We do business. We only kicked you around a bit because you shot me in the head, which doesn't really leave a good impression on a guest.
这妖精神通不小，须是比老孙手段大些的，才降得他哩。天神不济，地煞不能，若要拿此妖魔，须是去请观音菩萨才好。
[This demon's got some power, so we need someone stronger than I am. The gods of heaven and earth are useless, so we'll have to get help from the Bodhisattva Guanyin.]
— Sun Wukong, Journey to the West
The following footage excerpt was taken from the "Study" surveillance camera in █████, Futian District, Shenzhen, China, on 1/18/2020. This property is owned by Zhu Jing, who has been suspected to be the leader of a sex-trafficking ring, though no substantial evidence has ever been found against him.
The camera shows the inside of a study. The room is empty. The furniture is ornate and brilliant. Distant chatter, presumably of partygoers, and violin music can be heard.
Zhu: From the hall: Like I said, I'm willing to listen, but the second I'm not interested you're getting kicked out. Got it?
Zhu, SCP-8884-G, and two armed bodyguards enter the study. Zhu sits down at the desk and gestures for SCP-8884-G to take a seat. SCP-8884-G settles into an armchair.
SCP-8884-G: Do you bring in armed guards for every business meeting you have? That can't leave a good impression on investors.
Zhu: Only when three people not on my guest list invade my house and ask to speak to me about a very sensitive topic. You know, with just a few phone calls on my end, your trespassing can turn into a much more serious crime.
SCP-8884-G: Well, I might’ve treated you with a bit more tact if you didn’t make me leave my friends in the lobby.
Zhu: For what possible reason would you need three people in here at once for a business deal?
SCP-8884-G: Don't think too hard about it. But let's stop talking about me and start talking about you, my favorite sex trafficker. Though that list is admittedly-
Zhu: If you're from the police, I'll tell you right now that you're wasting your time.
SCP-8884-G: No, I'm not from the Party. Ever heard of karma?
Zhu: Of course. It's the metric that Buddhists use to-
SCP-8884-G: Yeah, I know what it is too, dipshit. Your karma's getting bad, and I don't think you're gonna stop infringing on human rights anytime soon. But fret not, for I-
Zhu: Are you some sort of religious shill?
SCP-8884-G: Religious, yes.
SCP-8884-G begins glowing. Many golden, translucent arms fan out behind her. Translucent heads grow atop her current one, each facing a different direction.
SCP-8884-G: With karma that low, bad things tend to happen. It's exponential, like debt. Usually means death in a month, a few months if you're—
Zhu: Shoot her.
The guards shoot SCP-8884-G in the head. Blood and gore splatter onto the bookshelf behind it.
Zhu: Now find the two guys she came with.
The guards leave.
The following footage excerpt was taken from the "Basement" security camera.
The only people in view are two humanoid entities lounging on couches, henceforth referred to as SCP-8884-R and SCP-8884-S. SCP-8884-R appears White, while SCP-8884-S appears Middle-Eastern.
SCP-8884-R: Tariq, bestie, it's called a "cupcake" for a reason. Cup. Cake. It's a cake in a cup. Like, let's be so for real for a second here.
SCP-8884-S: Well, Google says otherwise. "The name 'cupcake' comes from from the measurements originally used to make them: one cup of butter, two cups-"
A vibrating sound can be heard. The two men look at their watches, which are now displaying a red, flashing message. SCP-8884-R groans.
SCP-8884-R: God damn it. I was planning on clubbing in this outfit later! And now there's gonna be blood all over it.
The two men run up the stairs.
Vivian woke up from death the way she usually did: coughing and sputtering with an awful headache.
"Viv, you good?" Archie said. He was holding a willow branch, having just used it to flick dew onto her from the vase in his other hand. Archie put the branch back into the vase and returned it to Vivian.
"If you consider 'freshly trepanned caveman' to be good," Vivian muttered. She shrunk the vase and put it back into her suit pocket. "How's it looking?"
"Tariq's currently handling—well, considering how much time has passed, he's probably already handled the two guards. Our job now is to track down that 'Zoo' guy."
"It's pronounced 'Zhu.' Like 'Jew,' as in someone Jewish." Vivian was currently rubbing her temples in an attempt to soothe the pounding in her skull.
"Really?" Archie said. "See, that's why you're the one talking to him, not me."
Guests had already noticed something was up. When Vivian exited the study, a woman running as fast as her heels would allow almost crashed into her. Sounds of screaming and shouting filled the hallways.
"It's bloody loud," Archie said, "but do you think you can find where Zhu is?"
"Have some confidence, will you?" Vivian said.
She enhanced her hearing and listened, sifting through the cries for help, the 1-1-0 emergency calls, and the sounds of hurried footsteps as she tried to identify Zhu's voice amidst the crowd.
"Found him," Vivian said. "Fifth floor, guest bedroom. He's currently calling for more guards. We need-"
"One sec, bestie," Archie said. He took out a baseball-sized piece of metal and clicked it. It unfolded into a full-length rifle in his hands. "There's a couple people turning the corner."
"Shoot them in their legs or something," Vivian said. She was already walking towards the stairs. "I don't need another lecture from The Manager about our brand image."
Archie started glowing a deep, forest green. He closed one eye and raised his rifle with unerring steadiness, letting out exactly three bullets as three security guards came into view. The bullets tore straight through their thighs, incapacitating them instantly.
"You always do that so fast," Vivian said when Archie caught up with her.
"Well," Archie said, "Robin Hood likes stealing from the rich."1
The following footage excerpt was taken from the "Living Room" security camera.
The room is in disarray. The paintings on the walls have been torn, the windows have been shattered, and the upholstery has been ripped. The sounds of music and conversation are gone.
Zhu is sitting on a couch, head in his hands. His face is bruised and bloodied. SCP-8884-G, SCP-8884-R, and SCP-8884-S stand before him. SCP-8884-G is currently using its phone camera as a mirror as it wipes blood off of its face. SCP-8884-R and SCP-8884-S are both pointing guns at Zhu.
SCP-8884-G: Have you changed your mind for, I don't know, no particular reason?
Zhu: I don't really have a choice here.
SCP-8884-G: No, you do. We're not mugging you or anything. We do business. If you don't want to pay, we'll just leave and let your karma spiral. We kicked you around a bit because you shot me in the head, which doesn't really leave a good impression on a guest. And also because you're a sex trafficker. You'd be in much worse shape if my manager didn't forbid murder and torture against paying clients. Wait, you're not willing to pay, right? Totally unwilling to pay, right? You definitely-
Zhu: And how much did you want?
SCP-8884-S: Five hundred million US dollars.
Zhu: It'll be transferred to your account tomorrow. Just get out of my house.
SCP-8884-G: Coward.
SCP-8884-G spits at Zhu's feet.
Extraneous dialogue removed. SCP-8884-1 instances exit the premises.
Shenzhen had a shockingly large amount of fancy French restaurants, probably because of all the business meetings. It was apparently tradition for the backups to take the negotiator out for dinner after a good deal, which was why Vivian was currently looking to order the most expensive thing on the menu.
"So," Tariq said, "How'd it go?"
"Tariq, bestie," Archie said, "she got a bullet put through her skull."
"I was trying to find a polite way to start the conversation," Tariq said.
"It went fine," Vivian said, "all things considered. We got the money in the end, and that's all that matters."
"Isn't The Manager always telling you about how you shouldn't be unneccesarily rude?"
"Well, he can keep telling me. I don't give a fuck." Vivian took a deep sigh. "I don't give enough of a shit anymore to hang on to his every word."
"Alright," Tariq said. "Let's start figuring out what we're ordering. Viv, you wanna try their filet mignon? I've heard it's really good."
"I'm fine," Vivian said. She remembered hands guiding her through a sawing motion. "I don't really like steak."
"If you say so," Tariq said.
For some reason, Archie was staring at her with a very concerned expression. When Vivian met his gaze, he looked away.
Vivian was lying in her dorm trying to cope with her headache when she decided to reminisce.
She did this often after getting revived, and one memory frequently came to her mind. It was late spring, roughly a month before she’d gotten injected with divinity. Hana had just had a successful performance at a very large concert hall, and she invited Vivian to a restaurant to celebrate. Their food had arrived: steak for Hana, seafood pasta for Vivian.
"Why are you thanking me?" Vivian said. "You were the one playing the violin.”
"Yes, I don't think I hallucinated you playing the instrument," Hana said. "But I wouldn't have been up there if you didn’t you convince me that stage fright gets better once you start performing." She put a piece of steak into her mouth.
"I don't understand why you always take my advice," Vivian said. "I'm not, like, a fucking philosopher or something. You have no reason to be listening to me."
"Really? I had no clue. I was under the impression you were the granddaughter of Confucius," Hana said. "But jokes aside. Because of that concert, there's at least one good reason for me to trust you now, isn't there?"
"Guess so," Vivian said.
They ate in comfortable silence for a while.
"Hey," Hana said, "didn't you say you've never had steak at a restaurant?"
"Not that I can remember, at least. I tried a piece once and I didn't like it."
"Oh, this place has amazing filet mignon. Trust me. Here, let's swap plates."
Vivian was awkward at best with a fork and knife, so Hana got up and guided her hands through the motions. Eventually, Vivian managed to saw off a piece, which she hesitantly put it into her mouth. She chewed in silence.
"Wow," Vivian said. "This is really nice."
"See?" Hana said. "I told you, right?" She smiled; a big, brilliant smile.
Vivian often wondered if somewhere out there, Hana was also thinking of her.
Special Containment Procedures: Due to its own secrecy protocols, SCP-8884 does not need to be significantly contained. Foundation webcrawlers are to monitor security footage for evidence of SCP-8884 operations using standard antimemetic precautions. Any new information obtained from footage is to be immediately reported to the Department of Tactical Theology. All information regarding Vivian Qian and the Bodhisattva Guanyin are to be monitored for suspicious activity. Any reports of SCP-8884 activity from persons in front of the veil are to be met with standard amnesticization procedures.
