SCP-1917
rating: +43+x

Item #: SCP-1917

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1917 is located within Area-1917-1, where it was initially discovered. There has yet been no cause to remove it, and the risk of disturbing its current self-containing behavior has been deemed sufficient reason to allow it to remain. Site-127 has been established to facilitate containment of both SCP-1917 and other nearby anomalies, and is located at ground level above the Area.

As SCP-1917 is capable of providing all components necessary to its survival and has resisted all efforts to modify its routine, it requires no human interaction to contain. Instead, the containment team is to attempt to research the history of GoI-004F, establish neutral or positive relations with other former members of the group, and prevent public awareness of the religion as a whole (see CotBG Suppression Protocol Alfa-Hotel-RATCHET for more details).

Description: SCP-1917 is a sapient biomechanical humanoid of abnormal strength and size. It stands 3.5 metres tall, can lift weights upwards of 1,500 kg, and has demonstrated sufficient knowledge to repair, maintain, and make minor improvements to its own structure. The entity possesses (among other augmentations) two additional arms extending from the shoulderblades, continuous track mechanisms in place of the feet and lower legs, and interlocking metal plates replacing all skin below the neck. SCP-1917 is fully powered via a (presumably anomalous) miniature steam engine housed in the chest area, needing abnormally small quantities of fuel to continue functioning. The entity does not require any sustenance beyond fuel and a small quantity of water, and controlled tests have shown it to be capable of surviving in highly toxic, low-oxygen environments.

SCP-1917 resides within a subterranean complex on the outskirts of Manchester, England, designated Area 1917-1. The structure consists of three main sections, listed as follows:

  • Eight sets of living quarters, including a bedroom, washroom, and walk-in storage area. SCP-1917 spends the majority of its time within one of these, and the other seven appear to have been left abandoned for many years.
  • Two workshops containing machining equipment, welding tools, and large reserves of both coal1 and iron. At the point of discovery, both rooms were filled with a variety of mechanical components, miscellaneous devices, and artificial body parts in various stages of completion.
  • A large chapel, with an immense stained-glass window lit from behind2. The stone floor of the area has been worn in places by SCP-1917's passage, but the areas outside of the pulpit and centre aisle are largely untouched.

Extensive interviews have revealed that SCP-1917 purports to be a member of GoI-004F ("The New Ferrous Brotherhood") — an archaic branch of the Church of the Broken God founded during Britain's industrial revolution3. The entity claims it possesses the title of Bishop, and when prompted recited from memory several sacred texts and mantras. As GoI-004F was officially dissolved in 1890 following a coup by the Cogwork Orthodoxy, SCP-1917's claims cannot be verified.

Addendum — Behavioural Analysis: When left to its own devices SCP-1917 will follow a uniform routine, performing ablutions and self-maintenance, delivering a long sermon in the chapel, and returning to its quarters, where it undergoes a brief period of unresponsiveness and near-immobility (termed a Delta state, see below). This cycle repeats approximately every six hours, with occasional minor deviations brought on by external influences (most frequently changes in temperature, weather, human interaction or seismic activity).

Research has shown that, despite appearances of contentedness and satisfaction, SCP-1917 does not display full knowledge of its current situation. It possesses little or no memory of daily events, and has yet to consistently recognise a Foundation researcher, even those who perform weekly check-ups. Questioning has revealed it still believes it to be 1872, and despite being fully in control of its mental faculties, it refuses to acknowledge that its sermons are delivered to an empty room, even when shown direct evidence of this fact. It is currently believed that the aforementioned Delta states are either the cause or effect of this memory lapse, as all attempts to convince SCP-1917 of its cyclical nature have resulted in the state occurring prematurely4.

Notably, researchers examining the entity have found that the natures and durations of Delta states conform to only a small number of variations, suggesting an element of design rather than simple mechanical failure. The reason for this is unknown.

Addendum — Interview 1917-05:

Interviewer: Agent Four-B-Zero-Mortise, a defector from the Church of the Broken God under Foundation employ. Selected here due to their largely mechanical composition and unique position to sympathise with SCP-1917.

Interviewed: SCP-1917

Foreword: The following interview was conducted informally within Area-1917-1, in order to ascertain SCP-1917's reaction to another semi-mechanical humanoid. Video footage is available from the Site-127 archives.


<Begin Log>

Agent Mortise: Hello, Father.

SCP-1917: Hmm? Who's- Oh! You must be the cleaner.

Agent Mortise: Oh, aye. That's me. The cleaner. Here to clean.

SCP-1917: Well, I won't stand in your way. I just finished my final sermon, so I'm nearly ready to go. They idolise me, you know. Can hardly bear to let me depart.

Agent Mortise: You're going somewhere?

SCP-1917: Oh, didn't anybody let you know? I've retired. Finally hung up the old toolbox, so to speak. Honestly, I…

[SCP-1917 pauses and leans in closer]

SCP-1917: It's hard to keep this to myself, and you look like a sensible young lad. Promise you won't tell anyone?

Agent Mortise: My lips, if I had 'em, would be sealed.

SCP-1917: Hah. Yes. Well, anyway, I'm starting to have my doubts about the whole… religion thing.

Agent Mortise: Pretty unusual, for a bishop.

SCP-1917: Mhm. Well, there's got to be more to life than just huddling in a damp corner of a church. Standing here, preaching to everyone about a god none of us have ever seen. That's my view, anyhow. I'm high enough up in the ranks that there's not much they can do about it other than give me an unexpected upgrade as a retirement present and wish me the best of luck. Surprisingly nice of them.

[SCP-1917 taps the side of its head]

SCP-1917: Pretty slick, what they can do with iron these days. A bit of my brain, whirring away like that — makes me think almost normally. [Pause, during which SCP-1917 shuts its eyes] Almost. Still slips up occasionally. Minor ticks and jerks. They said they'd fixed it completely, but I'm not so sure.

Agent Mortise: [Nodding] I get what you mean, yeah. Back when I was… uh, part of the church, I guess, I used to love the upgrades. Best part of the whole deal, I reckon. But being a robot gets dull after a while.

SCP-1917: Oh? You used to be a member of the clergy as well?

Agent Mortise: More a follower, but yeah. Little place not far from here. To be honest, I mainly joined 'cause I thought it looked fun.

SCP-1917: Ah. We have a few like that. Kids who just want to be able to spit fire or crush buildings, then bolt as soon as there's talk of brain modification. I won't lie, I'm beginning to see things that way as well. Metal's all well and good, but I can't help wanting to see the world before my eyes get replaced with glass.

[SCP-1917 sighs, releasing a small cloud of steam]

SCP-1917: They'll try to stop me of course, they almost worship me, but it's something I've got to do. Go and experience more than just mechanics, find out what the rest of the world has to offer. Just let me-

[Several audible clicks are heard emanating from SCP-1917's head in rapid succession, accompanied by the sound of screeching metal, and it ceases motion for 63 seconds. It does not react to this afterwards, and is presumably unaware that time has passed]

SCP-1917: -do one last sermon, and then I'm off. Get everything wrapped up properly, you know?.

Agent Mortise: I… I think I do, yeah.

[SCP-1917 smiles]

SCP-1917: I don't regret my choice, though. Not even a little. It'll do me good to get out and about.

<End Log>

Following this, SCP-1917 returned to the chapel and proceeded to deliver a seventy-minute sermon before retreating to its quarters. Similar interviews have yielded near-identical results, and no changes to the entity's routine have yet been observed.

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