She rubbed the back of her head. It felt distant somehow, like she had to stretch her fingers to touch it, but it was there. What had happened before, whether real or not, was behind her. Her skin was cold, the air stale and colder. when she heard what sounded like a gate being shut. Her eyes were still having trouble opening.
“That’s low for a human, let alone a Phynetic.”
“Well, she’s our problem now isn’t she? Dah hahahar!”
“You love getting new problems, that’s your damage, Barker.”
When her eyes opened, not much had changed. Black shadows exchanged with white lab coats, but that was all. Her limbs felt heavy and the air wobbled.
“Looks like she hasn’t slept in days.”
“Any mission with Adams will do that to you. Poor thing.”
As she was able to peak through the surge of men and women with their tools crowding around her, she noticed how much space was in the area. It felt like it could stretch on endlessly.
“Is she all right now? See if she can stand.”
She felt hands scraping the hair she had left, and poking her body with tools she couldn't see.
“Check in with CST, let us know what we’re in for.”
As her eyes finally settled, she noticed this dungeon wasn’t actually lit. Or it was some odd trick of the light. But all the soldiers, doctors, and engineers moving in symmetry and the devices lining the walls seemed to standout. Like something had highlighted them as important for her. Just the site of some things made her more cautious like a voice behind her whispering where she should go and which things were unpleasant to be interacted with.
“Let’s go ahead and get our bio samples.”
“Wait!” She felt herself being dragged away and jerked forward reflexively. She looked around to find anything familiar, spotting Adams walking away after a stretch.
“Ms. Adams! What’s going on, where are we?”
“Where do you think? Facility 120.” She could barely make out Adams voice in the crowd.
“Where are they taking me?” 2599 struggled to poke her head out from the mass of crowding researchers.
“They’re going to get you sorted out. Anyeong!~ ”
“Then where are you going?”
“To do more work. What’s it to you?”
“I thought you were taking me the whole way.”
Adams’ mouth fell agape, and her eyes grew wide and wet.
“You’re breaking my heart, darling! You love me that much already?” She sniffled. “Don’t worry, I raised you well. It’s your show now kid!” She stretched her thumb forward with a beaming smile. “I believe in you!”
“FUCK YOU, YOU BIG BITCH!”
“Whoa!”
“Hey!”
“Language, young lady!”
“Dah hahahar! Adams got herself another fan, she did!”
The rage built as Adams continued disappearing into the darkness. She could still hear some of them laughing. One of the women definitely said something about homes and her not having one, followed by familiar pitying coos. She was tired, but more than anything tired of letting that inconsiderate dog of the foundation win.
“I’m sorry for my language. I just got- I won't do it again.” They took a simultaneous step back, synchronized like dolls. It was finally enough distance to bow in shame. “Could someone tell me what’s going on? I’m a little confused and I’d liked to see the facility.”
“Nice to see a lass of this generation so eager in getting to work. Right this way.” A researcher with bright eyes and a mess of dirty blond hair said as he cleared a path.
The elevator was one large platform at the top of a landing. It could fit one hundred people and a dragon or two. She took a deep breath as the platform rose with the chatting scientists surrounding her. The shadows above came closer, still just as obscure as the ones below.
The halls were plenty wide; they needed to be with all the traffic. With the clacking of shoes against tiles, and echoes of conversations, it was an office building like any she had been in. There was a living element to it all, like she was always being monitored by something just out of view. It made the lack of security more unsettling. The small bathroom provided was still bigger than the one in her old containment. She felt embarrassed by her elation with the simple joy of being clean.
There was a notable lack of shower caps, but she would tuck that complaint away given the array of hygiene options. She had a lot on her mind but the thought of getting to sleep without the smell of her own blood suffocating her made them all melt away. She worried she may have been too indulgent, but the patience these guards had was uncanny. She wouldn’t have gotten more than six feet away from a soldier at 118 but it was easy to get lost here.
“There she is! Aren’t you a braw sight? Nice to be out of those rags, aye?
“Yes. Thank you, sir.”
“Now that we get to introduce ourselves proper…” He cleared his throat. “My name’s Colin Barker, I’ll be your head of Physio-ontokinetics.”
“Colin Barker?”
“Bit of a mouthful, I know. No worries, it batters me own tongue and I been saying it all my life, Dah hahahar!”
It wasn’t that. As she said the name herself, his mane of messy hair and snout of a nose holding up his frames made her feel like she was talking to a Labrador.
“We can sit for a spell if yer anxious, the last thing we’re wanting to do is rattle ya.”
“Oh no, I’m ok!” She fixed her expression.
“Hello Mr. Barker. I’m SCP 2-”
“Come off it, lass.” She caught her mid bow. “We’re not at 118 anymore. You have a lovely name and I’d love to hear it.”
“I’m…Zena Cho.” She finished her bow, lamenting her stupid face had to blush every time a researcher cared for her name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure is all mine, trust me.” He began to walk before even finishing his sentence. She followed in kind. “When I heard about ya, I knew I had to meet ya, Zena!” He smiled eyeing the girl trying to keep up.
“What kind of things have you heard?” She expected him to share her shameful history. She didn’t expect any of the stories about her to interest anyone. It would be more unnerving if they were. If not unnerving, definitely annoying.
