rating: +79+x
The following file is Level 1/5292 Classified. All Site-120 personnel as well as visiting personnel are allowed to access as they see fit.
All access is permitted and encouraged.

Report Date: 20/02/1916

Designation: PL-X0R38/0124 (Codename — "Library of Babel")

Containment Protocols: No civilian entry allowed — cover story: retrieval of miners from a catastrophe. Currently kept under constant observation by my team. Books found within to be examined soon and sent to Overwatch if needed. "The Keeper" to be questioned and then contained with rituals. Provisional Site-120 to be filled with personnel associated with thaumaturgy for further book study.

Description: Item is a large, non-Euclidean library located approximately 60 meters underground the mines in Częstochowa, Poland, with numerous currently untranslated phrases written in Fae above its entry. Though exterior suggests it is only 100 m x 100 x 20 m large, its interior is approximated to be around three times that size.

Inside, a spectral human (Codename — "The Keeper") can be found. Despite being theorized to date from ancient times, it is able to converse in any existent language at will and possesses superficial knowledge of the outside world, with most recent facts possessed by it dated back to the 17th century. Despite being non-cooperative towards Foundation personnel, due to its state, it is not able to do anything — the only actions it undertakes are walking around and reading books, with which it is able to interact. Research as to a potential curse binding it to item is currently ongoing.

Item's shelves are filled with books written in nonexistent languages, describing either currently uncontained and undiscovered anomalies or nonexistent phenomena. Although most of such are as previously mentioned currently unreadable, current estimates suggest that approximately 1% of the books are written in languages known to mankind.

Discovery: Discovered on 13/01/1916 by MacCarthy's team during their reconnaissance mission concerning intelligence reports of a Free Port existing near Częstochowa, Poland. When clues reported by agents and local authorities led them to the local mines, a search mission initiated shortly after revealed the existence of a buried entrance to item. Further action opened it up, allowing for entry.

Due to this discovery as well as the still unfinished actions regarding the potential existence of a Free Port in the vicinity, Provisional Site-120 had been established on 15/02/1916 in the mines near the entrance to item. This base of operations is to be utilized for as long as needed. No civilian entry allowed, with only my team, MacCarthy’s team, Task Formation Pl/120, and Micheals allowed to operate within permanently. Shipments of further building material as well as human resources required for further operation currently pending approval from Overwatch.

— Hannah Rivera, Project Lead of the Polish Containment Project


Dr. Rivera,

Your request for additional resource shipments to Provisional Site-120 has been forwarded to O5-11 and officially approved. However, it was his official request that your search regarding the local Free Port ensues with more force than previously. The Council appreciates your efforts in attempting to establish an official Site within Poland, but that is not why you are there — the project to turn Provisional Site-120 into an indefinitely operating Site has been denied. You have been sent there solely to look for the Free Port, not to establish new Sites — a need for that currently does not exist. You have already sent us 7 requests for this. Any further ones will be met with disciplinary action.

— Maria Jones, the Secretary of the O5 Council


The following is a transcript of my conversation with The Keeper, as transcribed by Raia Micheals, conducted a few days after the discovery. Note that since the discovery, it has been contained within one sector of PL-X0R38/0124 by Task Formation Pl/120 using standard containment rituals and circles for easier access for interviews.

<Conversation start>

Rivera: So, for the record — who are you?

Interviewed: Do you even want an answer to that?

Rivera: What?

Interviewed: Do you even want an answer to that, or do you want to mark me down as "not-cooperative," as you always do?

Rivera: W-what is that even supposed to mean?

Interviewed: And what do you think it was?

Rivera: Just answer the goddamned question!

Interviewed: <Sigh> I am David, son to Lamech, brother to a few. I keep this place alive. Is that enough?

Rivera: And what is your role here, exactly?

Interviewed: And what do you think it is?

Rivera: I— <sighs> Can. You. Answer. Normally? Why the hell must you be like this?

