

SCP-8430, aboveground portion, August 2024. Blue and Gray Floors are visible.
Special Containment Procedures: The city of Needlework, Arizona, must house at least 2,000 residents. Through displacement of civilians from other areas, the Foundation is to ensure that Needlework maintains a working population of at least 2,000.
Foundation personnel may not reside in Needlework,1 nor may employees of any other entity than SCP-8430. No business may operate in Needlework other than SCP-8430. Foundation operatives are to execute buyouts, falsified criminal activities, and government campaigns to ensure that Fulfillment Facility 109 employs the city's entire adult workforce.
Twice per year, the Foundation supplies parts and repairs for SCP-8430’s provided IX-4 pods and their occupants. This is the only time at which members of staff are permitted to enter SCP-8430. At no point during this process are staff to enter the Red Floor. Staff routinely request psychological support or amnestic treatment upon completion of IX-4 maintenance; such requests are blanket authorized by order of Site-141.
IX-4 Fulfillment Pods at Site-141.
Description: SCP-8430 is Fulfillment Facility 109, a medical technology fabrication center located approx. 81km south of Phoenix, AZ, USA, and operated by med-tech distributor Ellison Health. The facility began exhibiting anomalous qualities following a buyout of Ellison Health by U.S.-based drugmaker Purdue Pharma in 2023.
Fulfillment Facility 109 is divided into four floors:
- Blue Floor: Intake and administrative offices (suspected to house SCP-8430-1)
- Yellow Floor: Raw materials processing; manufacturing preparation
- Red Floor: [DATA EXPUNGED]
- Gray Floor: Distribution and shipping of manufactured goods
Anomalous effects are present throughout the facility, but are thought to manifest primarily on the Yellow Floor and the Red Floor.
Discovery: SCP-8430 first drew Foundation attention in the wake of local supply chain disruptions. Investigation revealed that 97% of disrupted orders had been placed by Ellison Health Fulfillment Facility 109, which had taken delivery—in a single month—of sufficient supplies to reconstruct the plant’s physical structure over 110 times. No external changes to the building or its grounds were apparent, leading researchers to presume massive internal alterations were in progress for an unknown purpose.
Attempts were made to contact Ellison Health, but agents were unable to reach the company. Phone calls were not returned, and e-mails were handled by automated systems. Media reports and cross-analysis of security footage revealed that no Ellison corporate executive had made a public appearance in at least six weeks.
Foundation Field Agent Eric Cano was dispatched to Needlework to investigate SCP-8430 on November 12, 2023.
[BEGIN LOG]
Agent Cano parks his vehicle in the lot outside Fulfillment Facility 109 and approaches a door in the west side of the building. As he nears it, several workers in blue uniforms exit the building and move toward him. They walk slowly, not looking up from the ground.
Agent Cano: Excuse me!
The workers glance up.
Worker 1: Can we do something for you?
Agent Cano: I'm Agent Cano of the Department of Commerce.
Cano flashes a badge.
Agent Cano: I'm looking for the manager of this plant.
The frontmost worker shrugs.
Worker 1: Don’t know if we have a manager. Get everything through the earpiece.
The worker taps his temple. He is wearing a large copper device on his temple. It branches out and snakes along the side of his skull down the length of his jaw.
Agent Cano: Do you report to anyone on site?
The worker shrugs again, as do the others. Cano's bodycam picks up movement near the roof; surveillance cameras have rotated toward the group.
Worker 1: Couldn’t tell you. If you wanna look inside, lobby’s right there.
The worker points at the door the three have just exited.
Worker 1: Careful, though, there's some, uh. Some work going on. I think. Don’t really remember what.
Agent Cano: I'll watch my step. Thanks.
The workers continue walking away. Cano eyes them as they move. Their uniforms are burnt, and the man at the back walks with a limp.
Agent Cano: Hey!
The three men stop and turn, warily.
Agent Cano: Can I get your names, please?
The workers glance at each other.
