NOTICE FROM THE FOUNDATION RECORDS AND INFORMATION SECURITY ADMINISTRATION
The following document discusses the subject of an on-going investigation; as such, some information presented below may be subject to frequent change. Check back regularly for updates to this file.
— Dr. Caballero, Director of SCP-5700 Operations
SCP-5700? Has a neat ring to it, at least.
| Assigned Site | Project Lead | Project Assistant | Assigned Task Force |
| Site-17 | Dr. Caballero | Researcher Griffin | Epsilon-06 ("Village Idiots") |
SCP-5700-1 in Colorado, circa 1874.
Special Containment Procedures: The central northwestern region of the United State is to be continually monitored for SCP-5700-1 activity; should such activity be detected, members of MTF Epsilon-06 (“Village Idiots”) are to be dispatched to SCP-5700-1's location to engage and capture him if possible. SCP-5700-3 is to be monitored at all times and not be disturbed under any circumstances; any abnormalities in SCP-5700-3's status are to be recorded and reported to Dr. Caballero or Researcher Griffin immediately. Remaining SCP-5700 instances are to be housed at Site-17 and are permitted to interact with other residents at the discretion of relevant Site supervisors.
Alternative versions of historically-relevant instances' lives are to be inserted into public records as part of a general disinformation campaign. Possible historical references to SCP-5700's activity or members are to be expunged from any records in which they appear. Things like that are best left buried.
SCP-5700 and several Sioux native allies photographed shortly before a raid.
Description: SCP-5700 collectively denotes seven anomalous humanoids (designated SCP-5700-1 through -7) that appeared around and were primarily active throughout a period spanning from approximately 1872 to 1880 within the area now known as the central northwestern United States. SCP-5700 appears to have engaged in a form of guerrilla warfare against American settlers and government officials attempting to settle in their area of activity at the time in an apparent attempt to keep encroachers out of the area. SCP-5700 is believed to have coordinated with native American populations to this end.
Due to SCP-5700's activity having occurred prior to the establishment of the Foundation proper, it did not come to formal attention until shortly after 6/28/1979, following the detainment of SCP-5700-4, although other members of SCP-5700 had been encountered prior to that date. (See SCP-5700-2, -5). As such, a vast majority of information regarding SCP-5700 is unknown, with solid evidence of the group's activity remaining extremely scarce. Shortly after the Neutralization of SCP-1422 on 7/9/2007, more details about the history of SCP-5700's activity were able to be documented. SCP-5700 and SCP-1422 are thought to be unrelated at this time. It was never quite what I had intended, but it held out pretty long, eh?
Lt. Col. Custer, killed at the Battle of Little Bighorn. SCP-5700-6 is thought to have impersonated him and other generals to cause disorder in the American military.
Historical Activity: While a majority of SCP-5700's historical activity remains largely unknown, historical and firsthand accounts have been able to confirm the presence of at least some of its members at a variety of confrontations ranging small engagements to large-scale battles throughout their effective range during the period of their activity. Among the more well-known points of intervention are the battles of Rosebud and later Little Bighorn during the Great Sioux War of 1876, at which at least four members are confirmed to have been present.1 While literary mentions of SCP-5700 in soldiers' journals exist, these are extremely rare due to the infrequency of literacy among American citizens at the time.
The only known physical traces left of SCP-5700 activity are topographical or mineralogical abnormalities generated by SCP-5700-2 and -4's anomalous properties, namely in the form of unusual geological structures and increased crystalline mineral presence at battle sites.
Beyond these and related major events, SCP-5700 is believed to have engaged in smaller-scale raids on settler camps with the intention of expelling the settlers rather than killing them. The frequency of such raids is thought to have been high in SCP-5700's primary area of activity.
Addendum 5700.1: The following is a summary of all known data concerning the seven members of SCP-5700.
SCP-5700-1, historically known as Harry Yount.