Logo of the Samsara Credit Solutions Agency
Description: SCP-8884 is the Samsara Credit Solutions Agency. Though this company does not exist on public records, entities loosely resembling various religious or semi-historical figures (henceforth referred to as SCP-8884-1) will claim to represent SCP-8884. They will manifest next to those who have performed actions deemed by general society as "unvirtuous” (henceforth referred to as SCP-8884-2).
SCP-8884-1 will inform SCP-8884-2 that SCP-8884-2 has accrued a form of "karmic debt." They will urge SCP-8884-2 to pay money in exchange for the "forgiveness" of their karma. The requested amount has been recorded to range from $500,000 to $30,000,000,000. Instructions for payment will usually take the form of burning cash or making virtual payments to a nonexistent bank account.2
SCP-8884-G, an SCP-8884-1 instance with powers resembling the Bodhisattva Guanyin, is previously non-anomalous 23 year-old Vivian Qian.
Picture posted to Vivian Qian's Instagram account on 9/15/2018
11/12/2018
"Apparently, yeah," Vivian said. "Because what would I do in my free time if not write fucking supplemental essays?"
Vivian and Hana were at the park, seated on a blanket underneath the shade of a large tree.
"I'm not gonna go all guidance counselor," Hana said, "but maybe you should just do a few more to get your parents off your ass.” She watched a group of kids play with a frisbee in the distance.
"Fuck no," Vivian said. "They'll be insufferable if I ever actually listen to them. If I cave, they’ll think that yelling at me works, and I'll never have a moment of fucking peace again.”
Hana looked away and sighed. "If you say so," she said.
"Hey, I don't want to talk about any of this depressing shit," Vivian said. "How'd you do on that last comp-religion test?"
"Fine."
"You got at least a ninety-five, didn't you?"
"Ninety-three," Hana said. "How'd you do?"
"Seventy-one. I heard the teacher harping on about you. Talking about how you approach him all studious and shit."
"I thought we agreed to keep school out of our conversations," Hana said. "Hey, did you watch the video I sent of a guy making pasta with, like, six-hundred eggs?"
Discovery: On 3/29/2020 SCP-8884-G manifested at a Site-██ conference room.
Standard unknown POI protocol is underway. Members of Eta-77 "Spheres Within Spheres" stand with weapons around SCP-8884-G, who is seated in a conference room. The room is completely silent.
SCP-8884-G: So. Seen any good shows lately?
Silence.
SCP-8884-G: Oh, c'mon. Hey. Hana.
Agent Hana Kyeon turns to look at SCP-8884-G, but stays silent.
SCP-8884-G: It's been a while. Can't we just catch up? How's shit been going? Got a PhD or something?
Silence.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Captain, permission to talk?
Eta-77 Donley nods.
Eta-77 Kyeon: You're asking me what's been going on?
SCP-8884-G: Well, what I've been doing is … what is it you guys say? "It's classified?" Yeah, it's classified. Totally classified. So classified I shouldn't even be telling you it's classified.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Everyone thought you were dead. Everyone thinks you're dead.
SCP-8884-G: And so what? I'm here, aren't I? All's well that ends well, or whatever those old white fuckers say?
Eta-77 Kyeon: They held a memorial for you. Do you know that? They put up your picture and burned incense and everything. Your parents even came. They didn't cry, though I don't think you would've cared either way. But yes, I'm so glad you've showed up here today to try and scam us out of money.
Silence.
SCP-8884-G: What makes you think I'd do that?
Eta-77 Kyeon: There's over a hundred Foundation sites out there, and you just happen to stumble upon the one I'm working at?
SCP-8884-G:, Well, The Manager's orders don't have to be my only reason to come here. Look, with what I'm doing, sometimes you gotta take what you can get, so-
The site director opens the door, interrupting the conversation.
A deal was not reached with SCP-8884-G. SCP-8884-1 instances warned of possible consequences before they demanifested. The Department of Tactical Theology is currently monitoring for any possible related phenomena in the future.
Agent Hana Kyeon, 2024
05/20/2019
"No, I don't know what I'm doing today," Vivian said. "I'm still processing all the shit that's happened. Give me some time."
"I'm aware," Hana said, "but look. Lying around in my house all day isn't going to solve your problems."
"Yeah, thanks, I'll just 'stop being depressed.' Why didn't I fucking think of that? I'm not one of your research questions, Hana. You can't solve me with evidence and APA citations."
Hana took a deep sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You're stretching my patience here," Hana said. "I'll tell you this again, whether you like to hear it or not. You have a perfectly clear path ahead of you. Go home, apologize to your parents, and either go to community college or take a gap year."
"I'm not gonna grovel in front of the two pieces of shit that ruined my life," Vivian said. She sat up on the couch and glared at Hana. "And how the fuck would you know, smartass? You get into Yale and you think that gives you the right to order me around? Like you're the empress of-"
"Chill out! Jesus Christ!"
They both paused. Hana walked to the dinner table and sat down in front of Vivian with a sigh.
"Ok. Let's do some of that open communication I've heard about," Hana said. "Go buy some ice cream or watch a movie or something. We're both stressed and confused, and sitting here yelling at each other won't change that."
Vivian nodded. She put on her shoes and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
05/23/2019
"I've seen you wear a suit and tie like fifty times for your concerts and award ceremonies and whatever," Vivian said. "How do you not know how to tie a tie?”
"I apologize for not memorizing an action I perform once every six months," Hana said. "And besides, no one knows how to tie a tie. It's one of the most searched questions on Google. Just type in 'how to' and autosuggest gives it to you."
Vivian's job interview was in thirty minutes. Driving there would take fifteen. Hana was currently ironing out the dress pants Vivian had haphazardly shoved into her drawers several months ago.
Vivian had been procrastinating returning to her house. But all she'd taken with her was cash and her backpack, and she needed new clothes in general, not just business attire.
When she went back, all her mother had said was "make it quick.”
Hana finished ironing the dress pants. She told Vivian to wait for them to cool before putting them on. Vivian checked her makeup again in the mirror.
"You want me to drive you?" Hana asked.
"I'll be fine," Vivian said.
Agent Hana Kyeon of MTF Eta-77 "Spheres Within Spheres," who was present for negotiations between SCP-8884-G and the Foundation, claimed to recognize SCP-8884-G, because she had attended the same high school as Qian. The info she provided regarding Qian has been deemed extraneous.
05/23/2019
"This interview is at a restaurant," the man said, "because you've pretty much already gotten the job. I called you here to convince you to join." He poured maple syrup atop his waffles.
Vivian had never worked a job before, but from what she'd heard, job interviews typically didn't take place at Silver Diners. She hadn’t touched the plate of pasta she’d ordered.
The man was tall and White, with a slight accent (Italian, if Vivian had to guess) and stubble on his chin. Vivian thought he looked like the type of person to make business videos about the importance of networking. She could've sworn that he was emitting a faint glow.
"First question," the man said. "You're agnostic, right?"
"Yeah. How do you know that?"
"I'll get to that later. Now, what's your stance on religious blasphemy?"
"Do people usually have stances on that? I’m fine with it, I guess."
"Then say something sacreligious."
Weirdest job interview I’ve ever heard of.
Vivian made a mock praying motion with her hands and closed her eyes. "Hey, God. Both you and Jesus can suck my fat fucking cock."
The man laughed. "Great," he said. "Now, how do you feel about a hundred-thousand dollars a year?"
"Jesus Christ."
"What's he got to do with it?"
"No, like, that's a lot of money."
"Oh, it is. And you'll get it if you join the Agency."
"What's the catch?"
"You can never talk to anyone from your current life again."
"Alright then. When do I start?"
"Pretty soon. But I've gotta finish these waffles first before I inject you with divinity."
Qian was reported missing on 5/24/2019. Her missing persons case uncovered no leads, and no evidence of her body was ever found. Current information indicates it is highly likely that SCP-8884-G either is Vivian Qian or is inhabiting Qian's body.
SCP-8884-G demanifested before it could be contained and interrogated. Forensic staff were dispatched to investigate the "Samsara Credit Solutions Agency."
The following footage excerpt was taken from an indoor surveillance camera in █████, █████ Rd, Los Angeles, California, on 4/18/2024. This property is known to be a prominent meeting place for Neo-Sarkicists.
SCP-8884-G, SCP-8884-R, and SCP-8884-S are sitting on a couch facing a man in robes. Several cloaked figures surround them on all sides.
SCP-8884-G: Hey, y'know, I respect all religions. But, like, the human experimentation part. Are you…open to constructive criticism, by any chance?
The camera shows a hallway. Shouting and gunfire can be heard in the distance.
SCP-8884-G, SCP-8884-R, and SCP-8884-S sprint into view.
SCP-8884-G: Jesus. There's still seven of the fuckers nearby.
SCP-8884-S: Keep running, and I'll focus on getting us out.
The SCP-8884-1 instances sprint out of view. A few seconds later, an unknown entity moves into view of the camera. It resembles a misshapen blob of throbbing flesh, covered with eyes and mouths. It roars as it runs down the hallway at a shockingly fast pace.
Never, Vivian thought, never again will I let The Manager assign me to collect money from fucking Sarkicists.
Vivian perceived distant roars coming from further down the hallway.
"Something's about to run straight into us!" Vivian yelled. "Figure something out and do it fast."
"I'll try to smash our way through," Tariq said, "but we'll have to stop right here. Archie, can you make sure the one behind us doesn't become a problem?"
"Say less," Archie said.
A flesh monster appeared in front of them. This one was thin and sinewy, with several appendages that looked like knives. It moved in quick, jerky motions. The three agents ground to a halt.
