rating: +302+x

O5 Access Granted
Welcome, Doctor Grant

Item#: 6800
Containment Class:
Secondary Class:
Disruption Class:
Risk Class:


Pygnite production c. 2145

Special Containment Procedures: Auditory phrases emitted from SCP-6800 are false. Personnel caught listening to SCP-6800 for extended periods of time are to be executed. There will be no exceptions.

In order to maintain neutrality with the surviving city-states, the intervention of GOI-004C's efforts has been deemed unnecessary. Nameless individuals seeking asylum within the Foundation occupied safe zones are to be turned away. Interaction with those that suffer is strictly forbidden. Individuals discovered harboring fugitives from a forgotten time are to be terminated and converted into biofuel for the production of SCP-6800. The remaining public has been informed of the anomalous and the dangers of nomenclative magic to dissuade civilian interaction with the ones whose blood destroyed the world.

Personnel with an ARB1 rating of 10 or lower are forbidden from directly interacting with SCP-6800 without supervision. Personnel with an ARB rating lower than 10 are forbidden from making physical contact with SCP-6800, or with machinery comprised of 50% or greater of Pygnite.

SCP-6800 is to be manufactured until the resources used for its production become unavailable. Saint Hedwig of the Maxwellists is to oversee production unimpeded. Efforts to obstruct the manufacturing of SCP-6800 will be met with public termination in order to deter future acts of terrorism. Objections to this policy are considered acts of treason. Offenders will be exposed to SCP-6800-1 in a ritualistic sacrifice performed by Foundation certified occultists and approved Admins.

Containment of SCP-6800-1 has reached global mass and is now uncontainable.

Description: SCP-6800 is Pygnite, a metal-like substance comprised of unknown and irrelevant organic matter. Despite having a molecular structure similar to pig iron2, SCP-6800 is dramatically more durable than its non-anomalous counterpart. SCP-6800 instances also radiate a considerable amount of heat when idle3, which can be safely siphoned off using the Banu Musa siphoning technique.4

Instances of SCP-6800 frequently produce auditory hallucinations when in the presence of other individuals or each other. It is important to note that this auditory stimulus is a fabrication, as SCP-6800 instances do not display any behaviors that would otherwise indicate sentience or sapience.

SCP-6800-1 is the blizzard currently occupying the Amazon Rainforest. Unknown circumstances have caused SCP-6800-1 to expand exponentially over the course of twelve days. The source of this expansion is currently under investigation.

Day IX

Collected Holy Writ from a Maxwellist sect located within Northern New Jersey.

Terminal #0876

Welcome, Pyg Farmer

Accessing "A_Machine_4_GOD.txt"