“Some good, some bad, some a li’l hard to believe. But it’s all of great interest to me and my flock here to say the least. I hear yer anomaly has been a wee bit difficult to manage.”
“It’s why I’m here…”
“Well, yer in the right place, if you can tolerate a li’l blethering on about nothing. No wait, I mean everything! Dah hahahar!”
She'd have loved to figure out what was so funny. “You don’t seem as cautious as the researchers I know.”
“We try to think a li’l beyond just containing here. We’re trying to figure it out, in and out.”
“Figure what out, reality warpers?”
“Reality! Her and everything she’s offering us to decipher.”
Barker had a habit of walking with his eyes closed. Whether he had some sixth sense or people were just used to this, he never bumped into anyone as he blindly ventured down the halls. He would wave and there were at least 2 people who’d reply with their own every time they turned a corner. She was used to squeezing through crowds, but it was still hard keeping up with his pace.
“Is it ok for an SCP to move around unsupervised like this?”
“Great question. We usually don’t like the li’l skippies roaming about, but it’s no issue here. At most sites it’s getting to know our guests on this side of the veil. But you don’t get to AUX 120 without us knowing everything about you. 120 is more a family like that, getting bigger and bigger each day.”
He noticed her scowling before she did.
“Life cannae be easy for you, I know. Typical for phynetics.”
“Phynetics?”
“Oh yeah, get used to hearing that. We fancy all types of names for yer flare of foible. That one’s caught on at the minute.”
She worried the books Karl gave her were outdated. She never saw that term for reality benders in it.
“Believe it or not, the foundation is changing all the time. This facility is trying to lead the charge.” He paused as they approached an intersection of bodies pouring in from all sides.
“It’s a shame really, but the more it grows the less we can account for good discipline across the board.” He let out a somber sigh as the flood dissipated with as much speed as it came in with. With the way clear he popped back into step. “But we’re always doing our best!”
“The head of security did seem really undisciplined.”
“Oh, not Adams. She may be a wee bit deranged, but we couldn’t approve of a facility this precious without her on payroll. She’s a legend y’know? Trained by some of the best agents.”
Zena made a grunt of a response.
“Dah hahahar! I’m sure you’ll come around.”
The halls seemed endless, and Barker was overflowing with long-winded anecdotes and bad jokes. It made it easy to zone out and take in the odd environment. Everything moved with a sway like a current was always coursing through. She expected to see more of the standard coat she was used to, but there were a lot of extravagant robes on display. Some she recognized from school, some she recognized from games, some she recognized from her grandmother’s old photos.
The more colorful the design, the more the patterns bled into each other, giving everything a sense of sentience. Jewelry and tattoos were not only allowed, but they also seemed encouraged. There were people wearing rings and piercings that never changed size or orientation no matter what angle you viewed them from.
People moved strangely through the halls. They would walk with odd timing, often into walls through doors without opening them. She saw a woman bump into herself, apologize then open her doppleganger like a door and enter. She saw a circle of people staring at a card before suddenly being replaced by bubbles. A man was doing some kind of spoken word performance with a dragon before it returned to his skin as a tattoo.
There were other strange creatures moving around of all different shapes, some were more leg than body, other’s were little more than a tube with a translucent shell. Most of them wore metal along their bodies, some looking like chains that rattled. Everything from man to robot had some number on their body that stuck out first. She noticed the creatures had theirs on the back of the neck, even if there were arms that would make it more visible. It seemed odd if it was some kind of identification system.
There were also those glowing fish everywhere, flying around like dragonflies. She prepared herself to lose her mind here too.
“…So, we still have our curfews and rules. With all the scamps running amuck through here we’d be in trouble even if they weren’t anomalous.”
They turned a corner to a hall with elevators. Smaller ones than the one in the garage.
“Children are so full of imagination and curiosity. I’m more a shepherd than scientist at the minute.”
Barker continued to walk in time to the opening of an elevator door, leaving Zena racing to catch it.
She caught her breath as the platform ascended.
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? The director’s getting you tagged.”
“Tagged?”
“Yes.”
“Tagged.”
“There aren’t worst places to get lost, trust me.”
“…right.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. A wind chilled her to the bone. She almost lost her footing.
Barker caught her before her wobbling knees could fall to the floor. “Easy now. She’s right down the Hall of Roads.
A massive chasm, illuminated by leviathans descending from some light above, expanded before her. Creatures could be heard in the abyss but she could only see the shadows of them passing by the tendrils. There was air but it was wet and salty with a familiar scent of sand and sea.
“Sorry.”
“Nothing to worry about. Takes some getting used to for all of us.”
He let her walk a few steps to prove her stability. She felt as if the sand had already filled her shoes.
“It’s a bit of a walk, I know. The kids love to muck about here. Maybe I’ve a lack of youthful vigor, it’s all a bit much on the nerves for me, Heh.”
His eyes wandered around the Hall of Roads, then he popped open his mouth as if the thought had just filled it.
“Hey off the record, you can trust The Director is looking out for you y’know? Every phynetic tells me she’s a wee bit intense, but she just likes to be clear in her instruction. She’s been gnawing my ear to bits for years now so trust me.”
He met the girls inquisitive glance with a less hearty chuckle.
“So don’t be afraid to ask questions. The— Director Lang!”