"Set can handle this," Tariq said. The bags around his waist loosened by themselves as sand began streaming out of them. Within less than a second, the hallway was filled with a raging sandstorm. The dust avoided Vivian and Archie, giving them space to move and breath.
Tariq stepped into the sandstorm and vanished within the dust. The monster in front of them twitched its head, trying to look for him amid the sand.
Tariq materialized behind it and blasted it point-blank with a bullpup shotgun.
The monster roared as it staggered backwards. It swung at Tariq, but the place where he stood now contained nothing but sand.
Tariq appeared behind the monster again, unloading buckshot into the its back. The creature swung around inhumanly fast, but when it cut into Tariq, his body collapsed into dust.
Archie turned around, took out his rifle, and began glowing green. He closed one eye and let loose several bullets. Roars of pain emanated from the direction he was shooting.
Within a few seconds, the sand had cleared, and the monster in front of them was now nothing more than a puddle of gore in the hallway. The still-twitching corpse of another laid behind them. Archie grinned.
Tariq remained expressionless. He stepped through the viscera, making squelching noises with his shoes as he reloaded his shotgun.
"Let's go," Tariq said, "there's still more coming."
"Hold still, Vivian. Hold still!"
Vivian was currently in the medbay at the Agency's headquarters. The Manager was standing in the room, overseeing the whole operation. Archie and Tariq were holding her steady while their medic was pouring a strange acid over the throbbing flesh infection on her leg. He was channeling Asclepius' powers to heal her, which seemed to be making the already very painful treatment hurt even more.
Vivian had discovered a pulsing wound on her shin when the adrenaline wore off. They'd skipped the flight and teleported her straight back to headquarters. Teleportation was expensive, but she definitely wasn't complaining.
In fact, Vivian was finding it hard to complain about much of anything, considering the horrible blinding pain currently shooting through her body. Archie had to put his whole body weight on her leg to stop it from shaking.
"Please hold still," the medic said. "If this gets on your skin, it'll sear it off."
"I'm sure that would hurt less than whatever the fuck this is!"
"It probably would."
Archie and The Manager helped Vivian limp back to her dorm. They looped her arms around their shoulders until she managed to collapse onto her bed.
"Bestie," Archie said, "how are we feeling?"
"Now that that fucker's not pouring hellfire over my leg? A lot better."
The Manager chuckled. "Glad to hear it," he said. "I'll keep your schedule free for the next week. Get some rest, watch some trashy TV, anything of that sort. Let me know if I can help you."
Vivian thanked The Manager as he walked out of the door.
"Hey,” Archie said, "this might not be a good time, but can I talk to you for a sec?"
"Go for it, I guess."
"I think you should quit."
They sat in silence for a while.
"Are you joking?" Vivian said.
"No, I'm serious. Look, I've seen some of your old news articles. Your loved ones have spent a shit ton of time and money looking for you. They want you back.”
Archie paused, waiting for a response. Vivian didn’t give him one.
"And besides,” he continued, "I can see you starting to hate this job. You avoid the manager like the plague when he's looking for agents."
"Whether or not I like this job doesn’t matter,” Vivian replied. "Not a ton of jobs out there that want experience in extortion, and my friends and family think I've been kidnapped or something. What should I do? Tell them I ditched them on purpose for money? They'd fucking hate me."
"I wouldn't assume that so readily. These are people who've been searching for you for five years. I think they'd rather be mad with you than lonely without you."
"And how the fuck would you know? Have you met them before? I don't think so. So get out of my business and leave me alone."
Archie was wearing an expression Vivian had never seen on him before, somewhere between anger, sadness, and pity.
"Alright then. Good night," he said. He left the room.
That night, Vivian dreamed of a woman in a long, flowing white dress. A servant holding a stick attended to the woman. The two of them were riding a cloud, traversing through the sky. Suddenly, beams of light pierced through the heavens, creating brilliant bars of radiance.
"Teacher," the servant said, "that must be the Mountain of Five Phases."
"If so," the woman said, "this must be where the Great Sage Equal to Heaven is imprisoned."
The woman proceeded to recite a poem.
I have regret for the ape that doesn't know the law,
Who let loose heroics in years past.
His ego inflated, he wrecked the Peach Banquet…
Vivian's attention started drifting off. By the time she was listening to the woman again, she had finished her poem.
Now trapped by Tathagata,3
When will he show his power once more?
A voice below them shouted, "who the hell is talking shit behind my back?"
The woman and her servant flew to the ground. They landed at the base of the mountain, next to what seemed to be a furry head sticking out of the stone.
"Sun," the woman said, "do you recognize me?"
"How could I not?" Sun Wukong said. "The Mighty Deliverer, the Great Compassionate Bodhisattva Guanyin from the Potalaka Mountain of the South Sea. Thank you for coming to see me! Really, every day here feels like a goddamn year. Where'd you get the idea to visit?
"The Buddha told me to find a scripture pilgrim," Guanyin said. "Since I was passing by, I stopped to see you."
"That bastard Buddha tricked me!" Sun Wukong said. "I haven't been able to move for five hundred years. Would you please show a little mercy and get me outta here?"
"You have a lot of sinful karma," Guanyin said. "If I free you, I fear that you will go back to violence."
"I won't! Promise! I've been reflecting for the last … five-hundred years or so. Please, show me the proper path, because I'm willing to improve myself and all that. People change, right? People and stone demon monkeys?"
Guanyin looked very pleased. "Yes," she said, "they do change."
She turned around to stare straight at Vivian. She smiled a soothing, gentle smile, and Vivian woke up to the blaring sound of her phone alarm.
Addendum 05/07/2024: Below is a transcription of security camera footage from Agent Hana Kyeon's apartment, beginning at 11:51PM on 5/6/2024
Eta-77 Kyeon is lying on her couch, scrolling on her phone. She is still in her work clothes, and looks visibly fatigued.
There is a knock on her door. Kyeon puts down her phone. The knocking gradually becomes faster.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Coming!
The knocking continues incessantly until Kyeon opens the door. SCP-8884-G is standing in front of her. It is wearing a dissheveled pantsuit, and its hair is noticeably messy. It appears to be out of breath.
SCP-8884-G: Hey, sorry about showing up all of a sudden, but I really need your help right now. Please? I’m really sorry, but it’s just that-
Eta-77 Kyeon: Why the hell are you here?
SCP-8884-G: Look, can you just let me in first? I don't like being out in the open right now.
SCP-8884-G enters Eta-77 Kyeon's apartment.
SCP-8884-G: And please lock the door.
Eta-77 Kyeon closes and locks the door.
SCP-8884-G: Hey, is this place warded?
Eta-77 Kyeon: Against thaumaturgy? Yeah.
Eta-77 Kyeon takes a deep breath.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Look, whatever you have to say, say it fast. Keep in mind that I'm required to have security cameras in my house, and if I don't want to become a footnote in the amnestics records, I will have to turn in this footage after we wrap up whatever the hell you have going on.
SCP-8884-G: Ha. By the time you do that, I'll either be free or I'll be dead. You have our company on file somewhere, right? You know how we work?
Eta-77 Kyeon: Yeah, roughly.
SCP-8884-G: Do you know about The Manager?
Eta-77 Kyeon: The Manager?
SCP-8884-G: We call him The Manager because we only have one. Virtually all the money I extort goes to him, but I still get paid a shit ton every year, so I never had a problem with it. Today, one of our marks offered me a deal in private. We were extorting him for drug trafficking, but I discovered he was running a billion-dollar corruption scheme as well.
Eta-77 Kyeon: And why exactly is that important?
SCP-8884-G: The corruption would've jacked up our extortion rate by a few billion dollars. He offered to pay me a couple million extra on the side if I would keep quiet about the whole corruption thing. Look, everyone tells me not to lie to The Manager, and I thought that was bullshit, because I've lied to him about small things like signing forms and taking out the trash all the time, and he's never called me out on it. This time, he somehow found out before we even got back to the HQ.
Silence.
SCP-8884-G: The Manager is usually alright. Good benefits, great pay, listens to your suggestions. But when The Manager found out a guy didn't follow protocol and lied to him about it once, he called us all to a meeting. He invited the guy up onto the stage, and … actually, I don’t really wanna think about that. Let's move on.
Eta-77 Kyeon: How do you know The Manager found out?
SCP-8884-G: My weird hearing ability. The Manager was rambling about some insane shit. I don't know how he found out before I even got back, but he was already talking to people about what I did and telling them to "get ready for cleanup." Not exactly a … promising thing to hear.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Alright, then. What the hell do you want me to do about it? Are you asking me to call in a nuclear strike or something?
Silence.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I haven’t seen you for years, and you come back for … It's just been a stressful month. What do you want me to do?
SCP-8884-G: Take me to the Foundation. You work for the Department of Tactical Theology, right? You have experience killing gods?
Eta-77 Kyeon: In a sense, yes. But we say that "if you can kill it, it isn't a god."
SCP-8884-G: Well, you’ll get to test that theory firsthand. Just let me talk to whoever pays your bills.
Eta-77 Kyeon: I wasn't aware you'd turned into my drill sergeant. Since when do I take orders from you?
SCP-8884-G: Didn't you say you've had a stressful month? Well, I think we both know where that comes from. You never ended up paying us, right?
Eta-77 Kyeon: The DOTT has very good anti-Akiva protocols that prevent divine retribution.
SCP-8884-G: And that's probably been shielding you from the brunt of it. Most of your department would be in deep, deep shit right now without something like that. But tell me if this sounds familiar. Relatively minor injuries quickly turn into major problems? Your targets always seem to know you're coming? Containment breaches always seem to happen when the right person to handle it isn't around?
Eta-77 Kyeon: If you're trying to extort me, you're not doing a good job at it.