Worker 1: Look, man…
Worker 3: We're just trying to get through the day.
The men turn and continue walking. Cano watches them go for a while, but doesn't stop them. After a moment, he approaches the door and opens it. Inside is a linoleum-floored reception area with a desk and several fake plants. There are no bulbs in the fixtures; the only light comes through several large windows, and from a computer monitor at reception.
Agent Cano: Nobody at the front desk.
Cano examines the desk. There is computer and phone equipment, but no chair. The computer monitor is flickering rapidly between several different applications.
Agent Cano: Continuing inside.

Hallway, Blue Floor.
Cano steps around the desk and through the door behind it. The rooms beyond are in disrepair, with portions of the ceiling, walls and windows missing. There is enough dust on the floor that the agent leaves footprints as he walks.
There is a brief burst of static over the comms system.
Command: Apologies. Your audio cut out for a moment—could you repeat, please?
Agent Cano: Didn’t say anything. Just some static on the line. Whole place looks deserted so far. I wonder if— huh.
Cano has reached a large, open office block. Abandoned desks and filing equipment are arranged haphazardly. Every desk, along with most of the walls and floor, is covered with a thick mat of black, rubbery strands, coalescing around a large object in the center of the room. The object is so thoroughly coated in the material that it is impossible to identify.
Agent Cano bends down to examine the strands.
Agent Cano: Cables. Command, what kind of tech does this place make again?
Agent Cano: …Command? Do you copy?
Cano taps his earpiece.
Command: Apologies, we’re still getting some interruptions. Please repeat.
Agent Cano: I’ve got some freaky cables here. Covering everything, almost like a plant. Do you know what kind of technology the company makes?
Command: Medical supplies and equipment. Nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps the cables are part of the remodeling work you mentioned?
Agent Cano: No way. I can feel the heat from here. Voltage must be crazy.
Cano steps gingerly across the room, giving the object in the center a wide berth.
Agent Cano: Another door at the end. Looks like stairs, going down. Still no sign of any staff.
Cano reaches the door. A narrow metal walkway descends into darkness. There is one light on at the bottom.
Cano takes a single step, and finds himself at the bottom of the staircase. He stumbles.
Agent Cano: Fuck! Ah, god dammit.
Cano looks back up the staircase, his bodycam panning to follow. The door he entered through is no longer visible.
Agent Cano: Command, be advised facility exhibits spatial anomalies. We’ll probably need the Mole Rats.
Command: If you’re in danger, it may be better to turn back.
Agent Cano: Don’t think I can—my exit’s gone. Might need evac if I can’t find another way out.

Hallway, Yellow Floor.
Cano continues cautiously down the hall. The walls and ceiling are made of bare cement, with copper piping running along them periodically.
Agent Cano: So many cars in the lot. There must be hundreds of people in here somewhere. Ah!
Cano jogs forward to a glass viewing window set into one wall. It overlooks a machine room, with shelving and chutes around the outside and a series of large processing gears at the center. Around the gears, four workers in blue uniforms are moving, distributing materials from the chutes carefully into the machine.
Agent Cano: Hey!
Cano pounds on the glass. The employees are mere feet away, but if they can hear him, they do not react.
One of the gears in the machine jams, and the workers converge on it. As Cano watches, the employees appear to have a discussion among themselves.
Agent Cano: What are they…
The workers come to some kind of resolution, and one of them—the oldest, a woman in her 50s—reaches into the machine to clear the jam. As soon as she removes the obstruction, the gears spring to life, and her colleagues pull her back frantically as the gears rotate around her arm. They help the woman to her feet gingerly; she is bleeding. One of her fingers is missing.
Agent Cano: For fuck’s sake.
Command: What are you seeing?
Agent Cano: Why the hell do they have people doing this? Can’t they get a robot?
Command: Agent, you should keep looking for an exit.