She was a bespectacled woman in a lab coat, with greying hair that glowed silver in the odd lighting of the chamber. She wasn’t all that tall, especially for an ajumeoni, but it may have seemed that way because of the 5 other people beside her. They moved in perfect sync with each other along the bridge, their robes indistinguishable from the void around them.
“Barker? Is that the new arrival?”
“Yes, she’s had a few stumbles but she’s ready for orientation. I’m not too early, am I?”
“It’s not an issue. We just finished devising the plans for the kinetoglyph wing.”
“Aye, that’s pure barry!”
“My headaches are the stuff of their dreams.” She hummed a sound like a chuckle with reservations. She then looked at Zena, it was a different gaze than Adams, like she was some figure up for review. She pulled Barker a few steps away from Zena and began to whisper.
‘Please… guest… garage.’ That’s all she could make out from lips.
She handed Barker a folder.
‘…Albert. Meet…finish… looks over them.’
“Aye, Adams report!” He blurted out. “Count on it, we’ll have him ready to ship out promptly!”
Zena had become used to it; all the planning around her like she wasn’t even there. It just made her more annoyed. When would things be different?
“Sync at oh three hundred hours in CST. I’ll alert Talloran.”
“Absolutely! Right this way sir.”
The people continued to the elevator, not losing a step in their formation. Up close she noticed it ran deeper than she thought, as they all had the same face. They surrounded Barker who promptly started the elevator. Not even a wave goodbye. When…
“Who were those guys?”
“No one you need to concern yourself with. Now…” She gestured towards the bridge.
“Ok.” Could have gone worse.
“Welcome to Auxiliary Research Facility 120, SCP 2599. I am the Director of this facility Anna Lang.”
Zena jolted hearing the name, tripping over her own feet.
“Like…the Lang-Scranton stabilizer Anna Lang?” She said with wide eyes.
“Do people at 118 still speak of such an old thing?”
“It was the foundation for the SRA! Ontokinetics would be years behind without it!”
“Oh? What interest would an SCP with a scandal like yours have in the study of ontokinetics?”
“Sorry!” She recoiled. She almost took a step back before remembering why she was here in the first place.
“I’m not all that interested. I just overheard some things, Dr. Wensley would say.”
“Right, Dr. Wensley. I would have assumed it was the two introductions to ontokinetics volumes Dr. Aktus smuggled for you.”
“I-I’m sorry! He told me it would be ok! Karl’s not in trouble, is he?"
“Normally that’d be grounds for demotion at best, however Dr. Aktus is a seasoned researcher with even more years than myself. I’m sure he had his reasons for trusting you.”
Zena sighed in relief. She hadn’t noticed Director Lang had advanced quite far along the bridge.
“So, I hope you can help me understand those reasons.” Lang spoke as Zena rushed to meet her.
“Oh, I’d love to. Do you have any Rubik’s cubes?”
“What?” Lang stopped suddenly. “What do you plan to do with that?”
“I was able to change the dimensions of a Rubik’s cube without leaving a residual.”
Now she stared at her like a puzzle.
“He said it was really impressive and uh that was why…he wanted…me to uh come here.”
Dr. Lang looked away and covered her mouth. “I meant— in regard to your contain—ment, not your anomalous—properties.” She took a deep breath then faced the subject again. “I trust this will be the only time it needs to be said to refrain from creating any unsanctioned ontokinetic disturbances outside of testing.”
“Yes ma’am! Sorry.” She had to slow down. A lot had happened, but this was still the Foundation. Never get too comfortable.
“I will add that it is also important from this point onward to refrain from forging any…complicated relationships with staff. I trust your presence here means I don’t have to elaborate.”
She didn’t need to, and Zena hoped she wouldn’t. Her footsteps slowed down, she felt sick enough walking through this strange place, just thinking about those times at 118 was enough to nauseate her.
Not here.
She wasted enough time. She didn’t know what to expect but she knew what she needed more than anything else.
“Excuse me, Director Lang!” Lang stopped to see the girl standing still as a statue. “I want to apologize for what happened at site 118. My memory is still hazy, but I won’t use that to excuse my actions. I know it may be hard to believe, but I wish to keep the world safe like the researchers do. So I want to redeem myself, and do good work here at facility 120. I hope I can regain your trust.”
Lang mused as 2599 bowed again. Any longer and the girl's knees would end up touching the floor. “I will hold you to that then.”
They moved through the hallways and the tension quietly. The light got brighter as they walked and she could see each bridge started vertically, descending from some structure above. Creatures that would be at home in the Mariana were swimming from bridge to bridge, she quietly wondered what they were.
Occasionally Lang would chime in about protocol and curfews. It was different from stalking the halls with Wensley. It was more like those early morning walks with Halmeoni.
Occasionally an anglerfish would spawn from the void and shine its bulb over them. Director Lang would tap it to wave her hand and it would move on, denied whatever it was requesting.
They had only walked forward and yet they were ever higher. Even higher above them was the sun the tentacles emerged from. The object and the myriad bridges sprouting from it reflected the iridescence throughout the void. A disco ball spun by a jellyfish as far “outta sight” as you could get.
The road they were on led to a building that looked like a lighthouse beneath it.
When they entered it wasn’t much more than an office inside with a few people. Zena glanced around the office. There were some portraits around but not much besides the desks and computers. A bespectacled man put his hand up as soon as they entered.