SCP-8884-G: What? No! I couldn't fix your karma even if I wanted to right now! And I do want to! Look, we have a—what's the fucking word—a mutual interest here. Bad karma, or at least the bastardized version of it that we peddle, is like debt. It gets worse exponentially. Wait a bit longer, and your whole department's gonna be fucked.
Silence.
SCP-8884-G: Please?
Eta-77 Kyeon sighs.
Eta-77 Kyeon: My car's parked outside.
At 12:23 AM, Agent Hana Kyeon reported this incident to the Department of Tactical Theology. SCP-8884-G, who accompanied her upon arrival, was placed under foundation supervision.
Eta-77's Captain Donley gave the initial interview.
Eta-77 Donley: Yeah, well I'm still a bit confused. What exactly would raiding your HQ accomplish?
SCP-8884-G: Turning off the machine in the basement will fix your karma. Probably. That thing gives us powers, does all the magical bullshit.
Eta-77 Donley: And how do you know this?
SCP-8884-G: I lost my abilities were when the power went out. I’m part of the debt collection department, but our organization lends karma in exchange for money too. Whenever the power goes out, our karma borrowers visit us to make sure that the machine's working again.
Eta-77 Donley: So you want us to breach your HQ and turn off the machine?
SCP-8884-G: Well, it's a mutual interest, isn't it? The Agency loses their magical bullshit so they can't chase me down, and your karma debt gets fixed.
Eta-77 Donley: Huh. I'll see what I can do.
05/07/2024, 1:35 AM
"And now we wait for Decomm to get back to us," Hana said. "They’ll probably approve it by tomorrow.” The containment site actually did have sleeping quarters, often used by researchers working on particularly intensive projects. The DOTT had lent Vivian one such room for the night.
The sleeping quarters reminded Vivian of the dorms from pre-college summer programs. A small bed, a desk, and a closet, all beige colored, surrounded by whitewashed cinderblock walls.
Vivian hadn't taken anything with her except for her phone and her wallet. Hana had come in to bring her toiletries, a phone charger, and a change of clothes.
"The shower's down the hall," Hana said.
"Thanks."
Hana turned around as if to leave, but decided against it. She closed the door, pulled up a chair, and sat facing Vivian instead. Vivian’s heart dropped into the bottom of her stomach.
"Five years," Hana said.
"I'm sorry," Vivian said, "but I really can't have this conversation right now."
"And when should we have it?" Hana said. "Is there a 'Having Necessary Conversations Day' in a few weeks that I was unaware of?
"Hana, just stop. Like, I get it. I did something shitty. Sorry, I guess. I don't have anything else to say about it."
"I'm not looking for you to say anything. I just want … honestly, I don't even know. I just want an explanation, I guess? I don’t even know anymore.”
"Well, I don't have one. Anything I say is just going to piss you off even more."
There was a long period of silence. Hana sighed.
"Let’s change the topic,” Vivian said. "Why did the guards get all pissy when I tried to go outside?”
"This site is warded,” Hana said. "Considering what you said about The Manager, we assumed he has an info-gathering thing going on. Kinda defeats the point of a surprise operation if he knows we're coming, so the wards will stop him from hearing us, as long as you're not in the bathrooms."
"The bathrooms?"
"There was an incident a year ago involving creatures coming out of the drains, and that tampered with the wards in all the bathrooms. But it’s not something you need to worry about.”
The following audio was taken from a recording device somewhat in proximity to the bathrooms. This dialogue was only discovered after the operation against SCP-8884 by dramatically enhancing the audio, and is posted here for records-keeping purposes.
Two minutes prior to this audio, cameras recorded SCP-8884-G entering the bathroom.
Of note is the fact that it did not appear to have its phone.
SCP-8884-G: Hey. Yeah, I’m fine.
SCP-8884-G pauses.
SCP-8884-G: Yeah, yeah, I know, gotta get ready for tomorrow night. Important operation and all that.
SCP-8884-G pauses.
SCP-8884-G: Alright. Cool talking to you.
Ten seconds later, SCP-8884-G is recorded leaving the bathroom.
Vivian dreamed of Guanyin.
The bodhisattva was sitting at her home in the South Sea. A tranquil, endless ocean stretched out around her. She was there with Sun Wukong, who was currently trying to pick up her porcelain vase off the back of a tortoise.
"You monkey,” Guanyin said, "all you know how to do is run your mouth. If you can’t even pick up a vase, how do you expect to vanquish evil?”
"Hey, cut me some slack here!” Sun Wukong exclaimed. "My master’s been getting captured nonstop for, like, years, and I just got my ass burnt three times in a row by that Red Boy bastard! Normally, I’d be able to pick this up no problem!” Indeed, there was a faint aroma of smoke, and Wukong’s hairs were singed at the tips.
"The vase is heavy,” Guanyin said, "because it has collected an oceanful of water.” She walked over and picked it up effortlessly.
"Wukong,” she continued, "not only can the sweet dew in my vase heal wounds and revive the dead, it can also extinguish the samādhi fire of the monster-spirit. I want you to take it, but you cannot pick up the vase. I want the Dragon Girl Skilled in Wealth to go with you, but I fear that you still harbor some mischief. When you see what a treasure my immaculate vase is, you will try to steal it. If you succeed, when would I find time to chase you down? You’d better leave something behind as collateral.”
Sun Wukong was very visibly offended.
"The hell are you so suspicious for?” he said. "Besides, all I’ve got are my clothes, my rod, and the golden hoop ‘round my head. There’s shit-all I can give for collateral. Unless you wanna take off my hoop?" He pointed to the golden circlet around his head, given to his master by Guanyin, his tightening control mechanism that he couldn’t remove.
"Smug, aren't you?” Guanyin said. "I feared as much. It seems that I have no choice but to come help you myself.”
Guanyin, her servant, and Sun Wukong boarded a cloud and left the South Sea. On their journey, Guanyin borrowed thirty-six "Swords of Constellations” from the Devarāja Li. She transformed them into a lotus platform, reminiscent to the one she’d been sitting on in the south sea.
"What, are you afraid to take the real platform with you?” Wukong asked.
"You will see in due time,” Guanyin said.
The three of them stopped above a mountain. Guanyin summoned the local deities and mountain gods, and ordered them to evacuate every living creature within a three-hundred mile radius. She then proceeded to empty her vase.
An ocean’s worth of water cascaded onto the mountain, flooding everything nearby until the scenery resembled Guanyin’s home in the South Sea: nothing but tranquil water for miles.
Guanyin used the willow branch and dew in her vase to paint the character for "delusion” on Wukong’s hand.
"Go provoke battle with the monster-spirit,” she said. "Let him defeat you and chase you back here. I have a plan to subdue him.”
Sun Wukong did just that. He went off to the monster’s lair and lured out the Red Boy. When the monster chased Wukong back to the newly created ocean, the Monkey King slipped into Guanyin’s divine aura and disappeared.
"You!” the Red Boy shouted, pointing at Guanyin. "The hell are you doing here? Did you come here to help that monkey?”
Guanyin did not respond. The Red Boy thrust his lance at her, and she promptly disappeared in a burst of light.
The Red Boy paused before laughing, shouting out several insults and jeers at Guanyin, making fun of her for running away. He took a seat on the lotus platform she left behind.
Meanwhile, hidden in the clouds, Wukong and Guanyin watched him.
"Wukong,” Guanyin said, "what are you mumbling about?”
"Mumbling?” Wukong said. "I’m saying that he stole your damn lotus platform! Look at it! It’s under his ass right now! You think he’s gonna give it back when he’s done?
"It’s part of the plan.”
"Well, I’m just saying. To me, it seems like the seat fits him better than it fits you.”
"Hush. Stop talking.”
Guanyin muttered the word "withdraw.” The lotus reverted back to its true form, the thirty-six razor-sharp Swords of Constellations, all of which promptly impaled the Red Boy.
The monster-spirit cried out in pain. He dropped his lance and began frantically trying to pry the swords out of his body. Guanyin recited another spell, and the swords turned into hooks that dug into his flesh.
The bodhisattva revealed herself, resplendent in glory as thousands of hands fanned out behind her.
"Bodhisattva!” the Red Boy cried. "Your disciple has acted blindly and foolishly! I beg you to show mercy and spare me!
"Are you willing to join me?” Guanyin said.
"Yes, I’ll do it!”
"Are you willing to receive my commandments?”
"Yes, as long as you let me go!”
Guanyin took out a golden razor from her sleeve and shaved the boy’s head.
"From now on,” Guanyin said, "I'll be holding you up to high standards. You will now be called the Boy Skilled in Wealth. How’s that?”
The Red Boy nodded, tears still in his eyes.
Guanyin waved her hand, and the Swords of Constellations dropped to the ground. The Red Boy was healed without a single scar.
However, it seemed that he had not entirely learned his lesson, for almost instantly he picked up his lance again and charged towards Guanyin.
Wukong moved to block the Red Boy with his staff, but Guanyin motioned for him to step aside. She took out a golden band, much like the one Wukong was currently wearing. It split into five rings. Four of them wrapped around the Red Boy’s hands and feet, while the last one enveloped his head.
Wukong watched with the glee that comes from seeing others experience the pain you go through, as Guanyin recited a spell that clasped the Red Boy’s legs and arms together. Soon, Red Boy was nothing but a struggling bundle of limbs on the ground.
"Wukong, this monster-spirit has been vanquished,” Guanyin said, "but he still needs to receive further education. I will take him back to the South Sea to make sure he learns his lesson."
"Hey," Wukong said, "that was kinda violent, no? Aren't you the bodhisattva of compassion or something?"
"Sometimes, harsh actions are needed to enact true kindness. Red Boy will be much more at peace after he begins following the Eightfold Path. But for now, why don’t you go rescue your master?”
