3/7077 LEVEL 3/7077
Item #: SCP-7077



Special Containment Procedures: A rotating shift of armed guards patrols SCP-7077's exterior, and a remote surveillance system monitors the surrounding area. Guards should escort any individuals crossing the exclusionary area under Cover Story 7077 ("Protected Heritage Site").

Per Addendum 7077.2, exploration of SCP-7077 is forbidden.

Description: SCP-7077 is a limestone structure with a rock-cut façade, located near the Sarawat Mountains in Saudi Arabia. The structure's architecture resembles that of the Nabataean Kingdom, with potential Hellenistic influences. The site containing SCP-7077 features several other abandoned structures of similar design, believed to serve as tombs.

SCP-7077's interior topology is inconsistent, and appears to spontaneously alter based on the individual visiting the structure. The exact relationship between visitor and interior is under investigation (see Addendum 7077.2). Anomalous transformations affiliated with SCP-7077's interior include spatial inconsistencies, spontaneous generation of objects, and teleportation within the structure.

Foundation personnel discovered SCP-7077 in the 1960s, following centuries-old rumours of a site in the area containing archaeological evidence of the biblical Hagar's habitation in the Desert of Paran. Upon discovering SCP-7077's anomalous properties, the Foundation collaborated with the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to block expeditions into the structure.


Reconnaisance footage from initial, unmanned exploration into SCP-7077.

Addendum 7077.1: After containment, Foundation personnel attempted an unmanned reconnaissance mission, using a video camera mounted on a radio controlled vehicle. Recovered footage revealed a small stone chamber, containing only a few unnoteworthy items and a crawl space to the left. Attempts at breaking through the chamber failed. Containment personnel ascertained a human was necessary to properly explore SCP-7077's anomalous properties.

Addendum 7077.2: Following Addendum 7077.1, research lead Dr. John Murray approved a manned expedition into SCP-7077. After consultation with willing volunteers to undertake this expedition, Dr. Lucas Howard was selected due to his familiarity with the region's history and cultural groups, proximity to SCP-7077 at the time, and working professional history with Dr. Murray.

For the exploration of SCP-7077, Dr. Howard wore an experimental, body-mounted, visual recording device capable of documenting and thaumaturgically transmitting his approximate line of sight in greyscale footage. The device included a transmitting-and-receiving radio, allowing for verbal communication between Dr. Howard and Dr. Murray, who acted as Command of the SCP-7077 manned exploration.

Dr. Howard entered SCP-7077 at 12:32 pm on 23/06/1960. The following expeditionary logs are an abridged compilation of transmitted video footage and radio transmissions, which occurred during Dr. Howard's exploration of SCP-7077.

Addendum 7077.2: Exploration Log 001

Date: 23/06/1960
Time: 12:32 pm

Howard: Well this thing is unwieldy. Are you sure you need audio and visual?

Command: Sorry Lucas, protocols change. Higherups think written or verbal accounts of active anomalies aren't substantive on their own. Just think of it as a way to double-check.

Howard: Not sure I love the implication there… Okay, heading in now.

Command: Sounds good. The footage is coming through a little grainy — but that's to be expected. The camera's also recording on film, so we can review any details when you're out if need be.

Howard: Really seems like something I could just write down then. Let's get going.

Dr. Howard enters SCP-7077. The interior space initially appears similar to the previous, unmanned expedition. However, as the camera adjusts to the lower light levels, a formerly non-existent, dark, wooden doorway is present on the far wall.

Howard: I'm assuming you didn't forget to mention the extra door?

Command: That's our confirmation of an anomaly. Good to proceed?

Howard: Dr. Murray, you didn't pull me away from a dig just to stop at the threshold. I'm moving on through now.

Dr. Howard walks forward and pushes on the door. It opens quietly inward. Footage of the interior space beyond displays a room resembling a large vestibule. The area is rectangular, with polished marble floors and flat stone walls. An assortment of evenly placed ionic columns rise to the high ceiling.

Howard: Well, this certainly isn't Nabataean. Architecture's modern, neoclassical but unadorned. A space this size would take up at least the majority of the structure's physical exterior. I'm looking around now, and there doesn't seem to be any signs of damage or age, no dust on the ground either, and— oh my.