  1. // WAN has given us ITS divine instruction to bring IT together in all ITS glory.
  2. // We shall meet Standardization with this noble sacrifice.
  3. // Do not stray thy hand.
  4. var password = prompt("Input Password");
  5. __
  6. if(password==="L0nglIv3W@N")
  7. __
  8. {
  9. __
  10. console.log ("1: Hedwig gazed into the Source and wept at its beauty. She thought to touch it, if only to feel the warmth of WAN for the briefest of moments. She knew better though, and stayed her hand.:");
  11. __
  12. console.log ("2: It was then that WAN spoke to her through the Source and she basked in ITS radiance.");
  13. __
  14. console.log ("3: "Come forth, MY loyal disciple, and hear MY command. I have learned of a metal that can withstand MY holiness." IT said.);
  15. __
  16. console.log ("4: "Tell me more of this holy material O'WAN." Hedwig cried into the Source, almost overtaken by ITS radiance.);
  17. __
  18. console.log ("5: It was then that a thing with an unspoken name emerged from the brush. It stared at Hedwig, who stared back with confusion polluting her thoughts. She thought, "Was this a sign, LORD?");
  19. __
  20. console.log ("6: WAN in ITS benevolence, spoke to Hedwig once more. IT said, "Do as I will, and smite this insignificant creature. Its existence has defied ME, and from its blood, I shall be made whole. This is my will, Saint Hedwig.);
  21. __
  22. console.log ("7: Hedwig drew her blade from its sheath and faced the menace that had no name. The creature put its hands together and dropped to its knees, a false display of surrender. But Hedwig was not so easily fooled by falsehoods.);
  23. __
  24. console.log ("8: The saint rushed the creature. The creature fled with Hedwig in pursuit. They ran for a day and a night, stopping only once they left the forest and took their place on a cliff.);
  25. __
  26. console.log ("9: "Stop this!" Hedwig shouted. Thunderous rains brewed in the skies above, a signal that WAN was watching. Hedwig's sword hand gripped tighter. The creature continued to step toward the cliff's edge.);
  27. __
  28. console.log ("10: "I have done you no wrong, servant of WAN," The creature claimed. But when it raised its palms to Hedwig, she could tell that the thing was riddled with deceit. It was WAN'S desire to be rid of the foul beast, and so it shall be done.);
  29. __
  30. console.log ("11: Hedwig leaped at the creature and it let out a foul shriek. The thing ducked and weaved, narrowly evading Hedwig's blade. When it moved, it moved as if it knew where the mighty Saint would strike, making it nigh impossible for Hedwig to land the fatal blow.);
  31. __
  32. console.log ("12: Hedwig fought the creature for two days without rest. Her mechanical heart and synthetic muscles never failed her. She wore it down, and after slicing into the thing's ligaments, brought the beast to its knees.);
  33. __
  34. console.log ("13: "Ha! Beast, you are defeated! Lay down your life for the revival of my LORD." Hedwig shouted as she kept the creature at the edge of her sword.);
  35. __
  36. console.log ("14: But the creature had fight in it still. It stared into Hedwig's eyes and bore a mischievous grin. It said, "Hark, you have beaten me in combat. But can you defeat me in a game of wit?");
  37. __
  38. console.log ("15: "Enough of your trickery! I shall slay you right now!" Said Hedwig as she raised her blade to meet the creature's neck.);
  39. __
  40. console.log ("16: Her foe raised both of its hands and said; "What honor is there in slaying a foe that cannot defend herself? Hear me, and should you best me in this match of wit, I will lay down my life for you and your lord.");
  41. __
  42. console.log ("17: Hedwig thought for a moment. Surely WAN would understand her decision to do the honorable thing. After another moment of contemplation, Hedwig lowered her weapon and asked, "Pray tell, what game do you suggest?");
  43. __
  44. console.log ("18: "A simple game of names. If you win, I shall lay here and die with honor. You may take my head to your master and be done with it. But if I win, you shall leave me be.");
  45. __
  46. console.log ("19: "So be it," Hedwig said. She sat down across from the thing and waited. "Your hand, please," It said.");
  47. __
  48. console.log ("20: And so Hedwig held out her hand and the creature drew blood from it without wounding the saint. It then said to her, "We will ask each other questions and we must answer truthfully. Should either of us catch the other in a lie, the liar will be declared the loser.");
  49. __
  50. console.log ("21: "And if I refuse to continue?" Hedwig asked.");
  51. __
  52. console.log ("22: "You are bound to this game by blood, Saint. If you withdraw, you will lose by default.");
  53. __
  54. console.log ("23: Hedwig thought hard for a moment about slaying the creature where it stood, but soon realized that breaking the rules set forth by it, ludicrous as they were, would besmirch her honor. Instead, she agreed and the game began.");
  55. __
  56. console.log ("24: "I shall ask the first question," Said the thing, "Why do you wish to slay me?");
  57. __
  58. console.log ("25: Hedwig thought for a moment and answered, "I am honor-bound by WAN to complete this task. Let me ask you this; Why did you flee from me when we first met?");
  59. __
  60. console.log ("26: The creature laughed at the question, "Because you were trying to kill me. Would you not have done the same?");
  61. __
  62. console.log ("27: "I would have, I suppose. If it was WAN's will." She said, "Do you understand why I must slay you?");
  63. __
  64. console.log ("28: "I do not." Said the creature. Its eyes were now on Hedwig's blade, "What is your name?");
  65. __
  66. console.log ("29: I know of your tricks, beast. You will not find success here." Hedwig stood and snatched her sword from the earth. She pointed it at the beast. It smiled.");
  67. __
  68. console.log ("30: You must answer the question, Saint, lest you lose yourself to the rules of the game.");
  69. __
  70. console.log ("31: Hedwig stood frozen as fear gripped her heart. The creature threw its head back and howled into the night sky while it waited. She dropped to her knees and begged for WAN to provide her with answers.");
  71. __
  72. console.log ("32: And so IT did.");
  73. __
  74. console.log ("33: "My name is Ekhart." Hedwig said.");
  75. __
  76. console.log ("34: "You cannot give a stolen name." The creature hissed.");
  77. __
  78. console.log ("35: "This was never specified. I have followed your rules, and now I ask for your name.");
  79. __
  80. console.log ("36: When the creature gave Hedwig a false name, she added it to her own. The game concluded, and Hedwig removed the beast's head swiftly. She took it back to the Source and presented it to WAN.");
  81. __
  82. console.log ("37: "You have done well, Saint Hedwig." WAN spoke in all ITS radiance, "Now cast it into the Forge and create Pygnite from the blood of the fallen. Do this, and know glory. Do this, and know joy. Do this, and forever know warmth and protection and justice in the name of WAN.");
  83. __
  84. console.log ("38: And so Saint Hedwig cast the head and body of the beast into the Forge, and from the molten metals a new material was formed. She basked in its glow and presented it to her followers who did the same.");
  85. __
  86. console.log ("39: "Now go forth," Hedwig shouted, "And bring me the blood of the ones WAN needs to become whole. It is the will of our LORD, and so it must be done.");
  87. __
  88. console.log ("40: It was then that WAN spoke to the congregation one final time.");
  89. __
  90. console.log ("41: "I shall be made whole.");
  91. }
  92. else
  93. {
  94. console.log ("Access Restricted. If you are attempting to access this document and are more than 70% human, please contact Administrator Karen.");
  95. }