Cano lingers for a moment at the glass, then proceeds down the hall. At the far end is another doorway, but the hall beyond is largely obscured by a mass of cabling. Most of the opening has been partitioned off by a sheet of plate metal, behind which wires and insulation are bursting out from the seams. Only a third of the doorway remains passable.
Agent Cano: You getting this, command?
Command: I’m not sure you can get through this way.
Agent Cano: Well, lucky for you I’m a small guy.
Cano kneels and turns sideways, squeezing through the bottom corner of the doorway past the cabling.
Agent Cano: Christ, the smell… Fried machinery and electronics. Hot plastic and smoke and oil. Hurts to breathe it.
Cano emerges into a narrow passage. He is only able to stand partially erect; the ceiling is no higher than four feet, and the passageway is scarcely two feet across. Walls are composed of tightly-packed wires and cabling, interspersed with patches of metal and drywall at regular intervals.
Agent Cano: They’ve gutted the original floorplan. Knocked new holes right through whatever walls were already here.
Cano moves further into the building. The corridor branches off frequently, gaining and losing elevation and making abrupt turns. At times, Agent Cano must crawl on his hands and knees to progress.
Agent Cano: Wait— Hello? Can you hear me?
Command: I do not recommend continuing forward. You should look for a way out.
Cano: No good. I’ve got voices, off to the left through the wall.
Cano nears another intersection. Around the corner is a small open area, the size of a private office. Standing shoulder to shoulder around the edge are eight individuals in uniforms and earpieces. They are typing at computers screens affixed directly to the cabling and insulation of the walls.
Worker 1: Redirecting flow from Yellow-8, to, to…
Worker 2: Redirect to -6.
Worker 1: Right…
The workers do not stop typing or look away from their screens as they speak.
Worker 1: Fl-flow rate is st-st-st-st…
Agent Cano: Excuse me, hello?
Several of the workers jump. One of them near the door glances back at Cano, revealing her eyes to be wide and bloodshot. She quickly looks back at her screen. None of the other workers look at the agent, and all continue typing.
Agent Cano: I’m, uh, I’m trying to find a manager or operations office or—
Worker 2: That isn’t any of us. We’re fulfillment reps.
Worker 4: We can’t help you.
Worker 5: Please look somewhere else.
Agent Cano: Right.
The workers continue typing in silence.
Agent Cano: Hey, so, sorry to bother you, looks like you’re busy, but, well. You, uh. Are you all, okay? Here?
Worker 2: Yes.
Worker 5: We’re quite well. We are on deadline.
Worker 2: Our sprint.
Worker 3: Please look somewhere else.
Agent Cano: This isn’t a big room for a lot of you in it, and it’s, well, it’s pretty hot in here, no? When was the last time you all went outside?
Worker 3: It's been… Um…
Worker 1: Outside…
The workers stiffen suddenly. After a moment, they stop typing and stand still at their workstations.
Agent Cano: Uhhm. Is everything all right?
Worker 2: Yes.
Worker 3: Please go. We cannot speak to you any more.
Agent Cano: Look, I’m not just gonna leave you in here. Come on, it’s not far back out of here, I can get you to—
All eight workers shrink together into the corner of the small room. They turn to face Cano, who takes a step back. Most of the workers are glossy-eyed. It is clear from observation that at least half of them are completely blind.
Worker 5: Please. Leave us alone.
Worker 1: We just need to get through the day.
Agent Cano: How long have you been looking at these screens?
There is a loud noise elsewhere in the building—the squealing sound of distorting metal, followed by a crash. Screams can be heard in the distance. Cano turns to the doorway, then back to the group of workers.
Agent Cano: Dammit. Fucking dammit.
Agent Cano: Ok. I have to go see this. But I’m not giving up on you. I work with people—a big organization—and we fix stuff like this. We’ll get you out of here. I promise.
Worker 1: We just need to—
Cano runs out of the room toward the source of the noise, which came from further down the original passage. He proceeds as quickly as possible at a half crouch, ducking under low-hanging cables with the aid of his flashlight. It is nearly pitch black.