Designation: SCP-5700-1
Known Aliases: Harry Yount
Containment: Uncontained, Alive
Description: Caucasian male appearing to be in their late forties possessing brown hair and hazel eyes. Modern sightings of the subject describe them as having a large beard.
Anomalous Abilities: SCP-5700-1 possesses anomalously sensitive electrosensitivity to the point of being able to detect and locate nearby organisms within a variable radius. Subject’s ability has also proven to be receptive to certain meteorological phenomenon such as thunderstorms, the presence of which is thought to cause SCP-5700-1 severe migraines. SCP-5700-1 also possesses negligible senescence, causing little to no aging since his abilities were initially obtained. All this hunting, all this chasing, and for what?
Interview 5700.1: On 12/18/2002, Dr. Caballero conducted an interview with SCP-5700-4 and -6 to gain a better understanding of the overall history and activity of SCP-5700. Below is a transcript of the interview.
Video Log Transcript
Interview 01 Video Log
Date: 12/18/2002
Interviewer: Dr. Caballero, Head of SCP-5700 Operations
Interviewees: SCP-5700-4, SCP-5700-6
[BEGIN LOG]
(SCP-5700-4 and SCP-5700-6 are already seated as Dr. Caballero enters the room and looks up from his clipboard smiling slightly. SCP-5700-6 nods upwards at the doctor. SCP-5700-4 begins to rise and reach for Dr. Caballero’s hand until he makes a declining motion and sits. SCP-5700-4 nods and reseats himself.)
Dr. Caballero: (Coughs lightly.) Good morning, you two. Keeping well?
SCP-5700-4: I am well, thank you.
SCP-5700-6: (Shrugs.) Still breathing.
Dr. Caballero: Anyway, I just had some questions about you and your, uh, friends. Moreso, I'd like you two to just give me a rundown on everything that went on back in the day. Archives has been getting on us about filling in our historical records as best we can.
SCP-5700-4: Of course, where would you like me to start?
Dr. Caballero: From the beginning, if you would.
SCP-5700-4: It had to have been around …probably 1870 or so. I remember there was snow.
Dr. Caballero: So winter. Maybe January or February perhaps?
SCP-5700-6: '72, and probably February.
SCP-5700-4: Either way, it was at the lake with black shores6 that it began. My niece Nahimana, that is -3, and I had been traveling and decided to set up for the night.
Dr. Caballero: Why was she traveling with you again?
SCP-5700-4: We had business in the area to attend to. She was my sister’s child, you see. Nahimana’s parents… well, there was an accident not long before then. She had already grown up with me around, so I took her as my own.
Dr. Caballero: Ah, my condolences. Now, you were camping along the lake then.
(SCP-5700-4 leans back in his chair and chuckles.)
SCP-5700-4: Yes. A beautiful place, that. We slept soundly until we heard yelling and woke up staring down the barrel of a rifle.
(SCP-57000-6 shifts in his seat, glancing at the floor.)
Dr. Caballero: SCP-5700-1’s original group?
SCP-5700-6: (Muttering.) Right on the money.
SCP-5700-4: Just say his name, it's so much less of a mouthful. But yes, most of his group, at least, probably around twenty men. Apparently we were “trespassing," so they were deciding what to do with Nahimana and I.
Dr. Caballero: SC—, uh, Yount's group was rather well-known in the area at the time. Were you at all familiar with him or his men?
SCP-5700-4: I myself had never met him or his group before that day, but I’d heard the stories. A settler with a distaste for settling, who hunted for necessity instead of sport, and who went even so far as to even mourn the animals he killed.
SCP-5700-6: That was him, alright. Wired a bit different, even before that frontier era. I'd gathered that much from hearing his story over the years. It was the War that changed him though. Uh, Civil War, that is. Hot lead and ash melted that heart of his, I guess.
SCP-5700-4: And if not for that compassion, we wouldn't be having this conversation. For some of them at least, their hatred didn't seem to be for my kind in particular, rather we were just in the way. In their eyes, Gerrit’s especially, we were squatting in someone’s backyard.