Interviewed: As I said, I keep this place alive. Someone has to. The lights need to burn, the books need to be read. If not, what are they for?

Rivera: Well, aren't they supposed to store knowledge?

Interviewed: And what is knowledge that's forgotten good for? Isn't knowledge's entire point to be known?

Rivera: I am the one asking questions here. Comply or get back into that containment ring.

Short pause.

Rivera: Who built this place?

Interviewed: I did.

Rivera laughs.

Rivera: All by yourself? Genuinely hilarious.

Interviewed: Do you find disrespecting me humorous?

Rivera punches the desk with her fist.

Rivera: Now, can you comply, like I told you twenty times already? Or do you want to never leave the goddamned cir—

Interviewed: I am the only source of information about this library you have, yet you choose to do this instead? Hilarious. Well, if you want a story, you'll get one. I witnessed the birth, rise, and fall of the old world. I witnessed as the rulers of it sought for what was not theirs and fell upon the might of God himself. I witnessed when He decided the world was too corrupt to exist as his creation and I witnessed when He made my brother build the biggest ship anyone has ever seen and I was there when water cleansed everything impure, watching from within this cursed library I was tricked into building. I witnessed as the world was built anew, coming from the sunken ashes of the flooded depths of the old one. I witnessed as you created the same empires built on the same mistakes, alone in your power, not learning anything, yet you, you think you know anything? You don't! You are the same people that came before you and you will be the same ones that will come after you, not realizing anything everyone tried to make you learn, yet you are here, thinking so highly of yourselves The only genuinely hilarious aspect of this conversation is the fact you think you're in a higher position than me. I was here before you and will be after you pass into being forgotten, filling humanity's pit in hell with more bodies.

Rivera: I…

Pause for a minute.

Rivera: I… the books. You mentioned the books before. What are they? Why are they in nonexistent languages?

Interviewed: They are the punishment for what I've done. A constant reminder that you will always be the same, no matter the time. A reminder that you will never understand your worthlessness alone.

Rivera: Do you even know the languages they're written in?

Interviewed: Of course I do. I simply can't share them.

Rivera: Then why the hell don't you help? Do you even know how many people will die if we don't figure out this goddamned Free Port?!

Interviewed: Because I wanted an easy way out, and look where it got me.

<Conversation end>

Comment: The Keeper has once again shown that it is not able to cooperate — from refusing to answer my questions to being outright aggressive towards me and my men — this is not only unacceptable but actively malicious towards my staff. I officially request allowance for an official exorcism to be conducted so that we can peacefully study the books within PL-X0R38/0124.

— Hannah Rivera, Project Lead of the Polish Containment Project

Hannah Rivera left the room, angry. It always happened to her. She always got the worst ones to cooperate with — the irony of being the human resources manager and not being able to deal with the bullshit of the anomalous was quite funny to her if she was honest. But that didn't matter anyway. That was the last project on her schedule today, and now all she needed to do was to come back to the operation hub and she was free. She'd work on the plans of Site she'd send to Overwatch, but ever since those bastar—

"What the fuck was that?" Suddenly, a voice invaded her palace of thoughts. A young and soft voice, but a voice angry at who it was directed towards nonetheless. "What in the actual fuck were you thinking?" Raia Micheals said, with their glasses almost falling off as they nearly tripped on one of the looser stones within the floor of the lowest level of the library.


"What the hell do you think Overwatch will say when you send them this? Not only is this blatant mistreating of sentient anomalies, which, may I remind you, it's not the 19th century anymore, but you are showing extremely unprofessional behavior recently, and moreover, how the hell is this evidence for any lack of cooperation?! You are the—"

"We are here to research the goddamned library and its connections to the Free Port, which, may I remind you, is a threat to normalcy and these fucking civilians. When the only person we can get information from is blatantly not cooperative, I get angry, of course I do. I am sick to death of being the one they always send for these bullshit missions and make me do bullshit interviews, and when I do everything as they want, they reject my plans of approving a Site I've been working towards for the better part of this goddamned century, you—" She stopped. "I… I'm sorry, Raia. I shouldn't have."