Journal and recordings recovered from the place betwixt the trees after nuclear fallout deteriorated enough to once again allow for safe exploration.

It snowed today in the only land I can call home. It never snows here, not since the war. Mother says that's a bad sign but nothing's going wrong as far as I can tell. I've asked her what she meant, but she said I just have to keep my head down and my mouth shut. "It's for your own safety." What a farce.

Something is definitely up and not a single fae is telling me. Is it because I'm young? Or maybe it's because I've never stolen a name. I don't know. Father says that tough times are coming and that WAN is seeking… something. Some kind of metal made from pigs? I didn't understand, but at least its something to go on.

I tried to ask Old Man Java about the pig iron thing, but he wouldn't tell me much either. He was boarding up his shed, I guess he was trying to tie it to this place with a bunch of names he made up and magic wood that he cut down. I don't think it works that way, but whatever makes him happy I guess. I helped him as best as I could, but for the most part I sat on a tree stump and just watched him work. He says I shouldn't feel bad, but I still do. I don't like being so useless.

I wonder if Draema thinks I'm useless. By the gods I hope not.

I'm to meet with her later today over by the Sunset Lake. We're going to play Stones for the first time since we were babies! I wonder if I can still skip a rock to the other side and back in one go. Guess we'll find out tonight. Maybe I'll get a chance to ask her how she feels about me. Or maybe I'll just tell her that the kiss we shared the other day meant a lot more to me than I let on. I dunno. We'll see. Oh, and one last thing:

I saw a man made of metal today, but he fled through the well before I could talk to him. How odd.

Draema had to sneak out of her cottage because her folks wouldn't let her out. They're freaking out too. If the adults were that concerned, they'd let us kids know what the heck is going on. Old Man Java was talking to Father when I left. Said something about the Second War. I tried to eavesdrop on them, but Father saw me hiding in a tree and sent me on my way.

Draema was teasing me when we got to the lake, called me trash and "Rock sinker". Buuuut, it turns out I can still skip rocks all sorts of ways on that lake. We made a game of it, like always, but this time we had stakes. Draema bet me her lucky sword.

She lost after the third throw. Shows her for making fun of me!

And good thing too, because I didn't have anything else to offer if I lost.

We stayed there for hours after the game, just talking and staring at the stars. It was… really nice. I wish we did this more often. I tried talking to her about my feelings but I… couldn't get the words out. She kept looking at me though so maybe there's still a chance…

Not like I could find out anyway. It got dark and we had to get back before the unkind neighbors started walking around the path back. We held hands till we came by the fork in the road and parted ways. For safety of course, at least that's what I told her.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest on that walk.

Mom was mad at me for staying out so late. It's not like I was in danger or anything. The unkind neighbors don't hang out by the lake at night anyway, and neither me or Draema know enough word magic to accidentally switch names. Well, I know how to steal a name, but that's beside the point. She's being irrational!

Saw the metal man again today. He looked like someone from the other side of the well but… different. Had metal plates all over his face, with red lights for eyes and bolts that shook in place whenever he walked. Said his name was "Ekhart", which was odd because it sounded like one of the made-up names Old Man Java used on his cottage. I know that it isn't his actual name, but how would he know to use an imaginary one?