Dr. Caballero: Much of that area was still highly disputed at that point, though, right? Legality aside, being so quick to draw blood for such an offense seems like an overreach of the law, or at least their interpretation of it.
SCP-5700-4: (Laughs.) As if the law mattered there. Thankfully by the time they had dragged us out of our tent and thrown us in the snow, guns at our heads, a man came bursting out of the pines shouting like all hell. Up ran Harry Yount, yelling at the two holding Nahimana and I, grabbed their weapons, and tossed them away. Screaming at how they could even consider shooting a child.
SCP-5700-6: Chewed 'em out like all hell. He was almost like a myth to us all, so when he of all people started hollering like that, we all knew we had crossed a line. He kept at it for a good few minutes, too, if memory serves. He (imitating a deep voice) “couldn’t do this anymore, slaughtering these people, their children no less, in their own lands!”
SCP-5700-4: Harry grabbed his things and told Nahimana and I to pack up our camp. The whole while, his men stood there, just watching.
SCP-5700-6: (Chuckles.) That man turned to the rest of us, head held high, and said “I won’t sit idly by and watch these people be slaughtered in their own home anymore, nor these grand forests wiped out for our convenience. I’m putting an end to this invasion, one way or another.” He turned, and said “So says I.” God, how could I ever forget that. Always a bit of a poet, him. Then off they set down the shore.
Dr. Caballero: Did anyone step in?
SCP-5700-4: Simon, one of the men, was the first to speak. He yelled that Harry wasn't making any sense and was just going to get himself killed.
SCP-5700-6: Simon! I remember that dirtbag. But that was when I spoke up. I told him he was right! This was basically suicide with extra steps. But what did that matter to someone like me, who had nowhere to go? So I grabbed my pack, and walked right after them. It may have been a move ambitious beyond reason, but I still trusted Harry with my life. The other men were surprised to say the least, and their shock only grew when Gerrit and Sean stepped forward as well.
Dr. Caballero: So that’s… (Pauses.) …still only six of you.
SCP-5700-4: We had only gone a little ways down the shore before that scrawny young man bolted out of the jeering crowd, pack in hand, crying for us to wait for him.
Dr. Caballero: Were there any others that followed, or did anyone try to attack?
SCP-5700-6: None after that, though there were definitely some that wanted to. It was fear that bound the ones that would have joined us, and respect for Harry that stayed the ones that would have killed us. From there we pressed on north.
Dr. Caballero: Now, did any of you possess your anomalous qualities by this point?
SCP-5700-6: Not yet. For the time being we were still bona fide humans. Huh. (He turns toward -4.) Are we still considered humans?
SCP-5700-4: I doubt it matters at this point. Either way, after that, Harry and his men intended to… enlist, with the nearest native tribe in order to directly fight westward incursion. The nearest group with solid power and influence was the Nez Perce, just north of the geyser fields. I acted as the guide for the trip and decided we would cut through there to shorten the journey and avoid the high winds to the east.
Dr. Caballero: Geysers? I didn't think geothermal activity extended into that region.7
SCP-5700-6: Really? There're geysers popping up about everywhere 'round there. Ah, but regardless, once we'd traveled for a bit we decided to set up camp for the night. Right near that one huge spring. What do they call it now?
SCP-5700-4: The Grand Prismatic.
Dr. Caballero: Are you two just making those details up?
SCP-5700-6: I wouldn't stress over it, doc. But after we settled in, Hotah and the kid sat by the spring while the rest of us toasted over a fire. Some of us were definitely panicked, but none of us really had much waiting back east anyway. Harry had always questioned his role in the grand scheme of things, Carter was on the run from debts of some sort, and Peter had angered the wrong people back along the coast.
SCP-5700-4: It was more or less the same for Nahimana and I. Our people remained, but… we had our reasons for leaving.
SCP-5700-6: Harry stood guard that night while the rest of us tried to get some rest. Granted none of us really could sleep after a day like that. Of course, shit promptly hit the fan.