"It's okay. I get that." They sighed, opening their clipboard up. "Did you get any further reports about the Free Port?"

"Vemhoff's team translated some of the books here. The ones from the section about local inhabitants, I mean, and, well, we got its name."


"It's apparently called Esterberg, Fae for City of the East. I… that's everything. For two weeks, all they got is the goddamned name." Rivera said, rubbing her tired eyes. "I'm tired, Raia. I really am."

"I know. Everyone is." Raia sighed, trying their best to not dump their problems onto Rivera. "Overwatch tried sending some task forces into Częstochowa to find something, but other than a few spikes in Akiva and Hume around some places, it was mostly no—"

"Wait. That… that might do something." She said, with a little more happiness in her voice than before. "Did they ever find a reason for that?"

"I.. no, I don't think so. They tried to mark the Hume footprints to some old rituals conducted by locals a while ago, but other than that, I don't think they did."

"If you could look into that, I'd appreciate it. Might lead to something. Hopefully."

"I… I will."

As the both of them finished speaking, neither of them walked away. The everpresent half-darkness by the library was… almost pleasant, really. It was a weird feeling, somewhat reminiscent of their childhoods, but neither of them reacted. They were too tired to notice, as everyone always was. But they wouldn't notice that either.


Vemhoff sent me another report today — they translated a lot more than last time. From what I picked up some of the recent translations had some Russian and Polish thrown into them and they were able to extract some words and sentence structures, so this time, it went much more easily.

They weren't able to do much, though. The only really important text is some pseudo-biblical shit they said is most likely legitimate, but somehow anomalous — the basic idea was that it was there in the original book, but something happened. I attached it below. The only things concerning the Free Port were some maps from the 1700s, which definitely confirmed it is in fact in this city — whilst they did point to specific entries into the pocket dimension, all of them have been long-dead. But it is confirmation that these entries still exist, be it in similar forms. That's something, I suppose.

At least we know The Keeper didn't lie.

Also, Vemhoff said he wanted to talk with you. Privately.

— Raia

Hannah Rivera sighed, knocking on the door of Vemhoff's new office. As angry as she was that she was treated like a child despite being his supervisor, she was glad she at least didn't have to walk up the stairs of the library to Provisional to meet with him — she was quite happy the translation team had listened to Raia's proposal to move all of their stuff down to the library itself for easier work. Raia always had good ideas. At least better than Hannah did.

"Come in." A young but confident voice answered the call, allowing for entry into its sacred archives. As the large, wooden doors opened, they revealed a small, dimly lit room. Despite numerous bookshelves located within, the main point of it was a large desk upon which stacks and stacks of unsorted papers could be seen.

"I've heard you wanted to talk to me," Rivera said, trying to locate the person that had invited her.

Two eyes were suddenly lifted from the papers, and a tired face filled with wrinkles despite its young age looked up to the woman entering. "Yes. Yes, I have."

She shouldn't be worried nor nervous, she was his goddamned supervisor, but for some reason, her heart beat quicker than it should have when the linguist's eyes looked at her. "What seems to be the problem?" Despite having literal authority over him, she was nervous. Why, she could not tell.

"I got more info," Vemhoff said, moving some of the papers from the stacks into his hands. "Alone. I… I discovered something I wasn't sure anyone else should know."

"And what is that?"

"Well, I… I got my hands on some old papers written by local authorities from a while back, all in the same dialect of Fae as some of the ones we found here, and well," he sighed, "Esterberg isn't the bad ones here."

She backed off a little. "What?"

"Exactly what you heard me say," he replied, standing up from his desk. "The Free Port we've been chasing as a threat to locals has been actively protecting them for generations. Our entire mission here is useless."

