SCP-7450 - SCP Foundation

SCP-7450

SCP Anthology 2022 » SCP-7450

Item#: 7450

Level1

Containment Class:

esoteric

Secondary Class:

megiddo

Disruption Class:

amida

Risk Class:

critical

link to memo

SCP-7450. Cognitohazardous elements have been removed, altered or obscured.

Assigned Site:

N/A

Site Director:

N/A

Research Head:

N/A

Assigned Task Force:

N/A

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-7450 is uncontained. The SCP Foundation, in its current iteration, no longer possesses the resources or personnel required to contain SCP-7450. It is unlikely that any third-party paranatural classification and containment organizations would, if they indeed still exist, be capable of containing SCP-7450.

Due to the critical threat that SCP-7450 poses to sentient lifeforms, all Foundation personnel are subject to the requirements of the MAGOG Protocol. The full requirements can be found on the central Foundation data server - the primary tenets are as follows:

Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to leave the confines of their local Foundation site during a transience of SCP-7450.
Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to travel to an area that will be in the path of a SCP-7450 transience within 72 hours.
Under no circumstances are any personnel permitted to look at or listen to SCP-7450.

By order of the Foundation Overwatch Administrator, any personnel found to have purposefully or unintentionally violated one of these requirements is subject to summary execution, by any other member of the SCP Foundation. Adherence to these requirements is paramount to the successful continuance of the human species.

As a result of Foundation’s inability to contain SCP-7450, and the resultant circumstances that arose following its ascension, the SCP Foundation Classification Committee has ruled 3-0 to update SCP-7450’s containment designation from the Apollyon-Class to the Megiddo-Class, to distinguish between entities or anomalies that will inevitably result in the end of the world, and those that already have.

Description: SCP-7450 is the group designation for four massive humanoid eigenweapons that ascended to godhood on the 13th of December, 2028. The ascension of SCP-7450 was predicated by the arrival of the celestial 981-AJAX entity on October 14th, 2025. The end product of the interaction between 981-AJAX and SCP-7450 was the utter annihilation of 981-AJAX and, immediately following that, the rapid escalation of an XK-Class “End of the World” event caused by the cognitohazardous and catastrophic ontokinetic effects of SCP-7450’s presence on Earth.

SCP-7450 entities range between 18.9km and 23.5km in height. They are humanoid in appearance, with six large avian wings emerging from their upper and lower back. SCP-7450 entities have a single arm and hand on their right side, in which they carry a short¹ curved sickle. The entities have humanoid legs which terminate at the ankles and are seemingly incapable of locomotion - instead moving by way of levitation, though the legs do move as if ambulating. Surviving descriptions of SCP-7450 indicate other possible animal characteristics, such as claws, feathers on the arm and legs, serpentine tails, etc. They are named, in descending order of size - Pallas, Judith, Rachel, and Argine.

Accurate depictions of their facial features are infeasible to gather - it is currently impossible to obscure images of the entities’ faces to a sufficient degree to allow for visual assessment while also negating their cognitohazardous properties. Similarly, audio recordings of SCP-7450’s vocalizations cannot be reviewed by sentient observers - both human and sentient AI listeners are subject to the cognitohazards present in SCP-7450’s voice.

Since the moment of their ascension, each of the four instances of SCP-7450 have been in constant circumnavigatory transience of the planet. Each of the four moves at slightly different speeds - Rachel is the fastest, and transits the globe once every four hundred and sixteen days, whereas the slowest, Pallas, completes the passage in four hundred and sixty-eight days.

Sentient creatures exposed to the visage or voice of any instance of SCP-7450 will immediately become compelled to follow it in its transit of the planet. Once an individual has been affected they are unrecoverable - subjects who fall under the effect of SCP-7450’s compulsion will make every possible effort to avoid anything that would impede their ability to join in the mass following of SCP-7450 and cannot be deterred short of the total destruction of their body. Affected persons undergo changes over time to their physiology - they cease to age, their bodies become more resistant to damage and decay, and their features slowly begin to resemble the SCP-7450 instance they follow. They will walk behind their instance of SCP-7450 until their feet wear down to their ankles, at which point they will begin levitating alongside other similar subjects. Lastly, these subjects mimic the vocalizations of SCP-7450, and while exposure to these vocalizations by non-affected persons does not have the same immediate compulsory effect as SCP-7450, they will nonetheless experience the same end condition after a short period of time.