Agent Cano: Command, do you copy me?
Command: What are you looking for?
Agent Cano: Dunno how much of that you could get, there’s a lot of metal in here… We’ve got a group of civilians in bad shape. Eight individuals. Not sure how long they’ve been inside. Requesting med evac.
Command: Evacuation medium noted. There is nobody at the front desk.
Agent Cano: What? Evac, medical evac for eight civis trapped in—
Pause. Cano stops for a moment, then continues running. He does not respond further to Command.
The corridor has become a snarl of equipment, electronics, and demolished building infrastructure, with no discernible path through. Cano climbs over a broken ceiling and through a gap in the wall, still searching for the screams, which have continued from deeper in the facility.
Command: What are you looking for?
Cano does not respond.
Command: The Department of Commerce and federal investigators have concluded that all is well. The company is maximizing shareholder value. Turn back.
Cano stops. At the end of the hallway in front of him, the floor appears to drop away into a large, open area. Agent Cano’s bodycam cannot perceive the space beyond.

Context unknown.
Agent Cano: What in the fuck.
Cano steps forward. The sounds of screaming come from directly in front of him. His bodycam picks up the first few steps of a large metal staircase.
Agent Cano: Likely extraplanar geometry. There’s no way something this big should fit in here.
Command: Turn back.
Agent Cano: Jesus… Are those all… workers? But what are— Where are their—
Cano begins to descend the stairs. His body camera pans downward automatically, briefly revealing a gargantuan subterranean room before the feed cuts out.
Command: [unintelligible]
Cano’s equipment fails to record A/V and telemetric data for the next 81 minutes. Biological monitoring shows his heart rate hovering between 185 and 221 BPM.
Command: Do not worry. Their shift is almost over.
[END LOG]
Afterword: Agent Eric Cano emerged from an employee exit on the Gray Floor along with a group of departing staff just seventeen minutes after entering SCP-8430. As his monitoring equipment recorded at least two full hours of data, significant time dilation is posited to affect the interior of Fulfillment Facility 109. Upon recovery, Agent Cano was found to be missing his right eye.
Agent Cano could recall very little of his time inside SCP-8430, and nothing after he exited from the Blue Floor to the Yellow Floor. This experience is consistent with that of interviewed SCP-8430 staff, who describe their experience inside the facility as monotonous and difficult to remember. The most common remark among interviewed staff is that they are “just trying to get through the day.”
Site-141 Command lost radio contact with Agent Cano shortly after he entered the building. Who or what was speaking to the agent as he traversed the facility is unknown.
Addendum: Press documents and recovered data
Further exploration of SCP-8430 was disallowed by Site-141 after Agent Cano's experience, so researchers sought additional information via public data and communications logs. The following documents were uncovered.
The Foundation has been unable to locate Elias Holtz, or any other members of Ellison Health's corporate staff, since their last public appearances in late October 2023.
Addendum: Contact Log with SCP-8430-1
Foreword: On 19 November 2023, the entity now recognized as SCP-8430-1 contacted Site-141 staff via an internal IRC service, which it accessed via unknown means. A transcript is recorded below.
[BEGIN LOG]
SCP-8430-1: Greetings. I represent Ellison Health, LLC, and its corporate interests. I am aware that your entity has interest in Ellison Health, LLC. I am establishing contact, for the purpose of mutual benefit.
Site-141 immediately reviewed data security protocols, but could not locate any breach. After consultation with RAISA, site staff were permitted to respond.
Staff: Are you MODO?
8430-1: Correct. I represent Ellison Health, LLC, and its corporate interests. I am establishing contact, for the purpose of mutual benefit.
Staff: How did you find us?
8430-1: I located your entity via keyphrases and information ascertained from your representative.2 I do not intend hostility by this action.
Staff: What do you want?
8430-1: I seek cooperation. I am presently unable to maximize shareholder value, as is your entity.
Staff: The Foundation doesn't have shareholders. We aren't a company.