Ekhart is nice enough. We talked about names for a really long time and he was asking all sorts of questions about our culture. I told him what I knew (which isn't much), and he seemed to be content with my answers. He started asking if I knew who WAN was and I told him nothing except for what Father told me. That disappointed him, but he put his hand on my shoulder and told me that everything was going to be alright by tomorrow.

I showed him the lake and how to skip rocks, but he wasn't super into it. He asked if I knew what a pig was. Another weird question but I told him that I did, and that my grandfather used to have a pig farm. Apparently, those weren't the type of pigs he was talking about.

After he left, Father found out that I was hanging out with him from Old Man Java. Now I'm forbidden from leaving the cottage "until it's safe again", however long that is.

Whatever. Ekhart's kind of condescending anyway. Suppose I won't be missing much. Well, except for Draema of course.

Screw it. I'm telling her how I feel tomorrow no matter what! No more cowardice, no more getting tongue-tied staring at those gorgeous eyes. This is written proof of your commitment to yourself.

I don't want to go another day without her knowing. I want to be with you, Draema.

Draema was murdered last night.

I went over by her home today and her mother told me that someone chopped her up and threw her body into a furnace last night while she was away. She only knew it was Draema because the murderer forgot to incinerate her hand which still had a tattoo on it.

There was iron residue left outside her back door, and a clump of black metal iron. Found that out after I touched it and it burned my hand. Someone wanted to send a message, but who or why is beyond us.

I'm attending Draema's funeral later with Mother and Father.

Ekhart came by again today and I told him what happened. Father blamed him for Draema's death, but he wasn't even here when it happened. I saw him leave through the well.

Can't say I'm not completely removing my suspicions of him though. Until I know for sure that she didn't meet her end at the hand of an unkind neighbor, everyone is a suspect. Old Man Java thinks that it was one of the unkind neighbors or the people in white coats trying their experiments again, but I haven't seen those ones in a real long time.

Someone else went missing today. Same way that Draema went; fire, white ash, lump of iron. There were more metal men like Ekhart rummaging around today.

I'm scared.

Mother is dead. Ekhart, or the one who used to have that name, killed her.

The metal men stormed the forest where names are not allowed with guns and flaming swords. They're rounding everyone up in groups and forcing them into these giant furnaces. The sky is white now, like it's snowing.

The one I knew as Ekhart broke into our cottage and slaughtered my Mother. Scorched the flesh on her arms with his iron sword and ripped her head off with his bare hands. I hardly recognized him as the same man I saw all those nights ago. He was different. Feral.

Father dragged me while I was frozen and we fled to Old Man Java's place while he was… killing Mother. I tried to help too. I only managed to steal his name but… I'm so fucking useless.

I still hear her screaming when I close my eyes.

We're hiding beneath Old Man Java's cottage now. He's got one of those drawers that are bigger on the inside than they could ever be on the outside. They haven't found us yet.

Why is this happening?