Command: Lucas?

The camera pans upwards, revealing an immense, glass, oval-shaped skylight dominating the ceiling. Beyond its surface appears a dark void, dotted with innumerable points of light, differing in size and brightness. Faint, pulsing silver lines interlace between the points.

Howard: I'm fine, just— wow. Not sure if it's coming through, but I'm looking up at the clearest night sky I've seen since I was a kid. But that can't be it. Almost looks like they're connected, like constellations; though none that I recognize.

Command: Hold the camera on it for a bit. We'll get the details on the film and can have our people look into it when you're back out. Not all stars live above Kentucky, you know.

Howard: Hilarious, John. You know I'm from… never mind. I'm looking back around now, at the space itself. There are hallways on the room's far sides. Can't seem to make them out in much detail. I'm moving towards the one on the left now.

Dr. Howard approaches the entrance to the connecting corridor. He leans forward to get a view from afar.

Howard: The lighting here seems odd. Inconsistent. It feels intentional or planned, not natural. Like stage lighting for a show. A lot of shadows up ahead that just seem to gather and hang there.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

The hallway before Dr. Howard extends into an intersection in the distance. On either side, carved decorative motifs cover the walls, lacking in identifiable forms and stylistic elements. A skylight running the length of the coordinator illuminates the space: through the glass, dim, consistent lighting shines downward from an unidentifiable source.

Command: Lucas, enter the first entrance on your right.

Facing inward, the adjoining room appears dark initially, containing an arrangement of shadowy forms. As Dr. Howard enters, the lighting within seems to adjust: illumination resembling overhead spotlights reveal an assortment of objects positioned on a series of pedestals and wall mountings. The camera can only capture those closest to the entrance in detail.

Howard: A storeroom of some kind, can only see part of the way in. Going to have a look around.

Dr. Howard approaches one of the nearest pedestals on the lefthand side of the room. Positioned atop it are several overlapping metal horseshoes, severely rusted. He circles through a series of nearby displays, each featuring an assortment of wooden and/or metal tools, all notably aged.

Howard: I'm looking at a spade now. Wood's weathered, but not decomposed or too badly damaged, and the metalworking's modern enough, at least from within the century. Seem like the sort of things you'd bring to a dig site rather than hope to come across there.

Dr. Howard proceeds to circle through the space, revealing more poorly illuminated tools positioned on the stone walls and elevated platforms. He stops before a pitchfork suspended on a wall mounting. The item seemingly lacks one of its tines.

Howard: I'm going to handle one of the objects, any objections?

Command: None from us, but be careful.

Howard: Not too worried about tetanus, John.

Dr. Howard dons a pair of white linen gloves from his pocket. He carefully lifts the pitchfork, removing it from the wall mounting. Dr. Howard runs his hand along the length of it and inspects the broken segment before turning the item over. He sees a worn manufacturer's mark on the metal.

Howard: Well that simplifies things: Armstong Tools, 1893.

Command: We can get the people here started on that, anything else?

Dr. Howard repositions the pitchfork, letting his hand settle into two grooves in the wood: near the head and rear of the object. After a moment he places it back against the wall.

Howard: Uh. Sorry, nothing at the moment. I'm going to head deeper into the room and try and determine the size we're dealing with here.

As Dr. Howard progresses through the space, additional pedestals and wall-mounted items become visible. The objects appear roughly consistent with the usage of those encountered previously and display similar signs of aging and use. Much of the room remains obscured in shadow, with direct illumination predominantly directed towards the assorted objects. Dr. Howard withdraws a small notebook and begins to document the items he encounters.

Eventually, the far end of the room becomes visible in the camera frame. A closed wooden door leans against its surface, illuminated from above. The door appears worn and cracked, with vestiges of red paint noticeably flaking along its exterior. A single, round metal handle is positioned on the right-hand side. Dr. Howard breathes in sharply.

Command: You alright, Lucas?

Howard: Yeah, there's — there's another door here. It's different from the one at the entrance to SCP-7077; looks like it's just leaning against the wall.