Sun Wukong thanked her and left. Guanyin turned around to face Vivian.
"As for you," she said, "I unfortunately cannot help you yet. But all things work out as they should, in the end." Vivian, yet again, woke up to the blaring of her phone alarm.
UPDATE: After deliberation, the Decommissioning Department has given Eta-77 "Spheres Within Spheres" permission to neutralize SCP-8884.
Decommissioning Team: Mobile Task Force Eta-77 "Spheres Within Spheres"
Subject: SCP-8884
Team Lead: Eta-77 Donley
Team Members: Eta-77 Perez / Eta-77 Vedantam / Eta-77 Huang / Eta-77 Kyeon / Eta-77 Romano / Eta-77 Taylor / SCP-8884-G
SCP-8884-G provided an address for the headquarters of SCP-8884. SCP-8884-G was equipped with radio communications. Other team members were given standard Eta-77 equipment, as well as permission to employ "REVIVAL."
05/08/2024, 2:37 AM
Vivian had seen special operations agents before, and they looked nothing like Eta-77. Instead of night vision goggles, gas masks, and kevlar vests, the Eta-77 agents were dressed only in suits. they carried bags of seashells, japamalas,4 arrows, various scriptures, ashes, incense, and monastery bells, among dozens of other things that Vivian couldn't recognize.
They all still had guns though. She guessed that sometimes, you did just have to shoot a motherfucker.
A speaker inside the truck was blaring what Captain Donley called "pre-game music." Kendrick Lamar's DNA was currently playing. Vivian pointedly avoided looking at Hana for the whole trip.
They arrived at their destination. The Samsara Credit Solutions Agency's main headquarters were open for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Most of the Agency's employees lived in there, and they commonly returned from red-eye flights in the middle of the night.
The agents began unloading their cargo onto the lawn in front of the building. The night was almost completely silent: the only sounds were the chirping of insects and the equipment hitting the grass.
"No qualms about killing your old teammates?” Vedantam asked.
"Fuck no,” Vivian said. "They descend on you like vultures. Anybody who stays in that place is a rat bastard. Well, most people, at least.”
"Excluding you?”
"Including me. But … if you happen see a British guy with a giant rifle, do tell me where he is."
The team finished unloading the crates began to empty them of their contents. Perez started loading the rifles with silver bullets, all of which were carved with runes. Vedantam gently unpacked a crate full of molotov cocktails that flashed different colors. Huang took out a grenade made of flesh that growled at him, which he shoved into his bag. Vivian continued to hear muffled snarling noises coming from Huang's direction.
"Hey," Captain Donley said to Vivian, "are you squeamish?"
"I wouldn't say so," Vivian said.
"Good."
Eta-77 Donley drives a Leiner Destabilizer5 into the ground and activates it.
Eta-77 Donley: Alright, everyone, let's start revival! Romano, take Yenuk. Vedantam, take Bannon. I'll get Hazaecko.
Though Vivian had admittedly not met many task force captains, she would hazard a guess that Captain Donley was one of the few that could be described as "bubbly." Her expression always seemed radiant, even as she was pulling out daggers and making ritual circles. Her blonde hair and tanned, freckled build reminded Vivian of the horse girls at her high school.
"Is she gonna ask us to do a 'let's go team' or something?" Vivian whispered to Romano.
"She used to," Romano said, "until we forced her to stop."
"Now she only does it at the end," Vedantam said, "when we're all half-dead and too tired to complain."
Eta-77 Romano: I guess I'll start us off.
Eta-77 Romano takes a tree sapling out of his backpack. The other Eta-77 members step back.
Eta-77 Romano: Yenuk. Birther of medicine, soul of the forest.
Eta-77 Romano plants the sapling in the ground. Eta-77 Kyeon scatters ashes and holy water atop the sapling.
Eta-77 Romano: We pray to you even though the world moves on.
Eta-77 Romano stabs into his heart. He rips out the dagger and lets his blood drip onto the sapling.
The plant in the ground suddenly consumes Romano. It grows extremely fast, eventually reaching a height of roughly 2.5 meters.
SCP-8884-G: Jesus!
The tree grows two branches, each of which develop into appendages that end with spindly fingers. The tree uproots itself to reveal two root formations, thick enough to be used as legs.
Eta-77 Vedantam: Banonn. Protector of treasure, eternal radiance.
Eta-77 Perez has started a fire. Eta-77 Vedantam throws spices, incense, and several gold coins into it. The flame swallows the items, growing until it is roughly 2 meters tall.
Eta-77 Vedantam: We worship you even though the world does not.
Eta-77 Vedantam walks into the flame.
The fire collapses and wraps around Vedantam. His skin is now luminous. His eyes have lost their pupils, having instead become balls of light.
Eta-77 Donley: Oh, my turn!
Eta-77 Donley takes out a bundle of arrows.
Eta-77 Donley: Hazaecko. Emblem of soldiers, enacter of justice. The all-seeing, all-reaching arm of the law.
Eta-77 Donley snaps the bundle of arrows and scatters them onto the ground. Eta-77 Huang takes several scriptures of an unknown language and lights them on fire before laying them on top.
Eta-77 Donley: We remember you even though the world forgets.
Eta-77 Donley stabs an arrow into her right eye. She pulls out the arrow before snapping it in half and throwing it into the fire.
The flaming scrolls layer themselves onto Eta-77 Donley. They transform into metal plates, encasing Eta-77 Donley in a giant suit of plate armor. The arrowheads in the ground fly into these plates, melting in the armor to create blinking eyes wherever they strike. These eyes constantly swivel in different directions. The arrow shafts form a broadsword roughly 1.8 meters in length. Captain Donley picks it up and puts it over her shoulder. Her eye is still bleeding, but she does not appear to be phased.
Eta-77 Donley: You all remember what you need to do?
The rest of the team expresses agreement.
Eta-77 Donley: Wonderful! Let's get going. I don’t know about you, but I'm excited to kill some false idols.
As soon as they all stepped into the building, the glass door slammed shut on its own, locking with a click.
Much more pressing than the doors, however, was the earth-shattering explosion.
Eta-77 Huang: Hey, do you-
Eta-77’s mics peak.
All that Vivian remembered was that it was the loudest sound she’d ever heard. Her ears were filled with an incessant ringing as she tried to get her bearings.
The ceiling above them had collapsed, and concrete dust filled the air. Donley was using her broadsword to parry a two-meter tall knight in gleaming plate armor. Yenuk was trying to grow a blockade of roots in the hallway to block a surge of water, controlled by a man in a robe. Vedantam flashed in and out of existence in bursts of light, but shadowy figures grappled with him wherever he went.
Another gigantic explosion shook the building. More of the ceiling caved in. The hallway was now completely filled with dust. A chunk of concrete smashed into the ground two feet away from where Vivian was standing. She heard bullets fly past her head.
Gunfire. Flashing lights. Flames. Chants. More gunfire. Trees, saltwater, storms. Gold, arrows, swords, armor. There had to be at least a dozen people fighting around her.
Hana was a few metres away. Her face was visibly bloody, and she staggered as she fired into the dust. Vivian used her spectral hands to grab her.
Eta-77 Kyeon: The hell are you doing?
Eta-77 Donley: Perez, on your left!
SCP-8884-G: Hana, just trust me!
Amid the dust clouds and gunfire, Vivian relied on her memory to drag Hana to a nearby storage room.
For the sake of clarity, only communications made by Eta-77 Kyeon and SCP-8884-G during this time period are recorded below.
SCP-8884-G: Here, use this to wipe off the blood. Ok. I intended for this to happen.
Eta-77 Kyeon: You intended for us to get jumped?
An explosion is heard in the background.
SCP-8884-G: Yeah. Made a fake call last night to tip off The Manager. Your task force needs to be a distraction, but I wasn’t going to tell them that.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Why the fuck—
SCP-8884-G: Shut it. The Manager’s office is on the fourth floor. Our borrowers ask to talk about the machine, and The Manager takes them to his office. He always locks the door and draws the blind, but he left a crack in them one time when I was walking by. I saw him pull out the files. I know where they are. He said that they showed the location of a kill-switch on the fourth floor that could turn off the machine.
Eta-77 Kyeon: You really think The Manager would store files that important in a place where you could get them?
SCP-8884-G: He always told me the easiest way to hide something was to put it in plain sight.
Another explosion is heard.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Respectfully, that's stupid as shit. We don't have to be hedging our bets on this. Can't you just go to the electrical room and turn off everything on the circuit panel?
SCP-8884-G: The electrical room is in the basement. Upstairs, we can jump out of a window if we need to get out. Downstairs, no escape route.
Eta-77 Kyeon: We don't need one. The rest of the task force—
SCP-8884-G: The rest of the task force can't do shit, judging by how they were holding up. I'll take my chances upstairs.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Ok. We’re going back and telling Donley—
SCP-8884-G: Fuck no. They need to be distracting the Agency as much as they can. This has to be just me and you. Ok?
Eta-77 Kyeon: Sure, even though we have no backup plan, no exfiltration plan, and we're working on information that's dubious at best.
SCP-8884-G: It’s going to work, because I know exactly what I’m doing. Your options right now aren't looking great. Are you coming or not?
They sprinted up the stairs, two at a time, as impacts shook sawdust off of the ceilings. They got to the fourth floor, only to discover that it was currently covered in a raging sandstorm.
"Fuck,” Vivian said. "Stay here and lock the door. If someone tries to open it, you can run away before they break it down.
"Who do you think you are, superman? I’m—”
But Vivian was already off. She slammed the stairwell door shut and sprinted through the hallways, all the way until she reached The Manager’s office. She closed the door and locked it.
She wrenched open the file cabinet and took out the papers labelled "AKIVA UPKEEP MACHINE BLUEPRINTS.” She opened the manila folder to find that the pages were completely blank, save for one sentence:
Smart, but not smart enough.