"That's… no. No, no it fucking isn't. This is ridiculous." With every minute, she was angrier. The thought that all her work was useless was not something she could handle. "Even if true, this still doesn't mean we don't need to deal with them. They are an active anomalous society, effectively spreading thaumaturgy and other phenomena into civil—"

"Just… no. Can you just stop for a moment?" Vemhoff sighed, walking up towards her. "I… look. I know how it feels to have an entire project destroyed like that, alright? But that doesn't mean you can just not tell Overwatch literally vital information bout eve—"

"No! Shut up!" she shouted, correcting her stance. "Shut the fuck up! This is ridiculous! You are not going to tell anyone this, do you understand? If anyone has anything to say here, it's me, do you understand?!"

"Is this… a threat?" he said, correcting his glasses.

"No. Merely a warning."

"You are going insane down here, Rivera. Do you even listen to yourself anymore?" the librarian replied after a sigh. He tried his best to keep his cool.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep those goddamned civilians safe, for better or for worse, and I don't give a single shit what your papers say about my better judgment," she said, leaving the room, closing the doors behind her with a bang.



I… I suppose I'll just say it — yesterday, during our mission out in town, we detected a worrying spike in Hume around some parts of the city. We initially thought it's just dimensional thaumaturgy as practiced by some locals, but, well, it wasn't. We saw Fae. Lots of Fae.

When my boys tried to listen to them, they weren't able to get almost anything due to the language used, except for some things they told locals. They know, Rivera. They know about the fact you and Vemhoff know they aren't malicious. And no, I wasn't eavesdropping — I simply connected facts.

They are planning something. I don't know how they know, but my best guess is that they have some intel within the library. But that doesn't matter — we need to prepare. You need to call Overwatch immediately or we will get slaughtered here. This will be the second Factory, for god's sake. We need to act, now.

Please, get over your stupid senses and call them. I beg of you.

— Raia

<Conversation start>

Rivera: You motherfucking traitor.

Interviewed: What?

Rivera: You exactly know what, you piece of shit. "Oh, I won't help you, look at me, funny lesson man!" my ass, fucker. You helped those goddamned Fae yet not us, when we are the just ones here, you—

Interviewed: <Chuckles> You entirely missed my point, then. But I am not all that surprised.

Rivera rushes towards The Keeper with an ethereal dagger in her hand, only to be quickly tackled by Micheals, who grabs her and takes her by the side.

Micheals: Rivera, what the fuck?

Rivera: Don't you see it too, you moron?! He is trying to fuck us over, giving intel to Fae—

Micheals: No. Stop. You… please, take a moment to breathe.

Rivera: I—

Micheals: Stop. Now. Take a moment. Go outside this library. Take a breath of fresh air. Smoke. Whatever. Just… calm down. Let me handle this, alright?

Rivera: I…

Short pause.

Rivera: Fuck you.

Rivera leaves the near vicinity of Micheals and the Keeper.

Micheals sighs as they walk towards the desk near which the Keeper is sitting.

Micheals: I… well, hello. Sorry for my co-worker. She—

Interviewed: I know.

Micheals: What? What do you mean? How did you ever hear that?

Interviewed: I didn't.

Micheals: Then how the—

Interviewed: Once you sit down here for so long with knowledge itself you start to… well, you start to understand it. You know what happens here and why it happens. It's hard to explain, but it's one of these things you simply understand. You begin to understand knowledge.

Micheals: Do you think that has any connections to your… situation?

Interviewed: The irony of knowing everything yet not being able to share it is something that I think fits it, yes.

Pause for ten seconds.

Micheals: Can I ask you something?

Interviewed: That's why I'm here, is it not?

Micheals: Why did you tell these Fae about what she knew? Or, rather, how did you even do it?

Interviewed: They knew where to look. They knew how to look. And they knew to understand.

Micheals: What do you exactly mean by they… "knew to understand"?