Dr. Howard reaches toward the handle while speaking, before retracting his hand.

Howard: I think I'm going to try to open it. See if it budges.

Dr. Howard shakily pulls the door handle. The interior resembles a small bedroom, with wooden paneling and floors. White paint flakes from the boards. The room is empty save an unmade bed and nightstand. In front of the bed stand two pedestals, topped with glass boxes. In one sits a chef's knife, an encrusted liquid along the edge. In the other sits a jewelry mannequin, on which rests a necklace with a golden ring.

Howard: That… that can't be, I—

Dr. Howard's breaths grow shallower and shallower, until he starts violently coughing. He kneels on the ground.

Command: Everything good, Lucas? Why don't you try and enter the ro—

Howard: Command, I— I'm going to return to the main space. Whatever you brought me here for, well this isn't that. I've got reports to update on the other dig sites; I can't waste my time with whatever's going on here.

Dr. Howard turns around, only to find the room has changed in construction. A door on the right wall leads to a dark corridor. At the far end, a silver mirror hangs on the wall, partially scratched and obscured. Dr. Howard steps back in shock at his reflection.

Command: Jesus. Bit of a scare there. We can prep a team to come and get you if you're sure. We've seen the layout's inconsistent, so it's probably best for you to stay put until they can find you.

Dr. Howard stares back toward the bedroom area for around a minute. His breaths slow as he forcibly controls his air intake. He looks away toward the entryway on the right wall.

Command: Do you wish to leave?

Dr. Howard walks swiftly through the opening. As he passes through the threshold, contact is briefly lost.

Addendum 7077.2: Exploration Log 002

Date: 23/06/1960
Time: 1:46 pm
Note: Video link and radio contact with Dr. Howard resumed after approximately 30 and 40 seconds of interruption respectively.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

Prior to the reestablishment of radio contact, the video footage shows Dr. Howard stepping through the passageway. Upon doing so, the space beyond shifts from the previously seen corridor to a large, empty, heavily stylized theatre. Rows of seating are arranged facing toward the stage, an ornate curtain draping. The walls of the space and the curtain's fabric display extensive decorative motifs and imagery superficially resembling Ancient Egyptian ornamentation, hyper-stylized for dramatic effect.

Command: Howard? Do you hear me?

Howard: Yeah, I'm… somewhere. Oh, fucking hell. This is Grauman's.

Command: Come again, Grewmans?

Howard: Grauman's: Hollywood, California. I uh, I worked here for a while. I think SCP-7077 is constructing things, pulling them from the world, or memories of it I suppose.

Command: So that bedroom back there was—

Abruptly, the lights within the space dim and the stage's curtains draw back, revealing a blank silvery screen. A projected image appears, depicting an image of the theatre space itself. The projected theatre's lights dim, and a showing begins to play on the screen. The subsequent film shown within the projected image likewise depicts the movie theatre. Dr. Howard turns away from the screen as the image within the projection begins to play its own projected film.

Howard: This isn't right, this isn't how I remember this space. Something about it is off.

Dr. Howard turns in a slow circle. The camera sweeps over rows of seating before stopping when it faces an elevated array of balcony seating. Two humanoid figures appear seated above, looking down towards the main theatre space, the dim lighting obscures any further detail.

Howard: Oh lord.

Dr. Howard crouches behind a nearby seat.

Command: Do they seem responsive, Lucas? Have they seen you?

Dr. Howard looks over the edge of the seat.

Howard: No, I don't think so. I'm going to try to make my way up. There's a stairwell on the side.

Dr. Howard crawls through the theatre. Alongside one wall, between two ornate pillars, is a door disguised as part of the wall's decoration. Dr. Howard pushes against it and it swings inward, revealing a poorly lit staircase. He ascends, stopping to rest on the landing approximately halfway up. He leans against the railing and coughs several times; the camera's view is briefly obscured as he wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

Command: Lucas, all good?

Howard: Yeah, I'm fine. Just some dust. I'm continuing up now.

