There's a buzz that Jacob can't identify. "Do you know why I called you in, Jacob?" [[/size]]

[[size 80%]] "No, Ms. Starr. What's the situation?" His shoulders fade into ease from the attention he was standing at, before snapping back as she shoots him a glare. [[/size]]

[[size 80%]] "It's unfortunate that I have to be the one to break this news to you, but, we're going to have to make some adjustments to your schedule." Jacob tilts his head, before realizing what the buzzing noise was, as a blast of energy shoots through his chest. He feels the liquification of his organs from the blast, as his boss steps out from behind her desk. "It seems I misjudged the power of an energy weapon. Goodbye, traitor." She huffs, dropping the battery from the pistol and inserting another, the buzz slowly creeping to a conclusion, timed to the black stains around the edge of Jacob's vision finally closing in. [[/size]]

...

[[size 70%]] Jacob Monroe wakes... [[/size]]

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

Treatise On Multiversal Authorities

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