Vivian heard the door swing open behind her.
"The locks here don’t work,” Tariq said. "We broke them on purpose last night.”
She turned around to see Tariq holding a familiar body. Hana’s eyes were wide open and glassy, her skull pierced by a bullet hole. The blood matting her hair was dripping down onto the carpeted floor.
Tariq's face was expressioness as pointed his shotgun straight at Vivian’s head. He pulled the trigger.
Silence. Nothing but deafening silence and a murky black void.
And then, suddenly, Vivian heard the sounds of birds chirping and people talking. She opened her eyes to find she was sitting outdoors at a tea shop. People chattered in Mandarin at the surrounding tables.
A Chinese woman in a flowing white dress with long, shimmering black hair sat in front of her. The woman slid her a cup of tea, a note, and a pen before vanishing.
In the cup of tea, Vivian saw the room where she’d just died. Tariq took her vase out of her suit pocket and put it into his own. He took her earpiece as well, inserting it into his own ear before leaving.
Vivian felt sick. She decided to read the note instead.
I can’t stay here to talk, but I can give you another try. do you want to come back to life?
YES / NO — please circle one.
What would she even go back for?
Vivian wrote on the margins:
why do you think I should?
The note wrote back:
so you’re undecided, then. shall I try to convince you?
Vivian wrote:
alright, I guess
And suddenly, Vivian was no longer sitting at the table. She was watching her teenage self standing at the dinner table, arguing with her parents.
"Oh my god! I go to a school that costs sixty-thousand fucking dollars a year!" she shouted. "Stop freaking out over every little thing!"
"I wouldn’t be ‘freaking out’ if you were doing something with your life!" her mother yelled back in Mandarin. "Are you willing to throw away your future just like that? All because you got lazy?"
"I wrote enough applications! Getting a C here is worth, like, the fucking same as an A in a public school!"
"Really? Since when did you become an expert on this?"
"Since when were you a fucking expert? Did you get a college admissions PhD from your—"
The scene changed. Vivian now saw herself at a house party. Trashy pop music was blaring in the background. Vivian was lying with her head hanging off a couch, her feet kicked up onto the backrest. Several red solo cups sat on the table next to her.
"That isn't all she said, was it?" Hana asked.
"No," Vivian slurred. "She told me … apply myself and use my potential or some shit."
"Well, will you?" Hana asked.
"Fuck no,” Vivian muttered, rubbing circles over her eyes. "That bitch can go die in hell."
"I don't think that's…" Hana cut herself off before she could finish.
The two of them sat in silence for a while. Before Vivian knew it, tears were silently streaming down her face.
"Tell me,” Vivian said, "It’s all downhill after this, isn't it? You grow up and your life goes to shit?"
"You know, some people say it's a pattern. It'll get worse before it gets-"
"Before it gets better, yeah, I know! But it’s been getting worse for three fucking years!”
Hana jumped at this sudden outburst.
"Sorry, I just …" Vivian stammered, "These are my own problems. You … you don't know me, anyways. I shouldn’t have asked you to help me.”
"Sure," Hana muttered. She sighed.
The scene changed. Hana was anxiously pacing alone in her apartment, holding her phone to her ear. It was almost dusk. The lights were off, and the room was bathed in shadow.
Hana checked the clock on the wall. She waited a few seconds, and then checked it again.
"Hello," the phone said, "you’ve reached Vivian Qian’s voicemail. Please leave your message at the tone.”
The scene changed. It was now sunset. Hana was at a park, next to a large tree. Birds were chirping faintly in the background.
The tree shaded nothing except for a smiling picture of Vivian. The photo sat on a stand, draped with several memorial wreaths. Incense was burning at a small altar nearby, and several flowers and stuffed animals laid beneath it. The empty rows of folding chairs in the background implied an event had just finished.
Hana was standing there, staring at Vivian's photo. She held a flower with large, purple petals.
"I’m sorry I waited until everyone else went away," Hana said. Her voice was shaky. "Too concerned about what other people think, I guess."
She paused for a moment before continuing. "I've seen people do this in movies. I wondered how it could possibly help to talk to someone dead. But I guess I still have a lot of things I’d like to say to you, and there’s … really no other option now."
There was a moment of silence.
"I wish I knew what happened," Hana continued. "I lie awake and think about it a lot. I hope you're doing better, wherever you are. Getting the break you deserve, after…"
Hana cut herself off. She inspected the flower in her hands as she regained her bearings, turning it over and looking at each individual petal.
"This is a coneflower," she said. "They're a very low-maintenance perennial. I mostly leave them alone, and they still give me these brilliant purple blooms every year."
Hana placed the flower among the piles of bouquets and plushies.
"But even these still need water once in a while," Hana said. "I was planning on telling you something about that later. I guess…"
Her face was beginning to stream with tears, creating a soft pitter-patter sound as they fell like raindrops onto the grass.
Hana shook her head and swore. She wiped her tears before walking away.
The scene changed. They were now in a Foundation break room. Hana, sitting on the couch, looked her current age.
The door opened, and Captain Donley walked in.
"Hana," Donley said, "do you wanna talk about it?"
"What is there to talk about?" Hana said.
"Someone who I assume to be an old friend of yours showing up in the middle of our containment site and attempting to extort us for money?"
Hana put her head in her hands. "Captain, if you want a full debrief, I can give it to you later. Just … not now."
"I'm not looking for a debrief," Donley said. "I can see that you're not doing alright. Is there, like, anything I can do?"
Hana sighed. The two of them stayed silent for a few moments.
"Actually," Hana said, "can I make a call?”
The scene changed. Hana was now in a conference room, talking to someone over the phone. Captain Donley sat in a chair facing her.
"Just tell her that her friends want to see her, ok?" Hana said. "Tell her that they won't be mad. They just want her back. Yes, I know she probably won't listen, but just … say something to her, will you? Alright, thank you. Thank you so much."
The scene changed. For some reason, it wasn’t going chronologically anymore. Vivian was now back at the restaurant, staring Hana in the face as a steak sat in between them. Hana's face was completely expressionless.
Hana slid her steak over to Vivian. A note rested on top of it:
YES / NO
Vivian buried her head in her hands. "There's nothing I can do," she said.
"Have you tried?"
"I don't need to.”
"Have you tried?"
"Hana, I've lived in my own body for twenty-three years. I know that—"
"Have you tried?"
Vivian looked up. Hana was staring her dead in the eye, determination written across her face.
The two of them sat in silence for eternities. Vivian took a deep, deep sigh.
"You're going to be disappointed," Vivian said.
"No," Hana said. "I'll be happy as long as you try."
Vivian circled the YES and handed the note back.
Hana stood up and gave her a hug. She smelled sweet, a mix of perfume and the coconut shampoo Vivian had given her to treat her split ends.
When they pulled away, Hana was smiling again; that brilliant grin Vivian remembered so clearly.
"Ignore my body,” Hana said. "Trust me, ok? Go talk to Captain Donley. If you can’t take the stairs, find a window with a tree close by. Jump out and Yenuk will catch you."
And then Vivian woke up.
She came back to life with a splitting headache. The adrenaline coursing through her body dampened it somewhat, but she could still feel heavy, throbbing pain in the back of her skull. Blood was still dripping from her face and hair. Her earpiece and vase were missing, just like she’d seen in the tea.
Hana’s body laid next to her, crumpled on the floor. Her eyes were wide open. On a whim, Vivian reached over and gently closed them.
"I’m coming back for you later," she said, "whether you like it or not.”
Vivian ran into the hallway. Tariq had left, and the sandstorm was gone. She reached the staircase to find that it had collapsed.
She turned around and sprinted to the window. There was a tree nearby. She was at least fifty feet above the ground.
She took a deep breath and jumped out.
Vivian’s heart dropped into her stomach as she felt gravity take hold of her. She plummeted towards the ground as everything in her vision turned into blurs of color.
Something broke her fall. It was springy, but still hard enough to make her entire back erupt in pain.
"Where the hell were you, and what the hell were you doing?”
She opened her eyes to find Perez leaning over here. His suit was ripped and torn in several places, and his face bore a large gash that was still bleeding. She was lying on a bed of leaves in the palm of Yenuk, the tree god Romano had summoned.
"Not important,” Vivian said through clenched teeth. She felt like a bone had to be broken somewhere. Probably multiple. "First of all, tell everyone to switch channels. Someone took my earbud thing.”
Eta-77 Perez: Comms have been compromised. Someone got ahold of 8884-G’s earpiece. Switch to the emergency channel.
"Second of all,” Vivian said, "Where’s Captain Donley?”
"She’s in pretty rough shape,” Perez said. "Do you have the heal juice on you? Your vase thing?”
"No, but I can make something work. Take me to her.”
Perez took her to a rec room on the first floor. Thick layers of branches and roots sealed the doorways and windows, but the wooden barriers opened up briefly to let them through.
Eta-77’s agents were sprawled across the couches in varying states of injury. The ones in better shape were using a mixture of first-aid and thaumaturgy to patch up the rest.
Note that SCP-8884-G is missing its earpiece, and as such, its dialogue was only heard through Eta-77 Perez’s mic.
SCP-8884-G: Where the hell did the Agency go?
Eta-77 Perez: A few are laying siege outside the hallway, but Yenuk's reinforced the walls and doorways pretty well. We fucked ‘em up real bad, so they’re probably trying to heal too. The problem is, they do that faster than us, on account of being gods and everything.
SCP-8884-G: What about our gods?
Agent Perez: Vedantam ran out of energy to support Banonn, and the captain got Hazaecko’s armor—and herself, actually—crushed by Cú Chulainn.6 Yenuk’s the only god we have left. MTF backup will get here in around an hour, so we’ve decided to wait until—
SCP-8884-G: No. Not an option. That’s too long.
