SCP-3XXX: "The Long Way Round"
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Site-54 (anomalous research zone A-54-B), the current location of SCP-3XXX.

Item #: SCP-3XXX

Object Class: Thaumiel

Special Containment Procedures (Revision 2 of 2): SCP-3XXX has been encased in concrete and replaced at its location of discovery. A guard detail is to be present at the location for as long as the Foundation exists, to ensure no outside interference. Should the event alluded to in Document 3XXX-Alfa transpire, SCP-3XXX is to be secured and protected at all costs, with priority level higher than the Foundation's core tenets.

Under no circumstances is the Foundation's Department of Temporal Anomalies to be allowed to begin in-depth research into SCP-3XXX — the object currently exists in a metastable loop, and the development of the relevant technology may prompt a second loop-catalyst and the development of a second SCP-3XXX instance.

SCP-3XXX's implications with regards to the nature of our universe, and its presumably cyclical nature, are currently not fully understood. Research is ongoing, but hampered due to a lack of possible involvement from the Foundation's major temporal specialists.

Description: SCP-3XXX refers to a non-standard piece of Foundation equipment, bearing the label "Model I Perma-loop chassis, T-Grade", unearthed beneath Site-54 during its construction. While no development of a "Perma-loop chassis" has taken place or is currently scheduled, the designation has been reserved in Foundation records since 2001, under the authorisation of an unknown person in possession of Level-5B ("unconditional") memetic passcodes.

Physically, SCP-3XXX resembles a high-grade vacuum suit (such as those worn by Foundation agents stationed at lunar Sites), albeit with significantly higher levels of armour plating, a locking mechanism accessible only from the interior, and what appear to be miniature temporal distortion engines attached to the back and shoulders. A display is also present on the object's 'chest' section, and at the time of discovery read "233 of 4096 approx". To prevent damage to the object, no attempts to examine its composition have been made — it is worth noting, however, that an initial attempt to remove a sample of the object's plating failed to cause any visible markings, even after the application of intense heat and pressure.

SCP-3XXX currently contains a single human subject in a constant state of temporal regression, referred to as SCP-3XXX-1. In the 72 years since the object's discovery, SCP-3XXX-1 has completely reverted to a fetal stage three times, and progressed naturally to an age of 27 in each case1. The subject will respond to external stimuli visible through the suit's visor, but appears to be heavily sedated at all times, preventing any two-way communication.

It is presumed that, when SCP-3XXX's internal systems detect a certain scenario (likely the passage of a specific amount of time), the suit will unlock and SCP-3XXX-1 will be released. What influence this event would have on our current timeline is unclear, and the fact that it has not yet occurred is believed by some staff to be an indication of an eventual high level K-Class scenario. As this has not been confirmed to any degree, all Foundation-led operations are to continue as normal.

Addendum: Document 3XXX-Alfa: At the time of its discovery, several ports of various makes and models were located on the front of SCP-3XXX's torso component, including various forms of obsolete USB sockets, a cassette player, non-standard audiovisual cable couplings (seemingly designed for smaller, more advanced methods of data transfer) and a magnetic strip of unknown function. The USB socket was opened and found to contain the end of a Foundation-model data cable, plugged into the socket and severed just above the connector.

When a non-damaged cable was inserted, SCP-3XXX began uploading a single video file to the connected device. It is transcribed below for archival purposes:

<Begin Log>

[The recording device is activated, revealing a young male of uncertain ethnicity, with clothing bearing the Foundation insignia. The subject leans back from the camera, looks down at a piece of paper on the table in front of them, and begins to speak]

"Hello. My name is Special Operative Kyle Wheaton, Delta-T, years zero to zero inclusive. The retroactive code batch with my verifications in it should arrive on 12/06/20022, and the password's "sw0rdfïsh_", with a zero, umlaut on the 'i', and an underscore at the end."

"If everything's gone according to plan, I'm currently in a temporal suppression device capable of keeping me alive over a theoretically infinite amount of time. I don't know the fine details, due to the risk of me going AWOL, but development finished on 20/04/2409, two months before I was/am going to be launched in the loop-catalyst timeline3."

"The event I'm tasked with halting, we'll call it Event Prime, starts manifesting as a causal chain around 1891, when a man in Wiltshire falls off a horse. Everything past that is what we call 'set', and basically plays havoc with attempts to alter anything about the chain, and specifically with the event in question. By '92, when Gladstone's elected Prime Minister, the ripples will have reached the edge of the metaphorical pond and started to fall back on themselves, and there's very little we can do other than clean up the mess when it happens. Event Prime's tricky like that. No, I can't tell you what it is, or when it happens. Don't worry, it's nothing you've currently got contained. You're doing a bang-up job keeping those under lock and key."

"As you probably know if you keep up with this sort of thing, there's a temporal anomaly around the 1990s that acts as a kind of roadblock for Britain's causality. Thanks to the 'lost time' nastiness we can't go back any further, and if we try to alter events already in motion it risks busting the engines keeping the whole thing tied up in a nice, closed, time-like bow. Hence me. An anomaly created under Directive: Toroid, which — thanks to the erasure of the aforementioned loop-catalyst — will never actually be proposed. Try asking Two about it, they're usually up-to-speed with abnormal procedures."

[The subject takes a drink of water, and shuffles the papers in front of them]

"Now the bad news. If you're hearing this, the calibration was slightly off and I wasn't awoken early enough to get to Wiltshire. Or, I woke up too early and had to get back in the suit. It's difficult to hit a tiny window of opportunity when you've got all of eternity to factor in. There's a basic learning computer built into this thing, so with any luck I'll get closer each time; all you have to do is bury me in concrete somewhere and wait a few trillion years for the next big bang to roll around."

[The subject grins, and reaches towards the recording device]

"I think that's all I need to tell you. Sorry about all the death and destruction that's coming your way."

"I'm sure I'll catch it next time."

<End Log>

Following the delivery of this message, the display on SCP-3XXX's chest altered to read "234 of 4096 approx" and the USB slot closed, severing the cable. Current containment procedures were enacted shortly afterwards.

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