"Oh three hundred, Sol."
He raised one finger, then another. After the the third he closed his fist
"Antre." He pointed to a door in the back Director Lang wasted no time walking through. Zena awkwardly waved while following, to no reaction. Barker was the weird one to greet people.
As she closed the door behind them, she was startled to notice it vanish completely at the end of her blink.
“So—” She walked away from the wall trying to find anything else to focus on. “Is this where I’m going to get tagged?”
She suddenly snatched the back of her neck like it had been stung.
“Already done.”
She turned around to see Director Lang put aside a small device shaped like someone had tried to make a pistol from a crossbow. She started to feel something tighten around her body. She brought a finger to her neck as if ordered. Some of the skin felt raised and tender like a keloid had formed, but she couldn’t trust she wasn’t hallucinating the feeling. Given how clearly she mapped out the numbers 2 5 9 9, she reasoned this was her “tag”.
“You may feel something like “pain” for a little while but it goes away quickly." Director Lang had already started typing something on the computer in front of her.
The pain did go away but there was nothing comforting about having a tracking chip in her neck. Nothing comforting about the director clacking away all the weird and dangerous things she had been saying and doing.
“Once I get Wensley’s report your file should be complete. Afterwards, Barker will give you the tour of the facility.”
Zena thought to ask if there would be any other humiliating rituals before she could meet the other SCP’s but upon noticing a small chair in the corner, chose wisely and parked.
She tried not to let her thoughts wander. However things would go next, she knew the most likely candidate to blow things for her was skin deep. All she could do was wait until Director Lang ceased her typing to massage her fingers.
“…So—”
“What can you tell me about ontokinetics?”
“Oh! L-Like…” Zena was annoyed at first, but with those piercing jade eyes on her, expecting, she began to regret her wish for attention. “Something in particular?”
“Your personal interest? Or does it start and end at controlling your anomaly?”
She wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but she knew when she was being tested.
“They were only introductions, and I didn’t understand some of it, but the idea of everything being connected was interesting.”
“It’s a fascinating rabbit hole to explore. I won't deny that. But in practice, ontokinetic related injuries have some of the lowest chances of survival among anomalous.
“Oh…”
“Of course, that was the case seventeen years ago. In recent years, ORIs have had the lowest mortality rates amongst all our departments, thanks to years of dedicated research, of course.”
“I guess that’s why everyone was so comfortable.” Zena failed to restrain the sardonic tone in her voice.
“Comfortable?” So did Director Lang.
“I’ve been in this field for a long time. Before there were designations like “type green” or “phynetic”. If there’s one thing that’s remained consistent with reality, it is that you are never in control of it. Even so-called reality warpers.”
“It feels like especially them.”
Lang eyed the girl curiously, shifting her posture to lean away from her precious keyboard. “I’m sure it has caused your fair share of grief.”
“My mom told me to clean my room, and I couldn’t finish. When she yelled at me, I froze up.” It felt ridiculous saying it out loud. “The worst part is not even knowing why. Just one day everything was different, that's it.”
“That is common to most stories here at the foundation. Anomalous or otherwise. How suddenly these things happen is the Foundation’s greatest disadvantage.”
She leaned back in her chair, feeling the strain of age on her eyes and lumbar.
“The fear of the unknown is to be respected and yet we challenge it at every opportunity. Such is the fate of humanity, at least that’s what my predecessors would have you believe. Personally, I believe fate has its place, it maintains some theories, but it is far too fickle a premise to rely any judgement on.”
Zena started to understand why they were so insistent on this comradery. It was sensible but, in her experience, she would never be treated as an equal.
“One of my cousins was a reality warper.”
“Huh, really?” Zena's reply carried more shock than she could contain. “How did your family deal with it?”
“I only saw her at family gatherings, or when she would run from home. I had more than enough reasons to assume our family wasn’t particularly proud of her. But as children, when I saw her, she would be filled with the simple joy of a child. Just so excited to show me her next spell.” She spoke as factually as ever but her voice became slower and softer as she continued.
“That sounds…” The word “nice” got stuck in Zena’s throat. It was bad enough with her parents, she couldn’t imagine how the rest of her family would react to a busted witch.
“So, when I heard she was part of a cult kidnapping people and bringing them to the Tianzi mountains, I was shocked despite my efforts to be understanding.”
“What?”
“I was a young agent then and I was assigned to close her file. Certainly, a vexing a job among many others."
“That’s…I’m so sorry Director Lang.”
“I retired before swearing myself entirely to study that would help me accept some uncomfortable truths.” She continued her apparent monologue.
Whatever came next, Zena knew she would have to endure it. It was too late to give up.
“Namely that reality warpers are conditioned by a variety of factors to interpret the world differently. It’s what makes them more prone to mania.”
“Oh.” That was a lot more than she expected to endure.
“Yes, as problematic as it may sound, the research has remained consistent. The brain tries to conserve energy as much as possible in its functions. Many think of the ability to warp reality as an answer to fulfill any desires, the brain only really desires efficiency. Reality is, to simplify it greatly, constructed by layers upon layers of information that is constantly being distorted. While the result is perfect for us to survive, our inability to understand our reality, this deep in our development as a species, speaks to how inefficient it is to our brains to attempt to decipher it. ”
Zena was quiet, for a while. It was all quiet for a while. “…So I really am sick…”
“Proper terminology is important. To be sick would imply you were infected or something else that would make this state unnatural or involuntary. What we have learned is that as anomalous as it is to our normalcy standards, ontokinesis involves manipulating naturally occurring systems of reality. As most systems there are components in place to maintain balance.”