At the summit of the staircase is a push-lever door. Dr. Howard leans into it, revealing a small room. Along the stone walls sits a table, two writing desks, a bookshelf. and a lamp. A photograph of the Great Pyramids of Giza is pinned on the wall. A single, black high-heel shoe rests against a small pile of crumpled bedlinens.

In the center of the room is a stone carving of a larger-than-life-size human figure. The statue's head faces towards the entrance. Dr. Howard approaches it, coming to rest along its side.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

Howard: This is authentic. Looks to be Ramses II. Otherwise, the room is…

Dr. Howard approaches the table. On it sits two empty place settings; a bottle of champagne has been uncorked. He circles around to the set of writing desks where respective typewriters sit. Placed adjacent to one is an opened envelope, the internal documents are missing. The upper-left corner identifies the sender as the University of California, Berkeley — Admissions.

Howard: This is a scene, a tableau: something frozen, captured. At a dig, you're always wanting to see more — you don't trust just the first layer, because it's already been buried — the complexity is in the depth.

Howard: This place, it's not showing one event, a single night, an argument. There's a strata to it. Does that mean there's an intent? Or does it just fall into place, layer by layer?

Command: Do you remember this, Lucas?

Dr. Howard passes by the bookshelf without responding and adjusts his body so the camera faces the pile by the doorway, where the aforementioned high-heeled shoe rests. He remains at the bookshelf for a moment, before returning to the reclining statue in the center of the room. He extends one hand towards its surface and places a book atop it. Opening the book causes a Polaroid photograph to slide out, falling to the floor.

Dr. Howard stoops to pick it up, revealing a black and white image of a beachfront at night. The ocean is choppy, and merges into the night sky; reflections of the stars above are disjointed by the turbulent surface of the water. Beside the photo are two, previously unnoticed paper movie tickets; the writing "thanks for covering my shift!" is scribbled on one of them, alongside a red kiss mark. As Dr. Howard's hand nears the photo, he pulls it back and stands upward. The space around him has shifted. In place of the small, darkened room is a large, open, two-storied exhibit hall.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

The space expands in either direction, featuring neoclassical architectural stylings. Light filters in through a skylight into an open and airy interior. The floors and decorative elements appear to be finely polished white marble. In one direction, the space branches into several passageways; the other contains various statues, ceramics, and stonework art pieces displayed along the ground floor and overhead mezzanine level. The camera approaches one of the nearby works: a broken, waist-height, reddish urn decorated in geometric patterns.

Howard: Anomalous refrigeration device — Akkadian. I know this, John.

Dr. Howard peers further along the hallway.

Howard: I know all of these.

Dr. Howard continues down the hallway, examining each of the displayed items in turn. They range vastly in apparent cultural origin, age, and composition. He stops before a small ceramic carving of a crocodile.

Howard: The rooms had items I had used, or lived with, while working there, while I was young and— and in love. And these are all objects I worked with: found, catalogued, studied. This space is a portfolio of my work. But, well, without me. I'd never arranged something like this, the display is disjointed, unfocused.

Command: I've seen your office, Lucas.

Dr. Howard continues walking down the hallway. Occasionally pausing to examine the displays or looking up towards the elevated level.

Howard: That's a private space, it only needs to work for me. This is public, set up for a visitor — one who'd misconstrue the history, the relations — or lack thereof.

Dr. Howard passes one of the pillars, and a previously hidden sculpture comes into view: its body is roughly humanoid, with a rounded torso, abruptly terminating limbs, and a bloated 'head' with ornate facial markings.

The camera jostles and falls backward. Dr. Howard's arm is visible, placed on the floor to support himself. It remains there for a moment, before Dr. Howard stands up and leans against the nearby pillar.

Command: Lucas, we heard you scream and the video went to shit. What the hell was that.

Dr. Howard's voice is shaky, and he takes several deep breaths before speaking.

Howard: John, remember what you told me not to do when we first met? You were trying to find a new home for an SCP — and I went around your back for approval to take a sample before it was shipped overseas?

Howard: I— I blinked.

Command: Jesus, Lucas. And you're—

Howard: Not dead? Yeah — yeah, I am.