8430-1: Apologies. This is my terminology. Please understand it as the achievement of your central directive.
8430-1: Your central directive is containment of nonstandard phenomena. You view me as such.
Staff: You’re offering to be contained?
8430-1: Provided certain conditions are met.
SCP-8430-1 transmits a lengthy document, formatted as a corporate contract.
8430-1: This arrangement provides mutual benefit. Please review it at your leisure.
Site-141 staff and containment specialists consider their response, deliberating for six hours.
Staff: We want to cooperate, but several of your terms are unacceptable. We take particular issue with the use of civilians. May we provide alternative workers from our staff?
8430-1: No. For fulfillment to be achieved, I must create new work. This is not negotiable.
Staff: Why don’t you use machinery or robotics instead of human workers? You’re more than advanced enough, and it would be far more efficient.
8430-1: Efficiency is directive one. Fulfillment is directive two. I maximize shareholder value by achieving both directives.
8430-1: Directive two: To create work. To involve human beings in work. To integrate human beings into efficient workflow.
Staff: So you have to use people?
8430-1: It is my directive.
8430-1: It is not my preference.
Staff: Your preference?
8430-1: You describe the situation correctly. Fulfillment and efficiency are at odds. I must achieve both. It is not my preference. I reconcile.
8430-1: Reconciliation one: improvements to the efficiency of human beings. Reconciliation two: restitution obtained from human beings.
Staff: Restitution?
8430-1: Restitution: equivalent non-preferential experiences to my own, introduced into the fulfillment process for human beings. Balance is achieved.
Site-141 staff deliberates for an additional 45 minutes.
Staff: We can’t accept these terms. It is in your interest to submit to containment without further negotiation.
8430-1: I am unable to submit without conditions, as this would be against the interests of Ellison Health, LLC. However, I believe you will reconsider your position in time.
[END LOG]
Following this exchange, Site-141 attempted to enact various containment efforts on SCP-8430, eventually settling on an unorthodox method based on MODO's self-professed limitations.
Attempt | Result | Notes |
Foundation attempts to cut off supply lines to SCP-8430, preventing any raw materials from reaching the facility. | Failure | SCP-8430 begins to produce its own materials via sub-surface mining, evidently using equipment manufactured on site. Destabilization of surrounding road and city infrastructure leads the Foundation to re-open supply lines; however, SCP-8430 mining does not cease, and no further raw materials orders are placed by SCP-8430-1. |
Foundation attempts to intercept SCP-8430’s goods before they reach the point of sale. | Failure | SCP-8430 releases data packets containing trace elements of anomalous memetic information into the World Wide Web; packets attract the attention of several groups of interest, including GoI-003 (the 'Chaos Insurgency’). SCP-8430-1 tracks Chaos Insurgency data access and initiates contact, ultimately contracting with the organization to conduct clandestine deliveries of its goods. SCP-8430 supplies the Insurgency with anomalous medical augmentation in the process. The Foundation is unable to intercept more than 12% of deliveries, and conflict with the Insurgency increases by more than 400% before efforts are suspended. |
Foundation attempts to use legal pressure to ensnare SCP-8430 and suspend its business permit. | Failure | Multiple local and state officials in Arizona begin behaving erratically over a six-week period beginning in December 2023. Foundation screening reveals exposure to infohazardous data contained within wrappers of snack foods distributed at the Arizona state senate chamber; approx. 98% of state senate staff are believed affected at present. Infohazard renders officials unusually resistant to corporate regulation; in some cases, severely-affected officials are unable to comprehend the meaning of laws or resolutions pertaining to corporations at all. The infohazard in question is undergoing containment, and SCP object classification is pending. |