“I think I get it. Efficient, right?” She wasn't sick, she was just born wrong.
The Director tapped her fingers on the desk, each beat a bit processing in her mind.
"English is your second language, right? Did you have any difficulty?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Her shrill cry stopped sharp.
"More than you'd think. Life finds so many different ways to communicate. Humans came up with language, and through language we became able to tell stories. Asheworth was a linguist before ever being discovered by the foundation."
"Among all the sciences and pagan practices, history will prove the linguist were the first true reality benders of mankind." There was some quote like that by him in the 2nd volume.
"Well it narrows things by quite a lot, but understanding ontokinetics is understanding communication, then using that communication to carry on and preserve information. In that way reality bending is as simple, and as arbitrary, as simply living your life. Just like life, if you're incapable of proper communication, reality bending becomes incredibly difficult, to perform, to defend against and most importantly how to counteract."
She rarely thought about being attacked with reality bending despite everything that had happened to her. She hated how often she felt targeted by reality, but she hadn't thought about someone like her directly interfering with her life. It made things more personal.
"The reason it is so taxing for type greens like yourself is because it would be the same as asking you to hold a conversation with every creature, every chemical, every atom and subatomic particle. My own record is nine people in one conference call. Every one of them a…strong personality to say the least."
“Oh, now I—but if that’s the case what’s the point if I’m going to go crazy anyway?” The words slipped out before she realized.
“Well, what we’ve figured out is that the real danger in Ontokinetics is a lack of proper education.
That’s what really exposes benders to a world unfit for them and leads them to become threats. Benders, for all their power, tend to be manipulated and abused more often than the reverse, as we used to believe.”
“…easy to lie to.”
“Manipulation doesn’t always begin with a lie. More often it begins with someone in isolation. As social creatures, our minds work best with others. When restrained through isolation, an abusive upbringing or generally inhospitable conditions, the average person becomes at risk for depression, anxiety and among many other things psychosis.”
It sounded like just being a loser would be enough to drive her insane.
The Director was quiet for a moment, the only sound being a steadily faster tapping of her fingers on the desk. She then sighed breaking up the rhythm. “These things are much easier to explain with an understanding of the Causal Hierarchy Array.”
“The what?”
“For now, it is important to consider your well being over your ontokinetic properties passed testing.”
“Then that’s great, right? If I learn more about ontokinetics and make friends, I can avoid going crazy.”
“It won’t be necessary for you to study directly.”
“But…I thought…”
“As I said, it is a complex process altering reality. It leaves trauma in the brain every time a green like yourself does so. It’s the indulgence in exploring their abilities that leads a reality bender down the path to isolation, mental deterioration and inevitably death.”
“So then what can I do?”
“We’ve done the research. Part of communication is trust. We will guide you appropriately on how to apply your anomaly. You can socialize with your peers here at the facility as well, that is very important. Although unfortunately, we don’t have all that many in your age range at the…”
Zena didn’t have much to argue with. But it was like her father telling her how important it was to be kind and make friends. Of course she wanted friends but even if she hadn’t planned it, she had been dangerous for most of her time at the foundation.
“…our goal as an organization is to reduce the number of anomalous incidents that are necessary. My work here, and why this facility exists is ultimately so people like you can live safely and freely.”
Her words seemed sincere. That made it even more difficult to swallow such an uncomfortable truth.
“That makes sense.” Zena muttered.
So much sense she couldn’t think of an argument against it or a need for one. She wasn’t in a room, and she got confirmation she wasn’t crazy. But she still found it difficult to walk.
“That would be for the best, wouldn’t it? Everything at the foundation moves so fast and changes so much.”
“I hope that is enough to satisfy your curiosity. Ontokinetics aren’t as wonderous a field as you may have assumed, sadly.”
“I guess it does sound scary. Even the ride here was strange.”
“I can imagine. Rest assured your roll here is a simple one so there's no need to stress yourself any further than maintaining your composure during our testing.”
“It feels like everyone keeps telling me to chill out. I hope it isn’t a sign I’m losing my mind already, but I think even this planet has, heh.”
“Planet?”
“Sorry, I just assumed. Honestly, my first guess was that it was a low hume reality, but that doesn’t feel right either. I mean if it’s the whole processing part of reality warping that makes us go crazy, I should feel less anxious right? I don’t think I really process anything whenever I do stuff, anyway.”
“It depends.”
“Right, you guys know what’s going on. I’m kind of curious to know what this whole place really is, but I guess it doesn’t matter if I get it or not.”
“No it…the introductions cover parallel realities?” It was the first time the woman’s eyes lit up or she sounded unassured of anything.
“Oh no, they didn’t really. Volume two gives some examples of how hume levels affect your perception of an environment and the trip here just made me think of like, low hume realities. I was just assuming. Guess I should stop doing that, heh.”
“Huh…” Director Lang tapped her fingers on the desk.
She looked towards the door and uttered it again before turning back to her screen.
Zena wondered what kind of landmine she stepped on and prepared an apology.