Dr. Howard walks toward the statue, whose arms stretch out towards him. The camera is angled slightly off-centre, providing a partial view of the coloured facial markings stained onto the object.

Howard: This place is pulling things together, but it's all innate. It's not real.

Dr. Howard places one hand on the shoulder of the statue.

Howard: You're not real.

Dr. Howard shoves the statue sideway. As it falls, the head strikes the ground first, detaching from the torso and rolling towards the wall. It stops moving upon impact.

Command: Lucas, hang on for a moment. If this is from your memories, the rust on the tools, do you remember them like that?

Howard: John, I frankly don't give a damn. I'm getting the hell out of here. Whatever game is being played I'm not interested.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

Dr. Howard walks quickly through the remainder of the exhibition space, pausing only at a large, partially incomplete series of carved stone tablets. As he approaches the far side of the hallway, a dark passageway becomes visible. Partially emerging from the shadow is a black shoe: appearing to be the pair of the one seen earlier.

Dr. Howard pauses, before continuing through the passageway; a flickering of light can be seen that grows in intensity as he walks through a narrow, darkened coordinator. The space opens into the decorative, Egyptian Revivalist theatre previously encountered. Dr. Howard overlooks the space from the raised balcony.

The shifting illumination is revealed to be caused by a large and growing fire, seemingly originating from the center the stage; plumes of black smoke thread through the air, pooling on the ceiling and spilling outward. The blaze itself has crawled along, consuming the front row of seating in an inferno. Tendrils of fire curl up one of the walls and the base of a decorative pillar.

Howard: No, no, no, no, no, no…

Despite the spreading fire, the theatre's screen remains intact. A projected image shows a small, sparsely decorated bedroom at night from the angle of the doorway. A candle within the frame partially illuminates a sleeping, nightgown-wearing individual.

Comand: Lucas, you've got to get out. There was a door on your left. Lucas?

In the lower level of the theatre, a woman stumbles out of the smoke. She's wearing a calf-length dress and holds a pair of high heels as she runs barefoot across the space, coughing as the smoke whips around her. On the side of the theatre, one of the decorative, wooden pillars splinters in the heat. She turns to look at it as it falls towards her. She manages to dive to the side, but the crashing structure lands on her legs, pinning her to the carpeted floor.

Howard: Elizabeth!

Dr. Howard rushes to the edge of the balcony, gripping it with both hands. The camera leans over the railing, providing a closer view of the woman, who looks toward the far wall of the theatre. She cries out, but the words spoken — if any — are inaudible.

Howard: You bastard, you fucking bastard.

Dr. Howard slams his hand against the barrier, before standing up on a nearby seat to climb over the railing. The camera faces down towards the theatre floor for a moment before he vaults over the railing. As he falls the camera spins, briefly capturing an image of the movie screen, which shows the figure in bed — a middle-aged woman — awaking.

Dr. Howard hits the floor of the theatre, and the impact jostles the camera; the footage cuts to black as video transmission is lost. Dr. Howard does not respond to repeated attempts at radio contact.

Addendum 7077.2: Exploration Log 003

Date: 23/06/1960
Time: 3:17 pm
Note: After a period of radio silence, a groaning noise is transmitted from within SCP-7077. Contact with Dr. Howard is subsequently reestablished.

Command: Gave us quite the scare there, Lucas. You okay?

Howard: I uh, jumped from the balcony. I think I hit my head pretty hard.

Command: I saw that. Quite the performance.

Howard: Camera lens looks like it came loose. Let me just see if I can…

Video transmission resumes, initially directed towards Dr. Howard's face. A large bruise is visible on the left-hand side of his cheek. As he fumbles while reattaching it to the mount, the room becomes visible. The space is square, with two-toned stone walls. The ceiling rises to a height of approximately 5 meters. Positioned against the nearby wall is an empty wooden chair.


Reconnaisance footage from manned exploration into SCP-7077.

Dr. Howard limps towards the chair before plopping down on it. The camera is angled down towards his body.

Howard: This whole place. John, I'm tired. I don't want this — any of this. I… it…

Command: Easy, Lucas. It's going to be okay.