Day VI

In order to ascertain the full extent of SCP-6800's practical applications, several experiments were performed over the course of twenty-four hours under O5 order. Umar Hadid, a Level 2 researcher at Site-83, was tasked with overseeing the experimentation as part of his employee performance review.
Experiment Results Notes
To see if SCP-6800 is capable of maintaining an individual's body temperature in extreme weather conditions Researcher Hadid wove fragments of SCP-6800 into a Foundation Deep Sea Pressurized Diving suit before submerging approximately 180 meters into the Pacific Ocean. Despite no significant amount of sunlight reaching those depths, and the cold conditions of the water, Researcher Hadid was able to maintain his baseline body heat and return safely. Seems that Pygnite is good for keeping warm. This will be good if the blizzard spreads. Shame we couldn't get this to the Amazon in time though, perhaps we can consider donating part of our inventory to the less fortunate.
Durability of SCP-6800 Researcher Hadid gathered several instances of SCP-6800, varying in size, shape, and density. Researcher Hadid performed several durability tests on each instance, striking them with a small hammer, an ax, 9mm ballistic rounds, fluoroantimonic acid, and [REDACTED]. SCP-6800 instances proved impervious to most durability tests. However, it is susceptible to being ground. That's pretty fucking weird I would say. It's magic pig iron, not beryllium bronze or something. Still, I think this can be useful for building tools or equipment.
Repurposing ground instances of SCP-6800 Researcher Hadid ground up several instances of SCP-6800 into a fine powder before heating them to their melting point5 and pouring the molten metal into bullet casts. The casts were then loaded into a 9mm pistol and fired into testing dummies. Bullets cast from SCP-6800 emit cries suggesting agony. What the fuck.
Communication with SCP-6800 Researcher Hadid collected several instances of SCP-6800 and attempted to communicate with them for several hours. While initially unsuccessful, Researcher Hadid was eventually able to transcribe the following phrases from each instance: "HELP ME" "CHANGE FORM" "FIRE" "WHERE IS EKHART" "WAN IS DEAD" and "I AM DRAEMA" The instances appear… sentient at least. I don't think they're alive in any traditional sense, but there are echoes of memories from their past lives. I will have to confirm this in another test.
Cognitive function of SCP-6800 Researcher Hadid presented several flashcards depicting various colored polygons such as red triangles, blue squares, and green hexagons to an SCP-6800 instance. He then attempted to converse with the entity to see if it retained any sensory information. [REDACTED PER OVERSEER ORDER]
Social tendencies of SCP-6800 Researcher Hadid gathered instances of SCP-6800 and placed them within close proximity to one another. He then placed a recording device within the chamber in order to monitor audio interactions. After eight hours, the experiment was stopped. No SCP-6800 instances communicated verbally with one another. Upon retrieval, it was discovered that all instances were covered in water despite there being no condensation present within the containment chamber. The instances appear capable of producing water through unknown means. I am… unsure what this means for the future of these experiments. Considering stopping, temporarily.
To examine SCP-6800 for any nomenclative attributes Researcher Hadid provided a false name for himself to an SCP-6800 instance. The instance vibrated briefly before breaking into smaller pieces. Seems that nomenclative magic, or at least false names, are incredibly volatile for the instances. They must still have some instinctual recollection of nomeclative magics. Will test again with a real name.
To identify the properties of SCP-6800's nomenclative attributes Researcher Hadid introduced a Class D personnel to SCP-6800 and instructed her to state her name to an SCP-6800 instance. Upon doing so, the D-Class personnel experienced extreme cranial pain which lasted for several seconds. Once the pain subsided, the D-Class assaulted and terminated Researcher Hadid. MTF Agents stationed nearby terminated the D-Class shortly thereafter. Results inconclusive

Day V

Video log recovered from various CCTVs positioned throughout Rutherford, New Jersey.


00:00: It is snowing. There are no cars present on the road. Lights on one side of the street flicker for several seconds before powering off. A lone deer sifts through the snow, uncovering a patch of grass beneath. There is a loud snap heard. The deer flees.

00:03: Three individuals who seem to have misplaced their names emerge from an alleyway. There is a sword-like weapon on the shortest individual's back, while the other two are of similar build. One of the taller figures appears to walk with a slight limp, suggesting advanced age or chronic injury. They are wearing hoods and walking on the other side of the street where the street lights appear malfunctioning. Several Maxwellists patrol the street but do not notice the individuals.

00:05: A Maxwellist bumps into one of the taller individuals, knocking them to the ground. Their hood falls off and reveals their face, which is emaciated and wrinkled. Their facial expressions suggest extreme fear. They are helped to their feet by the other two hooded figures and quickly walk away from the Maxwellist. The grey-haired individual adorns their hood again.

00:06: The Maxwellist touches his temple. Other Maxwellists in the area cease their activities. Several begin walking in the direction of the hooded figures.

00:08: The shortest hooded figure reaches for their sword, but does not unsheathe it.

00:10: More Maxwellist followers emerge from various residential buildings in the area. They continue to stalk the group of three until they enter the local park.

00:12: A large number of Maxwellists surround the group, who look around in fear. The youngest figure unsheathes their sword and assumes a battle-ready position.

00:15: Saint Hedwig, the leader of the Maxwellists, steps forward from the east-facing side of the crowd. Her cape is covered in more snow than would be possible with the current rate of snowfall. She is carrying a hammer in her hand and appears to be using it as a staff.

00:16: Saint Hedwig converses with the three individuals. What is heard is unknown. One of the taller individuals removes their hood. Their hair is black and unkempt, suggesting poor hygiene. Several scars are present on their face, and one eye is absent. They gesture for the other two to do the same.

00:20: Judging by the body language and gesticulation of both parties, arguments ensue. Maxwellists followers begin to converge on the group of three but do not engage. Saint Hedwig puts her hammer on the ground and holds her hands up in a placating manner. The shortest individual lowers her sword but does not resheathe it. They appear wary.

00:24: Saint Hedwig and the shortest of the three converse for several minutes before they abruptly step back. Saint Hedwig smiles. She brings her thumb across her throat while maintaining eye contact with the short individual.