Interviewed: No one knows to understand, until they do. I didn't, when I first came here. And you don't — yet. But they do. They know that they are nothing alone. Why do you think this is a library, Raia?

Micheals: How do you— wh, what? What does that even have to do with anything?

Interviewed: It's a metaphor. They always are.

Short pause.

Interviewed: It's a library of things of heinous acts of humanity. Why do you think they are no longer here? Why do you think they were decided unworthy? And why do you think it's a library, representing those that are alone and their acts by mere books? Don't you think it's maybe because alone, you are these books—

Micheals: —but together, we are a library.

<Conversation end>

"See? I was right, the whole fucking time," Rivera slapped her hand on Vemhoff's desk, entering the office without permission. "I told all of you, yet you didn't listen." The fury in her was almost tangible in the air. "I told all of you it was malicious, and none of you listen—"

"Stop," the voice from within the papers answered. It was rough, it was tough, but most importantly — it was angry.

"W-what?" The sheer thought of someone stopping her didn't even pass her mind. When met with brutal reality, she stepped back a little.

"I said — stop. Now." The voice arose from the books, walking towards the intruder. "We have bigger things to worry about."

"What? What the hell do you mean?" she said, wiping the dust she collected in the office from her clothes away.

"I… I got another report. MacCarthy's team disappeared from the city," he sighed. "We found the bodies, Hannah. They were beyond recognition."

"What? Who? Where?"

As the Director tried walking forward, the doors to the room slammed open, revealing Micheals, who was visibly exhausted.

"I got— w… wha— what the…?" they said, trying to catch their breath. "I got so—something, I…"

"No. Stop," Vemhoff replied, this time angrier than before. "I don't care, okay? There is an attack incoming, do you understand?"

"W… what?" Raia said, calming down a little. "What attack? Where, when?"

"Intelligence reports all over Częstochowa. Hundreds of Fae coming from multiple pocket dimension entries. They call themselves "Triumviraté"' Fae for "we will prevail." Esterberg's Fae terrorists." Vemhoff sighed. "At least we got their locations."

"Oh Jesus Christ." The Director's mind was racing. "How many days do we have left?"

"The raid starts tomorrow, Han."


To all Provisional Site-120 personnel,

The following is an official notice of an incoming attack from local Fae militias due to the currently-ongoing post-1911 complications. It planned to be executed on Provisional Site-120 within the next 24 hours.

We do not know what will happen, how it will happen, or when it will happen. We can only speculate why or how they will attack. But we need to be ready.

All personnel are now required to immediately report themselves to the Site's security chief for a briefing. There, you will all receive exact info and equipment required to defend yourself to the best of your means. Will that be enough, I cannot say.

What I however can say is that I fully believe in all of you, and your ability to come together — if years of work at the Foundation taught me anything, it's that you all have a special ability to come together when needed. For years, I thought I couldn't see any more wonders created by people to protect humanity, but every time, I was proven wrong. And this time will be no different.

If anyone has any more questions, I will be in my office at the bottom of PL-X0R38/0124 to answer them all day. I will not sleep anyways, so feel free to come in.

— Hannah Rivera, Director of Provisional Site-120

She was tired. She was tired and anxious, but beyond anything, she was angry. She was angry at herself, her co-workers, her current situation, and everything else that had led to where she was now. She was furious, frustrated, but most importantly, she was afraid.

For the first time in her three decades of work here, she was afraid. She was afraid because deep down, she knew it was her fault. She knew that if she had done better, none of this would have had to happen.

But she couldn't change the past, no matter how hard she tried.

"Is everything ready?" she said, entering into the main hall, leading from the entry to the library. The room was filled with numerous people holding numerous weaponry, all ready. They were all different, from identities, personalities, heights, and looks to even professions, but right now, they were identical — all of them were nothing more than the weapons they made up. Sure, it was an awful look for all of them, but she had to accept it, as all leaders had. That's what needed to be done.