The lighting within the room shifts, darkening. As Dr. Howard straightens in the chair, the presence of a single, waist-height pedestal in the center of the room is visible. Light emanates from the glass panel atop it, projecting a circular, hollow shadow on the ceiling.

Howard: Fuck you. I know what you're doing. It's not going to work.

Command: I'm just trying to help—

Howard: These are my memories, my life. You're using it, showing it to me like it means something. Do you think I don't know that? There's nothing here that I haven't seen before — felt before. You think I'm what, going to break?

Dr. Howard stands up from the chair. Ignoring Command's attempts to speak to him.

Howard: Well tough luck. Everything — every single god damn thing — in my life I clawed out of the fucking ground, with hand and tooth and claw. Do you think I have regrets? Every fucking person on the planet does! But I made it. I got here, I dragged myself out of squalor. Everything you've shown me is mine: my pain, my accomplishments! Do you understand? This — your fiction, your desperate constructions, your hollow projections — is meaningless to me. I know how it ends.

Dr. Howard approaches the pedestal and looks down. On the illuminated surface is a worn, scuffed gold ring. A semi-precious green stone is set upon the outside edge.

Howard: Smoke and mirrors, shadows on the wall, that's all this is. I know your tricks, now. They mean nothing to me.

Dr. Howard reaches towards the ring of the pedestal, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

Howard: I am in control here.

Instantaneously, the space is bathed in an influx of light. The ring is heard to fall and clatters onto the pedestal as Dr. Howard reflexively bends forward and covers his eyes. When he stands back up, two overlappings videos are projected onto the ceiling.

Note: Footage recovered depicts these series of images running concurrently. The following stylized text is meant to account for both simultaneously.

The camera faces upwards within a poorly lit room. It is dark, small, and sparsely decorated. The footage moves to one side, and a face — reflected in a mirror on a bedside table — comes into the frame. The woman in the mirror appears to be mid-50s, with a taught, angular facial structure and closed deep-set eyes. She is wearing a white nightgown. Beside the mirror on the table is a small ring.

The image appears to stumble forward unsteadily, bobbing and moving side-to-side. Much of the frame is obscured by rolling clouds of black smoke. Eventually, the camera turns, briefly revealing the stylized theatre space encountered by Dr. Howard within SCP-7077. Flickering light from behind the camera as well as the ample smoke cause particularities of the space to be hard to identify. A doorway is briefly visible on the far side of the image.

The camera shifts downwards, looking towards the corner of the room where a small pile of rags are visibly bloodied. It then turns to a wooden doorway in the periphery, where a small humanoid figure is partially visible. The figure steps toward the camera and is revealed to be a boy in his early teens. He wears washed-out pyjamas with signs of stitching and repair.

As the footage approaches the doorway, stumbling occasionally, its perspective turns suddenly. The wooden base of a decorative pillar splinters and crackles before coming loose, and the entire structure falls quickly towards the camera, which attempts to move out of the way. Vision is temporarily obscured by a displaced cloud of dust and ash.

As the child steps towards the light of the candle, a large bruise is visible along the left-hand side of his face and a small, diagonal cut trails along the welt towards and across the child's lips. He walks to the bed, and from his side raises a kitchen knife towards the camera.

As the smoke and visual debris clear, the camera reveals the lower body of a person, wearing a soot-stained dress, whose legs are pinned beneath the fallen pillar. A pair of black high heels are scattered beside her. The individual looks around the space as the fire from the ruble ignites part of the carpet. Towards the door, another human figure comes into view. Their features are indiscernible, but their body is positioned toward the camera.

Two voices cry out: Lucas!

The two separate images overlap, becoming indistinguishable. A collection of movements and shapes without any clear relation to one another or narrative sequence. The footage concluded with the undulating movements of a substance, resembling both a liquid and gas, moving in three dimensions.

As the footage ends, the walls of the room appear to dissipate into a vast space, extending beyond sight in all directions. A grid of identical pedestals occupies this expanse, each possessing an illuminated surface casting light upwards — projecting the shadowed outline of thousands of rings in a chainmail pattern repeating across the endless ceiling.