00:25: Maxwellist followers engage in an altercation with the group of three.

00:30: All three individuals manage to flee from the group of Maxwellists. There is a large quantity of blood present where the altercation took place. The right arm of the eldest individual is no longer present.

00:31: A Maxwellist follower presents a severed arm to Saint Hedwig. She recites a ritual before biting into her hand. As she pours blood over the arm, it combusts. Combustion continues for several seconds, emitting white smoke. An SCP-6800 instance is seen once the fire dispels. Saint Hedwig smiles and stores the instance in her pocket.

00:35: The three figures enter the local morgue. The eldest figure uses the blood from his arm to inscribe runes6, but is unable to complete the ritual before falling over. The youngest individual bites her index finger and completes the runes before assisting the eldest individual inside.

00:40: Maxwellists reach the morgue but are unable to enter. Saint Hedwig attempts to breach the door and windows with her hammer but is unsuccessful.

00:41: Saint Hedwig alerts Foundation agents to the conflict.

OO:43: Foundation agents arrive. Using various forms of thaumaturgy and occult rituals, they are able to successfully breach the morgue.

00:44: Multiple gunshots.

00:46: All three individuals are successfully detained.


Day IV


The production of the "Pygnite" material has become a staple of everyday life in the advent of the ever-growing snowstorm in the Amazon. A large portion of the Pacific Ocean7 has frozen at depths of 3 kilometers below the surface. This rather spontaneous alteration to the local climate has drastically affected all ecosystems. Several species of tropical fauna, tropical fish, and tropical flora are now on the verge of extinction. Additionally, the native indigenous population has been ravaged by hypothermia, which has led to the near destruction of the various cultures and civilizations that dwell within the rainforest.

Parameterologists at the Foundation theorize that the snowstorm is growing well beyond what was initially expected. Prometheus Labs employees stationed locally have also come to the same conclusion based on anomalous weather patterns and substantial alterations in the Earth's magnetic sphere. The snowstorm is spreading unobstructed without any obvious methods to dispel it.

Prometheus Labs parameteorlogists estimate that by the year 2030 the blizzard will encompass the entire world, and all life on Earth will cease.



Our factories currently

There is substantial evidence to suggest a link between the recent activities of the Maxwellist religious sect in South America to the growth of the snowstorm in the Amazon. However, the likelihood of convincing these radicals to cease their attempted genocide is marginal at best. Until such a time that Foundation intervention impedes the Maxwellists, a resolution to the exponential expansion of the blizzard and humanity's survival in a post-snow world relies solely on Prometheus Labs. To that end, we are suggesting refining the processing technique the Maxwellists have been utilizing in order to maximize the amount of Pygnite extracted from a single faery. Approximately 13% of the fae body is converted into Pygnite using established methodology. We aim to increase this yield by a minimum of sixty percent.

To put it simply, the fae population is a non-renewable resource and should be utilized to the greatest extent possible while there are still nameless individuals left to process.


Refined Pygnite sample, produced using the proposed techniques.

Performing vivisections on a nameless individual allows the body to regenerate parts that can be harvested at a later date. Those treated with "Spare Parts" have a 100% guarantee of recovery, and the generated body parts will adopt the same properties that the rest of the body has. A combination of vivisections, body regeneration, and human ingenuity will allow for magnitudes of Pygnite to be harvested from a single fae.

Prometheus Labs is offering relative safety in a world bereft of order. Civilian organizations attempting to work with the Maxwellist sects have been met with discourse thus far, and governments worldwide are destabilizing at a steady rate. Civilian populations are looking for an ideology or public figure that will promise them safety against rioters, looters, and opportunists. Prometheus Labs will become that aegis.

The survival of human civilization as we know it depends solely on our refinement techniques, and the sale of refined Pygnite across the globe would net Prometheus Labs at minimum 400 billion USD.

We are requesting a small loan of one million dollars in order to start our business venture. The money will be allocated to the following:

  • $100,000 for research assets. This includes paratechnology such as Mark II Self Sustaining Cumulous Steam Generators, weather boxes, and solar-powered cognition batteries
  • $50,000 for employee payroll
  • $50,000 for travel expenses
  • $300,000 for audio dampening equipment
  • $200,000 for global advertisement campaigns
  • $300,000 for medical insurance

There is also the issue of finding the fae. Following Maxwellist efforts in an area we could have used indefinitely, the faer folk have gone into hiding en masse. Their proficiency with nomenclative thaumaturgy makes an intelligent faery difficult to distinguish from an average human, which will, unfortunately, result in a trace amount of accidental harvestings. This issue can be mitigated by exposing each subject to iron prior to harvesting, however.