Dr. Caballero: Were you tailed by some of Harry's men?
SCP-5700-6: Oh, if things had only been that simple. We were finally starting to drift off when the spring burst into flames. Every color you could imagine, yellow, orange, pink, even ones that we don't even have names for; all of it spiraling up like a bonfire. Then a woman stepped forward from it. (Laughs.) I tell ya, if I didn't believe in God and the unseen and all that shit before this, I sure as hell would have after that. Gah, what a sight.
SCP-5700-4: The land made manifest. Oh, and the sound! The elements themselves rang like a symphony!
Dr. Caballero: Some kind of thaumalogical entity, by the sound of it.
SCP-5700-6: If that's a fancy way of saying 'god,' whether that's with a big G or a little g, then close enough.
SCP-5700-4: Something along those lines. Legend seldom translates to fact so cleanly, but for all she was in that moment, the old stories of Iná suddenly held a new weight.
SCP-5700-6: Whatever she was, she spoke to us not exactly in words, but in meaning. That's the closest I can come to describing it.
Dr. Caballero: Like a mental or psionic link or some sort.
SCP-5700-6: I think so. And what she said, well meant, was that we were needed. Something was coming and we were needed. By what we could tell at the time, that thing was probably the incoming waves of settlers from the East.
Dr. Caballero: 'At the time.' Did you come to suspect another force or cause?
SCP-5700-4: The elementals and gods of the land come to would lament the encroachment from the East, yet they would still persist all the same. Whatever she was preparing for must be far more of a threat than mere people. Far older, too, perhaps.
Dr. Caballero: An ominous conjecture.
SCP-5700-4: Yet a logical one all the same. Someone in your position of all people understands how blurred the line between myth and reality can become.
Dr. Caballero: I hope you don't mean to say there's a hostile force from your mythos on the horizon.
SCP-5700-6: I'm starting to doubt that. Whatever the case, nearly two centuries later here we are. I don't like to imagine it, but maybe she was wrong after all these years. Maybe making us into the Relay was just a desperate act to fend off intruders from those lands. Or maybe not, and everything that goddess planned still has yet to come to light. I honestly couldn't tell you.
Dr. Caballero: And you, Four?
SCP-5700-4:
[END LOG]
Incident/Interview 5700.1A.: On 12/24/2009 SCP-5700-1 was encountered in Fort Collins, Colorado by an off-duty researcher who saw and recognized the subject at a Christmas Eve church service. The researcher, Graham Hall, contacted his superiors and attempted to stall while MTF Epsilon-06 prepared to engage. Graham recorded the encounter using a discreet camera on his person.
During a sweep of the area following the MTF's arrival, Researcher Graham was found missing. The recording device was discovered broken on the ground nearby. The following is a transcript of the video file extracted from the device.
Video Log Transcript
Interview/Interview 01 Video Log
Date: 12/24/2009
Interviewer: SCP Geological Division Analyst Graham Hall
Interviewee: SCP-5700-1:
[BEGIN LOG]
(Graham’s reflection can be seen in a bathroom mirror as the video begins. He fiddles with the device for a moment before realizing his camera is recording. His posture straightens as he speaks to the camera’s reflection.)
Graham: Alright, so I have encountered SCP-5700-1 here in, uh, Fort Collins, Colorado. I’ve alerted Epsilon ‘o six, and they are currently en route. I am going to attempt to stall the subject until their arrival.
(Graham pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and exits the bathroom. A small lobby area can now be seen: several churchgoers are milling about, and SCP-5700-1 can be seen at the far end of the room near the door to the main chapel. Graham briefly makes small talk with some of the other people as he makes his way towards SCP-5700-1, who glances up from a small beverage as he approaches.)
Graham: Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, I’m Graham. (His hand enters the frame as he offers a handshake.)
(SCP-5700-1 eyes Graham hesitantly before shaking his hand and nodding politely.)
SCP-5700-1: Theodore.