“Are you familiar with Caldmann and Rzweski’s work with humes?”
“Oh! Yes! That humes can be thought of as a thin layer of sand covering the universe.”
“Excellent.” She had begun typing again. “But it’s important to keep in mind that humes are just a measurement of the amount of reality being exerted. Not particles of reality themselves.”
“Right.”
A loud crash of metal echoed in the room like a shotgun blast.
“I’M SORRY!” Zena dropped to her knees with her hands over her ears.
“It’s a safety protocol. You’re alright.”
When Zena wiped her eyes and her ears stopped ringing, she could see she was in an auditorium where the walls around and above her were buzzing with static. A glow filled the room, similar to the tentacles outside. Director Lang was standing next to a pair of chairs in the center, gently waving her hand for Zena to join her.
As she walked to take her chair, the static started to fade away, synchronizing together into a scene like an old documentary sprawling across the auditorium.
Zena came to the seat and knelt on her knees in it, surprised to see a bunch of people walking around machines that would be right at home in some of her father’s favorite movies scurrying about. She started to smell the stink of exhaust and rusty steel.
“To begin to understand where we are and its importance to ontokinetics, we need to understand our history.” Lang’s voice wasn’t drowned out by the very real sounding clashing of metal and ringing of glass. If anything it reverberated through her body.
“Since our start in the late 19th century, we were able to figure out reality had levels, and those levels could be measured. For little over half a century, that was it.” Then a man with a wizardly mane came into view with something glowing in his hands.
“Then Macarthy discovered the Descan. The building block of reality.” He released the glowing orb in his hand and it circled around him. “Our journey to understanding existence seemed a bit brighter.”
The orb dispersed into a tiny cloud of light. Soon those fish came, feeding on the cloud.
“Asheworth created a design, and soon we had a method to make our own pocket realities and soon we had the Scranton Reality Anchor. We became unbound to the study of our universe and the secrets beyond it.”
Zena wrestled with her questions in her seat, immersing herself into the display as more orbs spawned.
“Our understanding quickly advanced, and in time it seemed there were few mysteries left to solve in reality. But as reality likes to do, it proved us wrong. Its proof taking the shape of this remote place in reality.”
The orbs burst into polychromatic static, flowing from wall to wall, blowing away the machines into dust in the process.
“We tried dimension, plane, realm, even narrative. But none of the concepts we came to understand held weight the more we dove into its depths. Eventually we settled on it being an SCP itself and designated 3001.”
“Places can be SCPs?” Zena couldn’t help but interject.
“Anything deviating from its normal system can be considered anomalous. Even dimensions. Much of our work here has been debating the nature of this realm. Initially we thought of it as a slip between realities but our time here has shown it to be a little more complicated than that. Some liked pseudo-reality, but it didn’t catch on."
“What do you call it Director?”
“l’ve called it a few names in my time studying. For a long time, I theorized this was something akin to a reality sink that removes objects that disrupt reality…and when not that, some form of hell."
"Oh."
"But it's changed quite a lot since then.” Director Lang chuckled.
She recognized that kind of talk. How much did this place take from her?
“Although, one of the students said it reminded him of a setting in one of his graphic novels. I think he called it Lacuna Lagoon.”
“Oh Ace the Crusader, I know that one! The town was so cute in the book. This place not so much, heh.”
“I would agree.” Lang giggled with her.
“Oh! Sorry, you were saying this place isn’t really reality even though it feels like we’re really here.”
“The fascinating thing about science, is that for every question answered several new ones emerge. So even something we once agreed was an immutable law, suddenly takes flight when we ask the right questions. The simple ones, like ‘what’s wrong with this picture?’”
Static became sand descending.
“So let’s expand our sand analogy to a sandcastle.” It began to form an intricate structure rising several meters above them.
“Let’s consider consensus reality a white sandcastle. We may discover an orange sandcastle or even a pink, but it would still be a sandcastle. Certainly sand isn’t renowned for its structural integrity, but that’s also what makes it so apt a comparison to reality. Reality is very fragile and more malleable than we like to think. That's why we've worked tirelessly to maintain it. So imagine if it were possible for reality to be held together from something even less rigid and more uncooperative than "sand", like water?
“What? How could–well I guess you could freeze it, right?”
“You certainly could remove the challenge entirely. But that’d be building an object, not reality. Reality is a system that functions when everything within it is able to flow freely, until it synchronizes. Our material can’t be too rigid. But it also can’t be too flimsy.”
“But if we’re calling reality sand, then what would we call water?”
“Questions like that continued to guide theory. What makes realities so drastically or subtly different? What if the measure of reality could be defined in terms other than humes? What if there could be structure in something that was fundamentally not real and could it be defined?”
“Like unreality?”
“That’s a close guess, but unreality[ would be more like the black sandcastle here to our white. A complete antithesis to reality but defined by its principles, nonetheless. What we have in this realm is something much less distinct between real and unreal. A point between when information has a structure and when it has meaning.”
“…Surreality?”
Director Lang smiled as a violet rain showered the sandcastle.
“We’re standing in the first discovered Surreality. Unlike the realities we’ve constructed for our own purposes this place emerged from the proverbial ether. Unknown and undefined yet pulsing with structure we still don’t understand. Now we knew what we know as existence, is measured in more than just reality.”