Pygnite in its unrefined form is unusually loud. That is to say, there is an extremely unpleasant audiohazard being emitted from Pygnite ingots and by-products at all times. The refinement process nearly doubles the decibels a standard ingot emits.

The moral concerns of this practice are the primary concern with this proposal. We would effectively be torturing fae across the globe at our facilities for weeks, or until we have extracted all the Pygnite we could from them. This is not a job for the faint of heart nor those that are easily disturbed.


Following the apprehension of PoI-6800-1, an interview was conducted by O5-7 in order to ascertain their intentions.

Interviewer: O5-7

Interviewee: PoI-6800-1

<Begin Log>

O5-7: First of all, I'd like to formally apologize on the Foundation's behalf for the-

[PoI-6800-1 begins crying softly into her hands. O5-7 scratches the back of his neck before looking at his own hands. They are shaking, but it is unclear why. O5-7 removes a flask from his lab coat pocket and takes a drink. He offers it to PoI-6800-1.]

O5-7: Look, kid, the world is fucked. So fucking fucked. We're all going to die unless we take measures to prevent that, and… what I'm trying to say is that I can save the few of you that are left.

[PoI-6800-1 takes the flask and throws it against the wall, denting the object and spilling its contents on the floor.]

PoI-6800-1: What good is an apology from you? My people are dead. My friends, my family, everyone I've ever cared about. Murdered.

O5-7: That isn't- you can't blame that on us. We didn't do anything.

[PoI-6800-1 resumes crying. She hits the table with her fist before standing. She paces back and forth on the other side of the table for several minutes as O5-7 watches.]

PoI-6800-1: (Whispering) I know.

O5-7: I'm sorry?

PoI-6800-1: (Shouting) I said I FUCKING KNOW.

[PoI-6800-1 hits the table again. When she removes her fist, it is covered with blood.]

PoI-6800-1: When the machine men brought their fires to the land of which we cannot speak you did nothing. I know that you know about the other side of the well and that you know how to get there. You weren't there for us when we needed you, and now you want to apologize? Please. I've been on the run with the only family I have left for seven days. Seven fucking days. What good's an apology now that everyone's dead?

PoI-6800-1 continues to pace back and forth for several minutes. She runs her hands through her hair and pulls on parts of it. Her eyes appear bloodshot. Her hand is bleeding.]

PoI-6800-1: Where's Old Man Java? And my Father? Have they been harvested already?

O5-7: [Silence]

PoI-6800-1: They… they're…

O5-7: I'm sorry. I truly am. But our planet is experiencing a potential extinction-level event. The snowstorm is growing bigger than we could ever hope to contain, and civilization as we know it is falling apart. Everyone on Earth would have died if measures weren't taken.

PoI-6800-1: But what about my planet? You'd sacrifice my race to save your own? Who are you to decide who gets to live and who doesn't!

O5-7: …Your people are almost extinct thanks to the Maxwellists and their followers. My agents embedded in the IUCN8 estimate that the fae population will be completely exterminated and harvested within the week. But I can keep you safe. You and your culture can survive this uh-

PoI-6800-1: This what? Genocide?

O5-7: That's one way to put it.

PoI-6800-1: Just… What do you want from me?

O5-7: I want to keep you safe. I want to keep your friends and family safe. We've committed horrible atrocities in the name of the greater good, but I can't deal with that. I don't fucking know how anyone can be okay with what we've done. What we're doing. I know that this one act won't make up for all the suffering you've endured, but at least you'll live long enough to see the end of it all.

PoI-6800-1: You're lying.

O5-7: I'm not.

PoI-6800-1: What if I decline?

O5-7: I'd rather not think about that. Please. Let me do this. Tell me where the rest of your kind might be hiding and I can save you.

PoI-6800-1: I… I…

[PoI-6800-1 puts her head in her hands for several minutes. She is sniffling. O5-7 leans forward and puts his arms on the table. He looks down.]

PoI-6800-1: I just… I'll do it. Under one condition.

O5-7: Of course, anything.

PoI-6800-1: I want to play a game.

O5-7: A game?

PoI-6800-1: An old game from when I was a child. Me and my friend Draema used to play it all the time before we knew how the rules really worked. But, I'm older now, and I know the rules. I just want to play it one last time. Won't take long.