Graham: A pleasure. Did you enjoy the service?
SCP-5700-1: Yes, it was very nice. I liked the part with, uh, Jesus.
Graham: He's the reason for the season, after all.
(Graham casts a wide look around the lobby.)
Graham: You visiting with anyone else tonight?
(SCP-5700-1’s eyes flicker to the table next to him. His posture stiffens and he picks up one of the two cups on the table, taking a sip.)
SCP-5700-1: Just me.
Graham: Ah. Well, we’re having a post-service party in a little bit. Nothing fancy, but(Graham pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and exits the bathroom. A small lobby area can now be seen: several churchgoers are milling about, and SCP-5700-1 can be seen at the far end of the room near the door to the main chapel. Graham briefly makes small talk with some of the other people as he makes his way towards SCP-5700-1, who glances up from a small beverage as he approaches.)
Graham: Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, I’m Graham. (His hand enters the frame as he offers a handshake.)
(SCP-5700-1 eyes Graham hesitantly before shaking his hand and nodding politely.)
SCP-5700-1: Theodore.
Graham: A pleasure. Did you enjoy the service?
SCP-5700-1: Yes, it was very nice. I liked the part with, uh, Jesus.
Graham: He's the reason for the season, after all. So, are you visiting with anyone else tonight?
(SCP-5700-1’s eyes flicker to the table next to him. He straightens up.)
SCP-5700-1: Just me.
Graham: Ah. Well, we’re having a post-service party in a little bit. Nothing fancy, just some snacks and hot chocolate. You're welcome to join if you're up for it. Do you have any family you’d like to invite?
SCP-5700-1: No, they’re all, um, gone.
Graham: Oh, I’m… so sorry.
(Pauses and stares off at something before shaking his head.)
SCP-5700-1: It’s fine. Either way, I'm not the partying type.
(Graham pats SCP-5700-1 on the shoulder. He flinches slightly.)
Graham: Trust me, I’ve been there, it's not fine. I'd hate to leave you alone on Christmas Eve of all days.
(Graham nods toward a decorative cross standing to the right of the two of them.)
Graham: I don't imagine He would be happy with that. I know a pub a block over from here. Quiet place. Sounds like we could both go for a break. I imagine
(SCP-5700-1's expression softens.)
SCP-5700-1: You buyin'?
Graham: Charity is a virtue.
(SCP-5700-1 sighs and places his beverage next to the cup on the table.)
SCP-5700-1: Why not?
(SCP-5700-1 sighs and places his beverage next to the cup on the table.)
SCP-5700-1: If you’re payin’… (Shrugs.) Why not?
(Graham and SCP-5700-1 leave the church and walk for a few minutes before reaching a local pub. They enter, seat themselves at the bar and order some food and drinks. By the time SCP-5700-1 has had a few drinks, he appears more relaxed and noticeably inebriated. He doesn't seem to notice his food arriving.)
Graham: So, you mentioned earlier about your family. Mind talking about it? Those kinds of things can weigh on you.
SCP-5700-1: (Sighs. His speech is very slightly slurred as he speaks.) We were great, the lot of us. Jumping from fight to fight, like nothin’ anyone’d ever seen. We were unstoppable, I tell ya. (He pauses to take another sip of his drink. He notices his food and picks a fry off of his plate and pops it in his mouth; a third of the burger has already been eaten.)
Graham: Military?
SCP-5700-1: Something like that.
Graham: Which war was this?
SCP-5700-1: (Swallows.) None you’d ever heard of. This was way before your time.
Graham: If you say so. (Graham reaches around SCP-5700-1 and takes a few fries from the plate. Half of SCP-5700-1’s burger has now been eaten.) You were good at what you did, then?
SCP-5700-1: The damn best. (He pauses.) At least we thought we were, for those eight, some-odd years. But the first— (He falls silent for a few moments before continuing.) …Nah.