“You guys were able to make this huge facility in a place that only ‘kind of’ exists. It’s hard to even think about how it works.”
It was hard to keep up with everything and the broad strokes made it hard to focus on what questions to ask first. “How was any of this possible?”
The Director seemed to ponder for a moment. “Maybe it is better if you have a full understanding.”
With the violet pool a massive jellyfish rose out floating listlessly in the dome.
“There was a time where traversing even your average dimension was a huge risk. Even now it’s still not easy.”
Zena could see inside it this time, and noticed a familiar structure. She couldn’t describe it from Karl’s video but now it was clear it was some kind machine. The way it was shaped and bent made it seem more art than science.
“This is The Lotus. The answer to your question.”
“What does it do?”
“The Lotus is an SRA in a field of its own. It can manipulate reality like a bender itself. With our years of research we were able to develop programs to navigate the process of reality warping. In spaces like this, it’s like our own submarine.”
“So…she’s protecting us?”
“That’s one way to put it. With The Lotus we can make any adjustments to reality as we’ve programmed it here.”
“Like you can do anything?”
“It’d be more accurate to say wherever reality takes us we can respond accordingly.”
The images changed to a wall of portraits.
“There’s still much work to be done in unravelling the mysteries of existence, but with The Lotus we can safely say we’re on our way to an honest conversation with her and everything she intends to offer.”
“Wow…”
There really wasn’t a need for her to study. These people had already conquered reality. She was the reality warper and she couldn’t do that. Ten years, right? Just ten years, if they could conquer reality, they could fix her for sure.
“Did I move too fast?”
“No, it’s just…”
She noticed Director Lang’s face among the many on the wall. One with jet black hair and a dignified smile that seemed to have shrunk with time.
“I just think it’s amazing you’ve been able to do so much. My mom always wanted me to do something amazing, but I guess I lost my chance.”
Lang looked across the sea of faces, having a story for each of them. The one she was reminiscing about now was a scrawny young man who always measured twenty times and never cut. She remembered the pressure he felt to make a weapon that would save humanity from the boogeymen of the anomalous or abandon the project and be a pariah.
She approached Zena and raised out her hand. “It’s important you understand, 2599.”
Zena obliged and took her hand, walking away from the chair.
“None of this was made possible on the whims or actions of a single person.”
As they walked the faces vanished and people began to fade into the room. Some of them researchers posing for pictures, others engineers working in a lab, some agents running cardio drills.
“Every loss was an unnecessary sacrifice.”
She noticed they weren’t alone in their march through the expanding theater.
“If Chadmann and Rzewski had not theorized reality had levels that could be measured, ontokinetics as a field would be decades behind.”
The authors of those introductions followed closely behind them, debating each other on theory.
“Without humes as a measurement, then Macarthy would not have developed the first Kant counter.”
The wizardly man appeared again beside them, much older and now tinkering with a tool in his hands.
“Without that, Robert and Anna would not have begun research into a method of regulating hume levels.”
Director Lang started to match her photo as Scranton now appeared beside her.
They stopped as more people appeared.
“Macarthy Jr. would go on to isolate the Descan. Once just a theoretical particle in his father's notes. When Ashworth theorized there was a perceptible flow to narrative, we proved it was true in discovering the Causal Heirarchal Array. We wouldn’t have found that proof without Namamara’s hypothetical demon and all the studies that came with it. All that research and so much more culminated in our understanding.”
The dome began to wobble, it became easier to walk but everything else started to move slower.
“We had always known reality had a form, we knew it had a measure, here we learned reality also had an energy. There is still plenty more for us to learn about reality.”
They stood in the center of the crowd of researchers.
“The Lotus did not give us control over reality. It was our faith that every setback was a project to complete, that every wall was a milestone waiting, and every loss a reminder of why we do the work we do and continue to pursue greater understanding with reality.”
Monitors appeared around them, each displaying videos of people on Earth. Not researchers, the people she used to know. Farmers tilling a field, students in a classroom, construction workers pounding their hammers, a festival in a village by the coast, A basketball game in a high school court, fleets of ships crossing the seas, Surgeons preparing in the ER, Chefs navigating a kitchen preparing a full course and so many more.
“That is the power of humanity; the power to create our own fate, through careful measure of our past mistakes.”
Displayed in front of her now was a group photo, featuring researchers standing side by side down the length a bridge in the hall of roads. The Lotus was in the frame, shining even through the visage. Below them on the bridge the was a large plaque, but Zena couldn’t read the words through her blurry vision.
“I…” She felt like she understood ontokinology for the first time and fell in love right there.
Lang had wondered if she could ever create that look of awe and excitement in someone ever again. It was looks of envy once, then looks of pity for such a long time, now she hardly had time to concern herself with the looks she would garner. But that intrigue and aspiration in her students gave her a warmth that could compare only to the way he would look at her, as if she was the next mystery of reality he was determined to understand. To have found it again in the smile of an SCP, a bender at that, was an irony sweeter than anything reality had ever offered her before.
“I hope that was informative enough. I still couldn’t advise an SCP to partake in research, especially of her own anomaly.
The room began to close in. The researchers had vanished, and the desk had returned.
“But if you find yourself curious about something that you can’t find an answer for, then there’s no harm in asking the question.”
With the room restored, she took her seat at the computer.