"They are," the voice from behind her said. As the Director turned, the voice gained a face. Raia Micheals' eyes were tired, but they didn't show any sign of tiredness themselves — their mind was still going as quickly as possible, be it limited by the fact their eyes didn't want to cooperate. "They've been here since you put the announcement on. Guess we weren't the only ones that couldn't sleep, eh?"

"We weren't," she sighed. "Do we have any new reports on their location?"

Raia opened their clipboard up. "Latest intelligence reports from an hour ago show that the battalion is around two hundred entities large and is approximately four kilometers away. Not a good look."

"Does Overwatch know?" she answered. "As in — did the messages get sent properly?"

"I… yes, yes they were."

"No answers?"

"No answers."

She sighed.

"I… I'll get this sorted with," she said, turning towards the group of people gathered before them. "You and Vemhoff get to the bunker down above. We can't risk losing any of you."

"And you?"

"Well, I need to be here, don't I? Someone has to motivate them, and if not the goddamned Site Director, then who will do the job?"

"I guess you're right," Micheals said, heading towards the tunnel reading into the on-Site bunker. "I… it was a pleasure, Han."

As the second-in-command left the room, Hannah Rivera was once again alone. Alone amongst over forty people. Ironic.

But that didn't matter now.

"So, everyone here," she said, standing atop the elevated area of the room. "Everyone here knows what's up already, I hope. And, well, everyone knows how shit the situation is."

As the tens of eyes present within the room turned towards the voice above them, they suddenly stopped being only eyes, turning to faces. Faces with families, faces with jobs, faces with personalities. As she looked upon them, she realized how hopeless the situation was, but more importantly — how important it was they succeed.

"Today will be hard. I won't say it won't be. Today might even be the hardest any of you will ever have to go through," she said, walking amongst the people gathered around her. "But that doesn't mean we won't get through this. Why?"

She paused for a second.

"Because we have to. If we fail today, all work we put towards getting here will be lost," she continued. "And I will not let some forest freaks destroy my squad."

The silence in the room was almost unbearable.

"You are like family to me, I won't lie. I couldn't stand to watch any of you get hurt. And I won't. Do you know why?" she looked at all of them. "Because together, we can do this. And together, we will do this."

"Now, let's put them back where they came from, shall we?"

Using some of the tricks described in the books, we were able to recreate parts of the event so that I and Vemhoff could properly transcribe it. I… I think it will be best if I just attach the transcript of the recreation below.

As this part of the event begins, the vision of humanoids and items representing the ones during the event manifest. Despite them being transparent, most features are visible, with almost every single individual being identifiable.

As the figures enter the room they appear to be trembling. Despite this, they hold numerous weaponry in their hands, apparently attempting to attack something located within the distance behind the bookshelves, at the same time dodging incoming attacks. Among the survivors, Director Rivera can be seen. She is holding a rifle, actively firing it at something in the distance. She does not react.

Rivera: <Hiding behind a bookshelf> Is everyone here?!

Person 1: N— <Loud explosion, inaudible> except He… <Shots, incoherent>!

Rivera: Goddamnit.

Rivera attempts to load the gun, which locks up with a bullet. As she removes it from inside the weapon, she realizes she is out of ammo.

Rivera: Is there a way out?!

Person 2: I… I don't think, I… the exit's closed, and— <Loud crash>

Rivera: <Sighs> I… eh. I don't have a choice here, do I?

Rivera looks at her companions, grimaces, and looks at her rifle. She removes a vial filled with a silver-like liquid from her pocket and spills the insides on the weapon, creating a small amount of smoke coming from within the gun. Despite this, the weapon doesn't seem to be damaged in any way. She loads it up, despite not having any ammo left. The gun starts to flicker, and Rivera smiles.

She blinks towards the rest of her team, and rushes in from behind one of the bookshelves into the open area. As she does so, she throws a can of an unknown gas, which explodes with silver smoke.

Rivera: Get here, you forest motherfuckers! You so want us, don't you?!