(SCP-5700-1 lurches forward as though having been struck from behind. He swings around with a backhand but restrains himself. The seat beside him is empty. He mumbles something and turns back towards Graham.)
SCP-5700-1: Nah. That’s what we called her at least. I always just called her “kid.”
Graham: How old?
SCP-5700-1: Couldn’t have been more than nineteen or so when it happened. God, I remember it like it was yesterday. We were down by the Upper Basin. Hotah and her had just left to gather wood a few minutes earlier when we hear a gunshot and a crash of glass. Carter, Eric, and I ran up the hill to see what had happened. A stranger, well, what was left of him was lying mangled under a huge pile of crystal leaves and branches. Hotah must have turned the tree into… gah. Bastard's rifle was still smoking when we ran in.
(He takes another large sip; he calls over the bartender who comes by and refills the drink.)
SCP-5700-1: He was holding her when we finally got up to the clearing. God, there was so much blood. One large gunshot, right in her stomach. Goddammit, I can still remember her face, the fear, the… (He trails off and is silent for a few moments. He takes another sip and says something unintelligible at the empty seat next to him.)
Graham: I don’t want to put you through this again if it’s too painful to—
SCP-5700-1: No, I’m alright, it’s just… I can understand why the bastard would have gone after Hotah, but her? A child? Even the rowdiest of folks back then should have known better than that. (He sighs.) This was exactly what I was trying to prevent in the first place, and still, still, it all came back to bite me in the ass anyway.
(Graham remains silent. SCP-5700-1 slides his plate in front of him and begins picking through the fries. He scans the counter briefly.)
SCP-5700-1: Didn’t I get a burger?
Graham: Didn’t you eat it?
(SCP-5700-1 shakes his head.)
SCP-5700-1: We buried her there that evening. Everyone was… broken. Hotah just sat next to the grave, blank-faced; the poor guy just didn’t know what to do. By dusk we finally started heading back to camp. I hung back with Hotah for a little bit. That’s when we water started gushing out of the ground. I had to pull him away from the grave as the flow grew, he kept insisting she was somehow still alive, that we had just buried her too quickly. Boiling water came blasting out, hot enough to warm you to the bone from ten feet away. Within minutes there was a brand-spanking-new hot spring where there had been glass and blood just a few minutes ago.
Graham: That’s… odd.
(SCP-5700-1 laughs bitterly; he is now clearly drunk and slurs even more his words as he speaks.)
SCP-5700-1: I thought so too until I saw that bright light streaming out of it and ta-da! Who is it?
(He pauses and looks towards Graham as though expecting an answer.)
Graham: Was it, uh, Na—
SCP-5700-1: Nope, it’s that water bitch from eight fucking years ago. Starts blabbin’ about how she wasn't dead and still “had a part to play” or some bullsh—
Graham: (Interrupting.) Harry, tone it down a little, people are starting to stare.
(SCP-5700-1 quiets down, his voice sinking to a mutter. The bartender comes by, eyes him, then refills his glass with water.)
SCP-5700-1: Sorry, there's a lot to unpack there. I never should have dredged all that up.
Graham: I'm sorry I put you back through that.
SCP-5700-1: No one's fault but mine. I think I’ve had my fill of storytelling for tonight. Might be time to part ways.
Graham: I'm can't let you wander off on your own with you like this. Let me help you get home, at least. Where are you staying?
(Graham’s phone buzzes. He takes it out, and the leader of MTF Epsilon-06 operations Henrick Alpin's contact can be seen on the screen.)
Graham: Actually hold that thought, Harry. I gotta take this, can you just give me one sec?
(SCP-5700-1 nods and leans back, mumbling something. Graham steps outside into a snowy parking lot and dials the contact.)
Graham: Hello?
Alpin: Graham? We’re almost there, how are you holding up?
Graham: I’m fine, Har— uh, 'dash one' is in the pub at my location. I got him a little drunk, so there’ll be no need for lethal force, just some amnestics for the locals.