Eta-77 Perez: What?
SCP-8884-G: Hana’s dead. We don’t have time to wait. I don’t have my vase on me, but I always know where it is. Someone has it on this floor, and we need it ASAP. I can’t resurrect without the vase, and even with it, revival won't work if the corpse is too old.
Eta-77 Perez: What’s the cutoff?
SCP-8884-G: Depends. Usually around half an hour. Take me to see the captain.
Captain Donley was pretty fucked up. She was lying on the floor, her breathing labored and shallow. The other agents had taken off her plate armor, but large shards of it were still rammed into her body. Donley’s chest was visibly mangled, her arm was bent at an awkward angle, and Vivian saw what she thought were broken ribs. Huang was busy trying to stem her bleeding when he saw Vivian.
"Where the fuck did you run off to?” Huang said.
"Not important right now,” she said. "I can heal the captain. Step aside.”
Vivian knelt down next to Captain Donley as dozens of spectral hands emerged from her back, bathing the room in a celestial glow. They displayed buddhist mudras as they fanned out behind her.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do, but her body seemed to know. Dozens of hands emerged from her back, each of which began tending to the Captain’s wounds. Some healed Donley as they pulled out armor shards, leaving behind healthy flesh. Others fixed her arm and set her ribs, magically snapping her bones back into place. One glowing hand passed over Donley’s face, and the blood on it was wiped off.
When Vivian was done, Captain Donley sat up with a start.
"Hey, what happened?” Donley said. She turned and saw Vivian. "And where the fuck were you?”
Vivian caught her up to speed as quickly as possible.
Eta-77 Donley: Seems like you’ve left us in a great place, with Hana dead and me crushed against a wall. Congratulations. Are you looking for, like, a high five? A pat on the fucking back or something?
SCP-8884-G: Look, I’m really, really sorry, ok? But I’m here now, and one of the Agency cronies has my vase. We can save Hana if you’ll let me help you.
Eta-77 Donley: And how do you intend to help?
SCP-8884-G: Well, I tried doing my own thing, but that went to shit, didn’t it? So if you have any suggestions, Captain, I’m all ears.
Eta-77 Donley: Alright. Well, you always know where your vase is, right?
SCP-8884-G: Yeah. Good enough to pinpoint a direction, at the very least.
Eta-77 Donley: And you can heal the rest of us?
SCP-8884-G: I’m pretty sure I can even put your armor back together if you wanted me to.
Eta-77 Donley: Good. Then why don’t we just get healed, regroup, and go outside to fuck 'em up long enough for you to get your vase back?
Vivian’s spectral hands pieced together the shards of Hazaecko’s plate-armor. Each time the hands put together two pieces, they magically welded together. By the time Captain Donley was done describing the plan, the suit of armor was complete again, though it was missing the blinking eyes on the plates.
Captain Donley whistled.
Vivian had healed the rest of the team at least a little bit, and the other agents were dusting themselves off and picking up their equipment.
Hazaecko’s broadsword was in the corner, propped up against the wall. It was chipped and almost completely stained with blood.
Captain Donley reached over and hefted it over her shoulder. Vivian suddenly noticed how deceptively strong she was.
"Hey, Hazaecko! Bestie!” Captain Donley said. "We, like, totally blew it earlier, but in my defense, it wasn’t completely my fault, ok? You wanna give it another shot?”
The armor’s individual plates began flying towards Captain Donley. They layered themselves on top of her, reconstructing the full suit of armor. The eyes on the plates blinked open, swivelling in every direction again.
"Alright, guys!” Captain Donley said. Her radiant expression was back. Just by looking at her, Vivian felt confident that they were going to succeed.
"Do you all know the plan?” Donley asked. "Does everyone feel ready? Or readier, at least?”
Everyone nodded their heads.
"Good,” Captain Donley said. "Let’s go for take two.”
Yenuk's blockade retracts. Several Agency operatives, waiting in the hall, immediately train their guns on the doorway.
A flashbang is thrown through the doorway. Agency operatives shield their eyes. Eta-77 Donley emerges, broadsword in hand.
Eta-77 Donley: Miss me?
The sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the building yet again.
Captain Donley was currently engaged in a swordfight with a man Vivian assumed to be King Arthur. The captain’s broadsword created huge dents in the man’s armor wherever she struck. Behind the captain, a giant with three heads and six arms charged towards her on flaming wheels, holding spears in each of its hands.
Every single eyeball on Captain Donley’s armor swiveled around to look at the giant. Without even glancing backwards, the captain swung her broadsword behind her and lopped off two of the giant’s arms, causing it to roar in pain.
Eta-77 had told Vivian to wait for the situation to get chaotic before she started running. She now sprinted through the hallways, dodging localized storms and pyres of flame.
Unfortunately for her, the vase was all the way across the building, near the back exit. Many of the first floor’s walls had completely collapsed, making certain hallways feel more like an open field.
A giant wave emerged out of nowhere and slammed her against the wall. She coughed and sputtered as someone pulled her aside into a nearby dorm and shut the door.
"I’ll handle this,” Vedantam said. "Stay here for a sec.”
Vedantam took out what looked like a molotov cocktail, except for the fact that its liquid was rapidly shimmering between jet black and bright, flaming red. He lit the wick, opened the door, and threw it into the hallway.
The molotov created giant tendrils of flame, tall enough to lick at the ceiling. Water hit it, but with no effect: in fact, the water seemed to be adding fuel to the fire.
"Go!” Vedantam shouted. Vivian didn’t need to be told twice.
She was roughly halfway across the floor now. She turned a corner and found herself staring straight at Archie.
He aimed his gun at Vivian, but hesitated for just a split second; long enough for Perez to sneak up and pistol-whip him from behind.
Vivian saw blurs of brown and green as she sprinted. Eta-77’s tree god had grown dense boughs and branches in several rooms, buying her more time to escape as she dashed through the hallways.
The vase turned out to be inside a safe in a large study. The lock required a password, but Eta-77 had anticipated that. Vivian took out the key they’d given her and pushed it against the safe’s door. A keyhole instantly appeared to receive it. She turned the key, and the door opened with a click.
She grabbed her vase and turned around, just in time to see The Manager walk in.
"Welcome back,” The Manager said. "We never really got a chance to talk things through. How about we sit down and—”
A broadsword chopped his head off.
"Go out the window!” Captain Donley yelled
"How rude!” The Manager’s severed head shouted. "I didn’t even get to finish my introduction.”
Vivian sprinted out the door. She saw The Manager’s body make some sort of hand symbol that blasted Donley into the wall with a sickening crunch. The captain groaned in pain.
The Manager’s decapitated body grabbed its head and reattached it, but at that point, Vivian was already gone.
She vaulted over a window into Yenuk’s palm, where Huang and Perez were waiting for her. The tree giant lifted its branches and brought them right below a window on the fourth floor.
"People are guarding Hana’s body,” Vivian whispered. "They’re trying to be stealthy, but I can hear them from here.”
"Oh, that’s easy to fix,” Huang said. He reached into his bag and took out the growling hand grenade made out of flesh. "This’ll clear out this entire floor.”
"What about Hana’s body?”
"It hates dead things.”
"It? And why haven’t we used this yet?”
"We haven’t gotten a chance to use this, because before now, we also happened to be indoors. But now we aren’t, so stop with the fucking questions, will you?”
Huang pulled the "pin” of the grenade, which turned out to be an entire spine. The vertebrae were still dripping with blood when he tossed it aside. The grenade began screaming in pain.
Huang tossed it into the fourth floor, and Perez closed the window.
Soon, there were a lot more screams. Something red, fleshy, and slick with blood expanded and pressed itself against the window.
A few seconds later, Vivian heard a series of extremely unsettling crunching and squelching noises. When that stopped, the flesh disappeared from the window. The tree giant raised its palm to let the three agents look through the glass.
Every single inch of the floor, wall, and ceiling was dripping blood and viscera. There were no corpses.
"It’ll only get worse the more you think about it,” Perez said, "so don’t. Let’s grab Hana.”
Hana woke up with a splitting headache. She saw Vivian leaning over her, holding her vase. Huang and Perez were standing in the corners, hair and shoes soaked in blood that was hopefully not theirs.
"Hana!” Vivian exclaimed. She gave Hana a brief hug before she pulled her to her feet, right as another explosion shook the building.
"Viv, what the hell did you—”
"Not right now. Later, I promise. Donley and the others are still fighting downstairs, so we need to leave fast.”
"If we need to leave,” Hana said, "can’t we just go through the windows?”
"Yes,” Huang said, "but there’s this invisible barrier that stops you after about five meters. Perez and I checked.”
"I think it’s generated by the machine,” Vivian said, "the same one that gives me powers. Which leads to the plan I was talking about.”
"Hey,” Huang said. "Hold on a sec.”
Eta-77 Huang: Hey, captain, this is Huang. We’ve revived Hana. Any advice on what to do next?
Gunfire is heard through Eta-77 Donley’s mic. Her voice is fatigued.
Eta-77 Donley: If she feels good enough to fight, tell her to—shit!—come back me up on the first floor. We’re getting tired, and this manager bastard just absolutely refuses to—
A loud roar interrupts Eta-77 Donley.
Eta-77 Donley: Gotta go. Her and Huang need to come down. Perez, go with Vivian to—
Eta-77 Donley’s mic peaks.
Eta-77 Huang: Captain? Captain? Shit.
"Is there a problem with Hana’s old plan?” Perez asked.
"Yeah,” Vivian said. "It's literally the only place we could be going. Any one of them with two brain cells to rub together can figure out we'll be down there. Shit happens, there's no way out, and I die. My vase is gone, and the captain's fucked."
"You're that sure you'd lose a fight?" Perez said.
"You think the Bodhisattva of compassion is well-known for hand to hand combat? Shithead."