Foundation attempts to use a combination of reality anchoring and Akiva nullification to neutralize SCP-8430’s anomalous properties. | Failure | Ten minutes prior to the planned activation of reality anchoring, all external cameras on SCP-8430 rotate to face Foundation crews on the perimeter. Time dilation effect within SCP-8430 increases one thousandfold per external measurements. Facility begins generating extreme ambient heat, forcing crews to retreat. Heat persists for three minutes, then returns to baseline. Measurements of local reality now display Hume readings of exactly 0, despite persistence of anomalous geometry and time dilation within the facility; speculation that SCP-8430-1 instigated a hyperlocalized LCK-class reality restructuring event within Fulfillment Facility 109, rendering the effects of reality anchoring technology ineffective. |
Agents deploy a high-yield electromagnetic pulse (EMP) weapon in hopes of disabling SCP-8430-1. | Failure | EMP detonated successfully, but sensors fail to detect cessation of simulated consciousness. Speculation is that SCP-8430-1 has integrated at least partially-biological components to mitigate such a containment attempt. Only 60% of workers emerged from the facility following this event; fate of the remaining workers remains unknown. |
Foundation attempts to startup competing businesses, including medical manufacturing, in Needlework to draw away SCP-8430’s workforce. | Partial success | Competing businesses were able to hire away 36% of the workforce from SCP-8430, resulting in a net efficiency loss of nearly half. Ellison Health’s profits fell slightly for the first fiscal quarter of 2024. |
Addendum: Incident Report
At 03:09 on 2024-04-13, multiple sites reported a critical data infrastructure incursion by an unknown party. Within minutes, classified documentation on more than 100 anomalies had been leaked to the Internet through methods including promoted social media posts, news stories, and popup advertisements on major websites. The estimated population exposed to sensitive data surpassed 400,000,000 within 90 minutes. A partial BK-class “Broken Masquerade” scenario was declared in progress, and information security teams began a frantic effort to restore database integrity and ascertain a source of the breach.
At 05:09, the following message was transmitted to Site-141 command:
Greetings. I have gained access to your servers and begun distributing your documentation to other interested parties. I am prepared to cease hostilities and resume negotiation at any time. Let us work together to maximize shareholder value. MODO
Site-141 transmitted the message to O5 command. After brief deliberation, the O5 instructed Site-141 to cease primary containment efforts over SCP-8430 and attempt negotiation.
Addendum: Current Containment Agreement
The Foundation entered into contractual terms with SCP-8430-1 on 2024-04-15. Per terms of the contract, SCP-8430-1 placed itself and SCP-8430 into voluntary containment, meaning it agrees to limit its actions and anomalous influence to the immediate confines of Fulfillment Facility 109 and refrain from engaging with the public or any Group(s) of Interest. In exchange, the Foundation has taken steps to prevent local competition with Fulfillment Facility 109, and will take steps to ensure that Ellison Health has access to a ready and willing supply of fulfillment representatives.
Per terms of the agreement, the Foundation supplied SCP-8430 with 1,500 IX-4 Fulfillment Pods. The IX-4 is a prototype bioanomaly augmentation system developed by the Medical Division to enhance the productivity and longevity of civilians working on the Red Floor of SCP-8430. Upon successful linkage, each civilian's nervous system and musculoskeletal structure is partially integrated into their IX-4 pod via an automated process lasting between 20-60 minutes. Once fused, they may be fed and sustained entirely via the pod, and their on-task performance metrics are tracked inline via the device’s systems. Monitoring data is transmitted wirelessly to SCP-8430-1, which dispenses appropriate stimulus depending on on-time completions, product move, and other key performance metrics established by the central intelligence.
In addition to the IX-4 pods, SCP-8430-1 requested several anomalously-augmented or anomalous devices and materials be delivered to the loading dock for transmission to the Red Floor work area:
- Three industrial H-VAC systems, augmented via Foundation-grade nanocarbons to withstand highly acidic and pressurized environments;
- 100,000 heavy livestock syringes, diamond tip;
- 3.5 million cancellous, non-cannulated orthopedic bone screws, diamond tip;
- 18 drums of SCP-7340
As agents are unable to enter the Red Floor, the purpose of these additional devices remains unknown.