“It’s the origin of all breakthroughs, after all.”
“Yes ma’am! Thank you so much!”
“I’ll let Barker in now. Any longer and he’ll start scratching the door.”
“Huh?"
The door returned as Lang finished her sentence. Sure enough, Barker had already opened it.
“I take it she’s all good. Didn’t mean to rush you.”
“You’re fine, Barker. Make sure she’s familiar with the facility and answer any questions she may have.”
“Of course. If you’d come this way, we can begin the tour.”
She gave a short nod and walked over to him.
“Thank you, Director Lang!” She paid her respect with a bow, perhaps a bit too deep for the occasion. She wanted to include “I’ll make you proud.” But she embarrassed herself enough for one day.
The Director waved her off and continued typing away as if nothing had happened.
The halls felt even quieter than before. Barker smiled as he eyed the girl who not long before held trepidation in each step, was practically skipping down the halls lost in her imagination.
“So how'd it go?"
“Oh my god! She’s perf-! I mean…yes its all pretty amazing, gee-hee-hee.”
"She’s quite a lady, I know. Hey, call it a hunch, but I take it yer not to keen on us are ye, Zena?”
Could he blame her? Still, rule 5.
“…I think it’s more I don’t trust myself. Things keep changing so fast I don’t know if I can keep up.”
“Do you trust reality?”
She slowed her step, pondering the question for no longer than 2 seconds.
“No.”
“Neither do we Dah hahahar!” He gave a nudge with his elbow. “So why not bury the hatchet? Give a chance to a little enemy of my enemy, aye?”
“I don’t even know what it means to make reality an enemy.”
“Well, I find when people share a common goal and are willing to put petty differences aside, there's nothing we can’t be doing. A lot of times reality don’t like seeing eye to eye with us on that. Just think of it as a li’l fire in yer gut keeping you motivated.”
“Mmm.”
As they walked through the Hall of Roads, she was able to spot the plaque from the simulation.
//**“Alone, we are books
Together, we are a library
Welcome to Facility 120”**//
Zena looked up, knowing she would see her. It was different seeing up this close, this real. She really was casting the light in this dark room. In the welded bolts and shine of her metal shell, even from Zena’s place below she could see the dot of her own reflection. A tear in the eye, dripping down the bones of her body as it followed her gait.
All of this because she couldn’t clean her room. Forget research, even without an anomaly it seemed one mistake could mean the end of everything. She had given up before because she accepted, she was alone. It didn’t feel like anything really changed, but now she really wanted to make something out of this curse.
“We should be off lass.” Barker chimed in as the girl reached her hand towards Lotus. It was heavy.
They approached the next set of elevators where a group of researchers were waiting.
“Ah Valdes, did you hear the news? Looks like thaumaturgy is getting a new neighbor.”
Valdes, with the same vacant expression he had since the drive, pointed to the group of researchers already discussing the topic of their expanding facility.
Just like that, Barker had replaced himself with Valdes next to her. He barely glanced at her, sucking his teeth as the elevator took its time.
He was tall, she hadn’t gotten a chance to notice before. His scowl wasn’t exactly inviting.
The researchers behind them were engaged with each other, making it feel even more like an eternity. He didn’t talk or move at all, so it was hard to read him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but thank you for bringing us here safely, Mr. Valdes.” She bowed, trying to do anything to break the tension.
He stared at her like she was a lost puppy. He then shook his head.
“Dumb li’l cunt. Can’t you get on with it and neck ye’self for fuck’s sake?”
He knelt to her level and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Alright sunshine, heres a bone for ya on me.” He flashed the warmest smile his staunch face could muster.
“They’re gonna bleed ya dry, and hang your corpse up, for a laugh.”
…
Thank you, Ms. Adams.
Her thoughts were few. Of the ones to surface, this was thankfully the first. She owed her. A lot. She resented it. She accepted it. She appreciated her more than anyone now, even her mother and father. She appreciated how she humbled her on the way here. She thought about the rules she taught her. Verbally. Physically. How childish she must have sounded.
Yes, it was a good conversation in hindsight.
Because without that, Zena was more certain than anything in her bizarre life, that no anomaly, no agent, no Lotus, no fairy, interdimensional creature, spirit, demon, or God of any faith in this reality or the next, would have stopped her from ripping the bastard’s arm off and beating him with it. Again and again. Until he had no more teeth to smile, no throat to vomit laughter from, no eyelids to hide his ratty little sockets!
…
She giggled and gently brushed his hand away, paying no mind to his confusion.
She was a lady. As if she could ever be that girl.
Never again.
She would not roll in the mud with every dickhead who would mock her. Reality had been laughing at her for long enough and a punchline ending with her fucking up age shaping research was exactly the way it expected her to die.
“Dr. Barker, may I have something to write with.” She interrupted an apparently hilarious conversation. “Actually, if I could have a notebook or a journal that’d be better. I’m not trying to plan any-”
He put out a hand and one of the researchers beside him handed him a book from his duffle bag before she could finish.
“You don’t need to explain curiosity.” He added a pen from his pocket. “Here. It’ll help for the tour.”
“Thank you.”
She was going to understand everything about this world. Take in the whole picture. She wasn’t going to wait ten years with her heart in her throat hoping it would be the day she was free. She was the reality bender, and reality would behave.