Addendum 7450.1: Foundation Overseer’s Address 11.2.2025

Access File

Addendum 7450.2: Foundation Overseer’s Address 12.11.2028

Access File

Image taken from closed circuit surveillance footage on December 13th, 2028.

Addendum 7450.3: Personal Journal Entries

Personal Journal
Date: 12.14.2032

Four year anniversary. Nobody responding to update requests anymore. We must be getting near the close.

I went back and read the rest of this file - hilariously abridged. We had such high hopes in the beginning, and then nothing. Planning committees and emails of encouragement. We made it out better than most, that first day they started crying out we couldn't hear it from so deep underground. Sixty-four sites! Forty-seven thousand personnel. Why did it take us so long to learn how to stay alive?

We're paying a price for AJAX. AJAX! What's the point of the secrecy now? What's the point of the updates and the status reports? Who is left to read this?

I'll tell you what happened. If you're reading this, then you're whoever is left than me. There aren't many of us now, if any at all. Maybe it'll be Alto.

In 1996 we buried four girls at four different DEEPWELL sites. A preparation for the end of the world. They'd had a close call with 239 and wanted to make sure they had a contingency plan. This is before we found 2000, so it became moot after that point. The project was more or less scrapped, but they didn't dig those girls up. I wonder sometimes if there was ever a meeting about it, or if they just forgot they were there.

Anyway, they were buried under a mountain of sorcery and technology and given wombs that would operate for a thousand years. For three decades they were down there until AJAX showed up and turned 2000 into a smoking wreck. Suddenly we need another option, and look at that? Kain finds those four girls and starts the machines up again and we have our parachute again.

But then Armond tells the entire world about them as he's letting everyone know that we're going to die. All our best laid plans, all our world religions, suddenly only one thing mattered. Mankind had seen us calling real nightmares up from the bowels of the Earth, powers they had never dreamed of, and suddenly we're telling them it's all over. Except - wait - there are these four girls who can save us! What did we think was going to happen? Had we really not learned about what belief does?

So they woke up, and that was it. Eight billion humans crying out for a god to save them. Eight billion humans screaming, crying, begging. Our city walls fallen and our idols smashed against the ground. AJAX - I don't even remember what AJAX looked like, to be honest - preparing to open his last eye, and people were afraid. We lamented our shared fate, and our gods woke up.

But they weren't built to be divine, they didn't know what was going to happen to them. The Foundation found them on a street corner somewhere, cleaned them up, put ten billion dollars of tech into them and then sent them to bed. When they woke up they were gods. They were thirteen years old.

Eight hours! We had eight hours, Alto. Eight hours to plan, before Pallas cracked open her mouth and began screaming. Were they scared too? Were they afraid of what they'd become? Their first action was a reaction, I'm sure of it - AJAX came at them and they scattered it across the atmosphere. Their next action was fear - gods need worship, and worshippers. It didn't take long. They blew through our cognitohazard defenses in seconds, like rice paper before a blow torch.

And now it's been four years. Half of us we lost to the sisters. Another third to exhaustion. Tired, scared, defeated - they would put down their work, walk out the door, and then wait for a sister to come calling.

I don't know what the point of this was. I don't know what we accomplished here. Did we succeed in our mission? Did we plan enough? Do we still have work to do? Did we ensure the survival of our species?

I don't know. I'm tired too. We wept when skies opened up and AJAX opened its first eye, and all the eyes afterwards. We lamented our grim misfortune and prayed for an end to our suffering. Why haven't I gotten the message yet?

Now there's nobody left to lament but me.

9.1.2035