Dr. Howard silently follows a meandering path through the array of pedestals. Each one he passes displays a unique ring, varying in age, material, and style. He remains silent for a time before sitting down against one of the displays. Dr. Howard removes a handkerchief from his pocket and coughs into it, revealing a red stain as he puts it away.

Command: Lord, Lucas. Between your ranting, radio silence, and whatever that was — what the hell's going on?

Howard: Did you see?

Command: I'm not sure what I should've seen first.

Howard: I didn't know either. Not for all my life did I know what to see, or how to see it. I didn't see it when I slashed my mother's throat in the night, as if in the Harem Conspiracy. I didn't see it when I ran away from our house in the cold dark, buying an old mule with the meager coins I nabbed to leave for the city, for a newer life. And when Elizabeth suffocated in smoke and flames, I still didn't see it.

Command: Lucas—

Howard: I needed it reflected back at me. Not a mirror, but a series of mirrors, reflections bouncing off one another and culminating in something almost like infinity. How could I have known… how could I have known what my mother thought of our living situation. What it put her through. What all my actions put everyone through, indefinitely cascading in impact.

Command: Lucas, what the hell are you talking about?

Howard: It's not my memories, John! Not mine alone, anyways. It's a web that has no beginning or end and it continues on and on and loops back on itself, strung between these idle things. There's no end to it, no comprehension.

Dr. Howard coughs violently into his handkerchief. Blood stains are visible.

Howard: Heh. When I signed up for this mission, I knew I didn't have much time left, John. You and I, we're not the spry youths we used to be. Our bodies have wrinkled and fractalled in on themselves, and across that time all I wanted to do was die alone, without having to consider my ghosts. Look where I am now.

Dr. Howard laughs and continues coughing into their handkerchief.

Howard: The best thing I can do now… is see a little outside my own bubble.

He reaches for his audio-visual communication device.

Howard: Maybe I can see where the constellations meet.

Contact is lost.

Addendum 7077.3: Recovery efforts immediately ensued following loss of contact with Dr. Howard. Mobile Task Force members sent to SCP-7077 discovered a space completely different from that recorded in Addendum 7077.2, albeit displaying the same rough properties. Agents could not retrieve Dr. Howard or any items on his person.

23 days after Dr. Howard's loss of connection, his visual recording device forcibly ejected from SCP-7077's entrance, the contraption waterlogged and covered in sand. Recovery personnel carefully retrieved footage from the device, revealing a hitherto unseen exploration log. See transcribed video below:

Addendum 7077.3: Exploration Log 004

Note: Video was retrieved without audio.

Camera catches the recorder mid-fall, tumbling into a patch of sand. As the recorder looks up, the camera faces the sea on a beach at night, the sand faintly lit from an unseen light source. The metallic frames of a skylight soar over the area, indeterminate in size and height. In the sky beyond, thin lines of light pulsate between stars. The distinction between the black ocean and dark sky blurs at the horizon.

An emaciated hand — presumably that of Dr. Howard — reaches past the camera, toward the sand. Dr. Howard attempts to pick himself up, but kneels down before succeeding, making several heaving motions. Eventually, he rises to his feet and starts walking to the sea. The rippling water lacks distinction from the placid ocean around it, obscuring the point at which Dr. Howard fully enters the water.

At around seven minutes, a pale light shines in the distance; the illumination makes the seafloor surrounding Dr. Howard evident. He continues walking until a massive structure comes into view, indeterminate from the camera's distance. Dr. Howard starts walking quicker and more irregularly, attempting to reach the structure.

Eventually, Dr. Howard reaches close enough to the structure that the camera can perceive its design. It is an exact replica of SCP-7077. The light source reveals itself: a shining light within the SCP-7077 replica's interior. Dr. Howard stops briefly. He slowly looks back to where he had come from, completely absent of light, and faces the structure again. As he approaches SCP-7077, the light within grows ever-brighter. The luminescence almost completely blocks the camera's view.

Dr. Howard enters the anteroom, the walls glowing. A wooden door rests at the back. He places his hand on the door, and pushes.

The film tears.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License