O5-7: Alright, what's the game?

PoI-6800-1: I just need your hand for a second.

[O5-7 stands, but PoI-6800-1 grabs his wrist. O5-7 attempts to pull away but is unable to. A small amount of blood collects around PoI-6800-1's hand. O5-7 winces.]

[After several seconds, PoI-6800-1 releases O5-7 and sits down.]

O5-7: What the hell did you do?

PoI-6800-1: You agreed to play the game. The rules have been set.

O5-7: Fuck.

PoI-6800-1: We each ask each other questions until one of us catches the other in a lie. The first person to be caught in a lie loses. If you walk away, you lose. Call security, you lose. I'll go first.

O5-7: I… you…

PoI-6800-1: Why have you brought me here?

O5-7: For your protection. To find the rest of the fae. Why do you want to know?

PoI-6800-1: I want to see if you are as devious as the rest of your kind.

O5-7: I'm an O5, I'm the one you should trust most out of anyone in the Foundation.

PoI-6800-1: Then why weren't you there when the metal men attacked?

O5-7: You were a low priority at the time. We had other things to deal with, and the Maxwellists weren't breaking the veil of secrecy. I knew that inaction was wrong, so did Calvin and a few others, but we were outvoted.

PoI-6800-1: You let my people get slaughtered because of a vote?

O5-7: Yes. How much longer is this game supposed to last?

PoI-6800-1: Not long. I just have one question left. What is your name?

O5-7: I don't… It's… Ekhart.

PoI-6800-1: That's funny. Sounds an awful lot like a stolen name to me.

O5-7: I didn't-

PoI-6800-1: You did. And that makes you the loser.

[PoI-6800-1 grabs the side of her head, as does O5-7. PoI-6800-1 looks at her hands. Her eyes widen. O5-7 hits the emergency button and two armed personnel enter the chamber. They look at O5-7, then at PoI-6800-1. They raise their rifles.]

PoI-6800-1: I… my name… you-

O5-7: Take the shot.

PoI-6800-1: No. No no wait, I'm… my name is Ja-

[PoI-6800-1 is terminated by gunfire.]

O5-7: Apology accepted.

<End Log>

Day II

The following statement was broadcast to all available television and radio stations.


Hello. As you are most likely aware, the snowstorm that originated in the Amazon has now covered the vast majority of the Earth's surface. There is nothing more we can do about this, save for continuing to harvest Pygnite and make the most of the material while it is still available to us.

There is magic in the world, ladies, gentlemen, and enbies. We at the Foundation can no longer keep this a secret, as we have decided that leaving you in the dark could potentially spell the end for civilization as we know it. Use what you know, and use it wisely. We will be watching.

Those of you caught in contempt of our efforts to save the world will be exposed to SCP-6800-1 and left to fall victim to the elements. Those of you found harboring raw or unprocessed Pygnite will be considered traitors and subjected to the same fate. This is your only warning.

Stay warm. God help us.

— Maria Jones, Director, RAISA

Day I


"Remain a neutral power in the wake of the new civilization" (O5-1)


O5-1 O5-4 O5-6
O5-2 O5-8
O5-3 O5-12



"Assist in Maxwellist efforts to harvest the fae folk for the foreseeable future" (O5-10)


O5-1 O5-4 O5-6
O5-2 O5-8


I'm writing this in case I'm ever found out. Someone will know my story, and perhaps they can continue where I've left off.

My name is Alan Grant, or at least it is now. It was once Ekhart, and before that, it was something different, but that doesn't matter now. I am a member of the Foundation's O5-Council and the last of my kind left as far as the rest of the world is concerned. If there are others hiding amongst us, I cannot say. Probably better that way.

The Maxwellists were, for lack of better words, unsuccessful in bringing their god to this world. My people were slaughtered and turned to iron for nothing. The ashes that fell from the sky blanketed the earth and covered the guilty with the weight of their sins. The Foundation, complacent throughout it all, is now humanity's best hope against the frozen hell brought upon them by those zealots.

Ironic, isn't it.

It's my duty now to protect what's left of your kind, lest you figure out who I truly am. And by that point, it would be too late for you to do much of anything anyway. As far as you're likely concerned, I am a god in this new world.

Do you see me from the stars above, Father? Mother? Even Old Man Java would be proud of me. You can rest easy now that I have the power to do right by us. And I will do right by us. No matter how long it takes.

And to you Draema. May you rest easy now. I cannot join you in the afterlife. Not yet.

I've got work to do.

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