The enemy firing stops for a moment as she starts to attack. Despite being at an advantage, upon noticing the silver colors of the bullets, the Fae start to panic, wildly misfiring. Rivera uses one of the fallen bookshelves as cover, attempting to focus all of the enemies on her.

Rivera: Well, come here and get some!

As the fighting focuses entirely on her cover, she glances at the rest of the team.

Rivera: Run.

The Director's firing continues as the rest of the team leaves. Rivera cannot be seen any more, the memory cuts.

To everyone who lost someone that day — I'm sorry. I'm sorry as both a higher-up and a friend, because both of these positions feel like too much to handle right now. I'm sorry to everyone who had to look at that slaughter. They won't be forgotten, no one will. I will personally make sure they won't.

I'm sorry we couldn't have done more.

<Conversation start>

Micheals: I… do you have a moment?

The Keeper: What?

Micheals: I… I wanted to talk to you about something.

The Keeper: What… thing?

Micheals: Why? Why did they do this?

Micheals looks around the half-damaged library, sighing in the process.

The Keeper: I… I don't know how to answer that.

Micheals: Then why did you tell them we're here? Why? Just… why?

Micheals looks down at the table, visibly angry and sad. They pause for a moment.

The Keeper: They seemed to understand, that… I… after all their race went through, I thought they… I… I… they didn't, did they?

Micheals: What?

The Keeper: They didn't understand, did they?

Micheals sighs.

Micheals: No. They didn't.

The Keeper: But… I don't understand— I mean, they were together, were they not? They… they banded together to do this, giving up their differences to be… I… I don't understand, I…

Micheals: They… they never even had any good intentions, did they? I mean, if their entire intention was to attack someone, was it even understanding cooperation?

The Keeper: I… I mean, they were together, so does that—

The Keeper stands up, looking around the library. The bookshelves within its vicinity are visibly destroyed from the damage done to them during the attack, though not enough to break them down entirely. In the background, a temporary hospital can be seen. Within it, numerous Provisional Site-120 personnel are stationed, with only a few of them being actively helped by medical staff. Despite this, two non-moving bodies are being transported out of the area on stretchers. Their faces are covered.

As the entity tries to look away, it steps into plant-like blood staining the floor. Despite no body being present, the liquid can be seen covering numerous other areas, with crude ethereal weapons and human blood being present around each pool. Despite this, in the distance, a container filled with two unknown, humanoid bodies can be seen. Neither are moving.

The Keeper: I don't… I just… but they understood, I… they were together, they understood, I…

The Keeper stops for half a minute.

The Keeper: I… I think I need a moment to breathe.

<Conversation end>

Official Incident Report Log

PL-X0R38/0124 / 01/03/1916

Damage Done: The following is a list of all damage done to Provisional Site-120 during the 28/02/1916 Triumviraté attack.

Action Casualities Severity
The loss of supplies present at Provisional Site-120 at the time of the attack N/A Moderate
The destruction of approximately 200 books found within PL-X0R38/0124 as well as their translated versions 2 Moderate
The destruction of the entry into PL-X0R38/0124 N/A Minor
The destruction of 5% of PL-X0R38/0124's left wing 3 Moderate
The loss of 35% of Hannah Rivera's plans regarding Site-120 N/A Moderate
The loss of Director Rivera 1 Severe
The death of personnel during the attack itself 24 Severe

Additional Information: Despite the concerning amount of damage done to the Foundation's property as well as the anomaly contained by it, the main objective of the mission initially sent into Poland that discovered PL-X0R38/0124 (currently pending reclassifications to meet the new SCP formula) has been successful. The day before the attack, all entries into the pocket dimension housing the Free Port of Esterberg were discovered. Despite such routes changing rather frequently, the Foundation has been able to get the exact dimensional coordinates of the previously mentioned dimension, allowing for further access and research into this area. This has been a giant breakthrough, which will potentially allow for further contact.