"Do you always curse like a fourteen-year old? Or is it just when you—"
"Hey,” Hana said, "do you guys think Taylor could get her out?”
"Oh, you're right!” Huang said. "Why didn’t I think of that?"
"Who the fuck is Taylor?” Vivian said.
"He was gonna be central to our plan until we got jumped,” Perez said. "And since then, there hasn’t been a situation where he would’ve made a difference. So he’s just been here this entire—”
"Yeah, but who the fuck is he?”
"Can’t tell you, unfortunately,” Perez said. "That Manager bastard’s got ears everywhere. One sec.”
Eta-77 Perez: Hey, Taylor? You there? Uh, if you can’t respond right now, give us a tap on your mic or something so we know you heard us.
A tap comes from Taylor’s mic. There is a pause of around twenty seconds.
Eta-77 Taylor: Alright. I can talk for a bit.
Extraneous dialogue removed. Eta-77 Perez asks if Eta-77 Taylor could help SCP-8884-G exfiltrate.
Eta-77 Taylor: No problem, mate. I gotta go for now, but gimme a holler and I’ll get her out.
Perez recapped the conversation.
"Well?” Hana said. "Do you trust him?"
Vivian sighed. "Why not?”
"Do you know what we’re looking for?” Perez asked.
Compared to the chaos they’d passed through, the basement was eerily silent. There was no sound except for the click of their shoes and the humming of machinery.
"An electrical room,” Vivian said, "or really any room that’s large and suspicious.”
"Got it,” Perez said, before his head was blown to smithereens by a shotgun. His blood sprayed onto Vivian’s face.
She felt sand particles around her, carried by an invisible wind. Buckshot tore into her left leg.
Vivian ran.
"Viv," Tariq said, "This is pointless." The sand was at her back. She could feel grains of it in her hair, batting against her face.
The injury combined with the dim lighting did her no favors in trying to quickly read all the signs. Archives. Cleaning supplies. Storage. Electrical.
Vivian sprinted into the room and slammed the door shut, locking it with a click. She hoped they didn’t think to break the basement locks as well. She fumbled on the wall next to her before she eventually found the light switch.
There was a giant machine set into the center of the room. It looked like a plane turbine, only double the size and a lot quieter, emitting nothing but a dull him. Just like Captain Donley had guessed, its sides were inscribed with runes and texts in several languages. Vivian saw Hebrew, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, old English, Hindi, Egyptian hieroglyphs, and several other scripts she didn't recognize.
She found the circuit panel on the side of the wall, only to realize it was locked.
The following is bodycam footage taken from Eta-77 Kyeon. She is currently accompanied by Eta-77 Huang and Eta-77 Vedantam in fighting a group of entities in a large open foyer.
An entity that resembles a black void punches Eta-77 Huang in the stomach. His eyes briefly flash black before he coughs blood and collapses onto the ground.
Eta-77 Kyeon throws a glowing knife that hits the entity in the eye. It screams and fades into the shadows.
Eta-77 Kyeon runs to check on Huang. Blood is still trickling from his mouth.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Are you—
Eta-77 Huang: No, I’m not good. I think I just got my liver crushed into my kidneys.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Jesus. The rec room—
A jet of flame narrowly misses the two of them.
Eta-77 Vedantam: Grab Huang!
Eta-77 Kyeon pulls Huang into a nearby hallway.
Eta-77 Kyeon: The rec room is nearby. Go there and treat Donley. She’s not doing so hot, last I checked.
Eta-77 Huang: You sure you can handle all this shit by yourself?
Eta-77 Kyeon: Hopefully.
Eta-77 Huang stands up with some difficulty and begins hastily lurching towards the rec room.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Muttering: C’mon, Viv. Hurry up.
Eta-77 Kyeon reloads her shotgun and steps back into the foyer. An explosion and a blinding flash of light are heard.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Fuck!
Eta-77 Vedantam: Over here!
Eta-77 Kyeon’s bodycam is now too damaged to record.
Sand was beginning to stream in through the cracks as Tariq kicked the door over and over. Its wood began to splinter.
What could Vivian do? All she had was a gun and her vase—
Her vase. The Red Boy had burned Sun Wukong with the True Fire of Samādhi, which not even the Monkey King could extinguish. Defeated, Wukong went to Guanyin for help, which is when she scooped up an ocean's worth of water in her vase.
Her suit pocket suddenly felt a lot heavier.
Vivian heard the sound of splintering wood behind her. Tariq had kicked down the door. Sand was beginning to fill the room.
This extraction plan had better fucking work, Vivian thought.
She took the porcelain vase out of her pocket and flipped it upside down.
A tsunami of water flowed out of vase, like a gigantic dam that had just been unplugged. The room was submerged within seconds. The giant turbine flickered and sputtered, erupting in a flash of sparks before it suddenly ground to a halt.
The roaring heard from Kyeon’s mic disappears. The screeching heard from Huang’s mic disappears. The sound of crashing waves heard from Vedantam’s mic dissapears.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Taylor, start the extraction!
Eta-77 Taylor: You got it.
Vivian's muscles seized up. A tingling in her body turned into burning, fiery pain as she felt herself getting electrocuted. Someone was pulling her muscles so tight they were about to snap. She couldn't breath, she couldn’t even think.
She heard the sound of footsteps in sloshing water somewhere nearby.
Tariq peered over her, gun pointed to her face. Vivian tried to talk, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate.
He pressed his shotgun to her forehead before a bullet pierced through his skull.
"Fuck yeah," Archie said. "Look at that timing. I should be a screenwriter."
Archie pulled her to her feet and fed her some sort of liquid. It tasted gently sweet, like a diluted syrup. Vivian's muscles relaxed as she gasped for breath.
She looked at Archie only to notice he was currently wearing a Foundation badge.
"Eta-77 Agent Archie Taylor," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Eta-77 Kyeon: Taylor, this is Kyeon. What's your status?
Eta-77 Taylor: We ate.
Eta-77 Kyeon laughs.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Slightly more specific, please?
Eta-77 Taylor: Tariq is dead. The giant machine was powered down. We’re not currently in danger.
Eta-77 Perez: And the water she flooded the basement with worked as normal for revival. God, this headache sucks ass.
Eta-77 Kyeon: Alright. Vivian had the right idea: the Agency people seem to have lost their powers. MTF backup is here now. Cleanup time, everyone.
Eta-77 Taylor: By the way, Perez. Why the fuck did you hit me so hard?
Eta-77 Perez: It needed to be convincing.
Eta-77 Taylor: Bullshit.
Eta-77 Perez: Yeah, I know, I just wanted an excuse to hit you. I still haven't forgotten about the drains, you know that? I was in the middle of my shower. Scared the shit out of me.
Eta-77 Taylor: That wasn't my fault!
Captain Donley woke up and immediately vomited.
"You’d better be grateful,” Huang said. "I had to channel my inner Gandalf to pull enough thaumaturgy bullshit to heal you.”
After she rinsed her mouth out, Donley asked, "did we win?”
"Yes, captain,” Hana said, "we won.”
"Let’s go! Fuck yeah!” Captain Donley said. "Hey, can I get a celebratory ‘let’s go team’ on three?”
A round of grumbles passed through the room.
"Oh, come on,” Captain Donley said. "I was single-handedly carrying the fight on the first floor.”
"Single-handedly is a strong word,” Vedantam said.
"Well, I had to keep that manager bastard occupied for ages! Getting crushed over and over really hurts! Oh yeah, and I was wavering at the brink of death for like ten minutes! Twice! I at least deserve a ‘let’s go team’ on three!”
Vivian and the rest of Eta-77 reluctantly put their hands together and gave her a "let’s go team” on three.
The following footage was taken from the standard 360° camera located in Foundation vans.
A man is sitting handcuffed in the backseat. His suit is ripped and bloodied.
Vivian Qian, exiting the building, motions for the car to roll down its windows. Her hair is matted with blood. She is smiling.
Qian: Hey, Manager. You said you wanted to talk?
UPDATE: SCP-8884 has now been designated as neutralized.
10/02/2024
"My mom invited you out for dinner,” Vivian said. "Are you free next Friday?"
"She doesn't need me, she needs a therapist," Hana muttered. "But sure. I'll come."
They'd told Vivian's friends and family a cover story. According to them, she'd joined a scammer organization that didn’t allow outside contact, which wasn't very far from the truth.
Two weeks after she’d lost her powers, Vivian received a mysterious package in the mail. It contained a lotus flower with a sweet, soothing aroma, which calmed Vivian slightly whenever she smelled it. It never seemed to dry up. She'd lost it once, when it slipped out of her bag while she was moving into her local college dorms, but she'd found it sitting on her desk the next day.
The package came with a single slip of paper. It read, in both English and Chinese, "glad I could help."
Now that Vivian was pulling all-nighters for her graduation requirements, she'd realized the possible benefits of caffeine. Hana had bought a tray of drinks for her to try.
They now both lived over an hour away in different directions from the park they used to go to, but they decided to drive and meet up there anyways. They were both sappy like that.
Vivian sat up on the picnic blanket to look at the drink tray.
"Have you tried any of them yet?" Hana said.
"No,” Vivian said. "Hey, you like americano, right?”
"Yeah.”
"I'll give it a shot," Vivian said. She took a sip of the americano before she spat it out onto the grass beside her.
"This shit sucks!"
Hana laughed. "Try some of the others, then," she said.
"Americano is just coffee and hot water, right?"
"Correct."
"And all of these drinks are primarily made out of coffee?"
"Yes."
"So if I hate coffee and water, why the fuck would I like any of these more?"
"What are you, psychic? You know what they're gonna taste like before you even pick 'em up? Just try 'em."
Vivian took a sip of the latte.
"Huh," she said. "Not bad, actually."