Alpin: You what? Excellent job, kid. (He barks some commands to someone off-mic.) Alright, we’ll be there any minute now, just keep him busy for a little bit longer. Got it?
Graham: Alright, but there's no telling how fast he'll sober up, being anomalous and all. (Pauses.) Don't be too rough with him if you can help it. Like I said, you won't need leth—
Alpin: Careful, Graham. I shouldn't have to tell you that sentiment can kill as easily as a gun in our line of work. As far as we need be concerned, that thing isn't a person. It's an anomaly. Plain and simple. Don't overcomplicate that.
Graham: R-right, sorry. See you soon.
(Graham pockets his phone and turns back towards the pub. SCP-5700-1 is leaning against the building, staring at Graham. He shakes his head and stands up straight.)
SCP-5700-1: You seem like a nice kid, but you are a terrible liar.
Graham: What are you talking about?
SCP-5700-1: You called me 'Harry' in there.
Graham: Your point?
SCP-5700-1: I never told you my real name.
Graham: Maybe you just don't strike me as a 'Theodore.'
SCP-5700-1: I should'a known when I first saw you. I could feel your pulse going wild, I thought, “Wait, what if this guy’s one of them?”
Graham: Harry, please, I—
SCP-5700-1: I mean, to be fair, you were nice enough to make me doubt that. (He chuckles.) I might still be little drunk, but I thought your heart was racing because you were into me or something.
Graham: I don't want this any more than you do.
SCP-5700-1: Oh, look who’s talkin’! You couldn’t just let a couple of old men have their rest, could you?
Graham: I don’t like it either, but you’re anomalous, they won’t let you just run off.
SCP-5700-1: Just because I can feel electricity more than your average Joe, I just have to be locked away forever, is that it?
Graham: I mean, you're also kind of an immortal ecoterrorist.
SCP-5700-1: That's beside the point.
(He perks up and looks around.)
SCP-5700-1: We're done here, I can feel your dogs closing in. (SCP-5700-1 turns to run but pauses. After a moment, he turns back towards Graham, a tired smile on his face.) You're a good kid. Don't let them take that from you. (He tips his head slightly forward.) Merry Christmas, Graham.
(SCP-5700-1 appears to reach for something besides him and vanishes. Graham scans the parking lot confusedly; Epsilon-06 vehicles finally arrive, and agents begin to unload. Henrick Alpin approaches Graham.)
Alpin: (To the other agents.) I want a full sweep of this place. Migs, prep some gen-retro for the civis. (Turning to Graham) Graham, which way’d he go?
Graham: (Looking around confusedly.) I… wait, he was right here.
Alpin: Yes, but where is he now?
Graham: (Clutches his head.) Gah, what the hell? He was here and then…
Alpin: (Rolls his eyes and shakes his head.) Oh well, good enough job getting us the heads up, he couldn’t have gotten very far, especially loaded up on booze like that.
Graham: Y-yea. What should I do?
(Alpin produces a small handgun from his belt and hands it to Graham handle-first.)
Alpin: We’re not letting this bastard slip away again. I expect you won't either. (He cranes his head down towards Graham, locking eyes with him.) Do what you know you have to do.
(Graham nods and departs in the direction of a nearby line of trees. A full moon illuminates the area brightly. As he approaches, two sets of footprints become apparent in the snow, one of them made by long, dragging steps. Graham draws his weapon and follows the footprints further, passing the tree line. In the distance, a flicker of movement dances on the edge of the camera and Graham turns to face it: in the distance a flickering figure can be seen hobbling through the snow, continuing the trail Graham was already following.)
(Graham raises his gun, braces himself, and fires off three shots. Upon the third shot, the figure solidifies, stumbles, and falls over. Graham runs over towards the subject but slows as he grows closer. SCP-5700-1 can be seen getting up from the ground, apparently unharmed, and now pulling a second man along with him, clutching a fresh gunshot wound to his shoulder. As Graham draws closer, the man slows to a stop and looks back at him. The man is aged, but unknown digital distortion prevents detailed rendering of his face. SCP-5700-1 raises his hands slowly.)