— Raia Micheals


To Overwatch Command,

With the unfortunate recent events, I am sorry to say that I would like to formally request approval for the official creation of Site-120 in the place of Provisional Site-120 once again. I firmly believe this event confirmed everything Hannah Rivera stood by, showing us that Esterberg is not something we can just deal with once and never again. We have found evidence of its multi-centurial influence over local civilians as well as numerous anomalies created in the process, which simply cannot be ignored. The need for Site-120 is clear to anyone who has read our recent reports.

I am of course aware of the problem regarding PL-X0R38/0124 and its most likely constant need of surveillance — sadly, a system of instantaneous transport between a potential Site-120 and PL-X0R38/0124 would be needed to maintain that need well, which would take up unforseeable amounts of recourses to dig through the local terrain and establish a proper transport method in between. I do not know of any solution to it, but I trust in the Council’s abilities to overcome problems.

Please forward any further problems or requirements directly to me, I would be more than happy to answer or adhere to them.

— Raia Micheals, newly appointed Director of Provisional Site-120


I think I might have an idea how to deal with that.

— Maria Jones, the Secretary of the O5 Council


The following file is the current description of SCP-5292 and all of its sub-anomalies — all prior ones are severely outdated, with fabricated prose1 being present for personnel reading ease. They are kept under this designation solely for the entire context of Site-120's establishment and the story surrounding it, as per the Director Council's request.

— James Moore, Site-120's General RAISA Chairman

Item#: 5292
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


Numerous SCP-5292-1 instances as seen in the Research Team's workspace.

Assigned Site Site Director Research Head Assigned Task Force
Site-120 Site-120 Director Council Alistair Vemhoff N/A

Special Containment Procedures: As all Foundation personnel assigned to Site-120 are automatically aware of SCP-5292 and the fact Site-120 has been built around it, it has been classified as a Yesod2 object and no active containment is necessary.

All Site-120 personnel are allowed and encouraged to enter SCP-5292 during their free time. Although all sections of it are publically available to all personnel, no-one entering should disturb the SCP-5292-1 Research Team.

Description: SCP-5292 is a large, non-Euclidean location currently occupying the entirety of the third floor and integrated into the structure of the SCP Foundation EUPLCA-Site-120. Although exterior measurements suggest it only occupies 100 x 100 x 20 m of space, interior ones say that the true size of the location reaches 200 x 200 x 100 m in size.

The entirety of this area is occupied by an enormous library, spread over five different levels and filled with anomalous lighting,3 which ensures the area is perpetually lit despite a total lack of any apparent source. On each of the levels, numerous shelves containing approximately 3 000 000 books total can be found.

SCP-5292-1 refers to the books present within SCP-5292. Although most of them are written in previously unknown languages, many contain pictorial representations of phenomena, objects, and entities previously unknown to the Foundation. A few of such however are written in languages present on Earth. Due to this, a special research team, currently led by Alistair Vemhoff, a linguist and an occultist, is currently attempting to translate all texts found within such to potentially gain further insight into the anomalous world. These translations are approximated to take another 80 years to complete.

SCP-5292-2 is an ethereal, humanoid entity confined to the space SCP-5292 occupies. It bears the appearance of an elderly, hooded human of European descent. Although it claims to be "David, brother to Noe," as the only records confirming this claim exist as material extracted from SCP-5292, this remains unconfirmed. Due to its state, the entity is unable to affect any physical item other than SCP-5292-1 instances — despite this however, it converses with personnel with relative ease.

Material analysis suggests that SCP-5292 and all of its sub-anomalies are approximately 20 million years old — though it is currently believed to be impossible for human civilization to exist within said time period, a few of the translated SCP-5292-1 instances seem to confirm SCP-5292-2's claim about the original creators of the library being a human society seemingly existing prior to the biblical flood. Whether such an event (or a similar one in nature) ever happened currently remains unknown.

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