(The man slowly shakes his head.)
SCP-5700-1: Please.
(Graham is silent, his gun trained shakily on the two figures before him. Graham’s voice is shaky as he speaks.)
Graham: I don't want to do this any more than you do, Harry. Just come quietly and we can sort this all out at Site-17. Hotah is there, he's still alive! He'll be thrilled to see you!
SCP-5700-1: You don't have to do this, Graham. There's something, a kindness in you, that doesn't belong with those people.
Graham: (Shakes his head frantically, his voice breaks.) They're all I have.
SCP-5700-1: What have they given you? Let me guess, a tiny apartment? Lies of a promotion? Mindless paperwork to keep you tucked away in your cubicle? Or false hope that it'll all change for the better someday? That's not a "life" or whatever you want to call it, that's Stockholm Syndrome.
Graham: That's not… it's different than that!
SCP-5700-1: We both know that's not true. Your kindness was enough to make me of all people question whose side you were on. They're not working with you, Graham, they're using you.
(Graham attempts to stutter a refutation for a few seconds before falling silent, his gun still trained on the two figures.)
Graham: (Laughs nervously.) Look at me, hunting down a couple of tired old men like animals. God, and you're far from the only ones. There are others with much more mild abilities than you out there that are being locked away for simply existing. And you're right! It isn't fair, none of it is fucking fair!
(He is silent for a moment before grunting loudly in frustration and lowering his weapon. He looks down at the gun in his hands before looking back up to the men.)
Graham: I don't want to do this. I got dragged into this whole shitshow over a stupid research paper I published in college. If I let you go there'll be consequences. I could lose my job, my home, my…
SCP-5700-1: You don't owe them anything.
(Graham wipes his eyes and sighs shakily.)
Graham: I read your file. A man, no, a whole group of men that willingly threw away everything to try and stop a crude injustice and right their own wrongs. You fought back because you knew you couldn’t bear to sit through any more of the carnage, all while knowing good and well that you could never actually win. Now tell me, not as SCP-5700-1, but as the man who made a choice all those years ago, was it truly all worth it?
(Everyone is silent for seven seconds.)
SCP-5700-1: Every last second. (He smiles.) So says I.
(Graham rips the recording device from his clothes and stomps down on it, shattering the camera lens and critically damaging the recording apparatus. As the video fades, Graham can be seen embracing the men and following them along into the snowy woods.)
[END LOG]
Note: Epsilon-06 was unable to locate Researcher Graham Hall, SCP-5700-1, or the unknown man; the search for the three subjects is still underway. Graham has been discharged of all Foundation association and is considered an enemy of the Foundation at this time. Investigations into the identity and abilities of the unknown man traveling with SCP-5700-1 are ongoing.
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₣o∪ndatίon,
You have taken it upon yourself to shield our world from the inexplicable, regardless of the costs, and for that we all commend your dedication, but even your eternal duties can have their limits— not everything, not everyone need be locked away.
When the seven of us set out all those years ago to defend an ancient land from the “good guys" as history would come to call them, we knew it would not be an easy task, and in the end we did fail. We scattered off to who knows where to do who knows what, never staying in the same place for too long. Be it angry townsfolk accusing you of demonic possession, or even the earliest shell of what would become your Foundation, nowhere was truly safe for very long. Doubtless, some of your number know what it's like to live on the run, to be unable to settle down, with even a moment's rest meaning the danger nipping at your heels will catch up and end it all. We've lived like this for over a century, and it's just tiresome.
So, Foundation, I say this to the side of you that is human, the side that looks into the eyes of the people that you lock away and knows, at least regretfully, that there is a soul behind some of those eyes that wishes for nothing more than to be left alone. Truly I ask you, what harm is there in letting these tired old men rest? Do not let these mysteries and relics of times gone concern you anymore.
For all of our sakes, let the past die quietly.
So says I.
— Eric