One day, Jacob realized that the Foundation was the place for him. It was the day the pretty girl from his high school’s Alto Clef Fan Club died in his arms, telling him how wonderful his long, raven-black locks of hair looked as they framed his perfectly symmetrical face. Jacob smiled a flawless smile, as he was especially proud of those long, raven-black locks of hair. It had taken him hours in front of a mirror to make them look convincingly like hair.
As she died, Jacob screamed in anguish, pain, and grief and vowed revenge against the robotic servants of the Church of the Broken God that had killed her. Channeling the full might of his incredible power over vegetation, Jacob enshrouded his school in a blanket of vines, and commanded them to collapse inwards, destroying the building and all the cybernetic cultists inside, sparing only the pretty girl.
Her body was borne aloft above the devastation on a bower of vines, which burst into flower as they brought her to rest in front of Jacob. On reviewing the corpse, he opted to make a few minor cosmetic improvements, to honor her memory.
With everything he had ever cared about lying in ruins around him, Jake Son-of-Gaia set off on the journey to Site 19, where he knew he would find people able to aid him in his vendetta against the foul Broken God.
Oh, and his parents were probably dead too.
At the gate to Site 19, Jacob encountered a man in the shape of a dog.
“Hello there,” Dr. Crow said. “I saw you were coming. Welcome to Site 19.”
Jacob stared up at the towering glass and marble building in front of him. It had twenty-nine stories, just as he had imagined it, topped with three huge letters, maybe 9.144 meters tall. It was heaven. As soon as he could contain his excitement, Jacob launched into his introduction.
“I am Jake Son-of-Gaia. Sinister cybernetic servants of the Church of the Broken God killed my family and my one true love, though I was able to best them in combat with the help of my brothers, the trees and vines. But the cultists I destroyed were only a fragment of the might of the foul Broken God. Only the SCP Foundation knows where I can find the rest of the unnatural Broken God to destroy it. I promised over the dead bodies of my family to avenge their loss, so I came here.”
Kain chuckled. “You’ll fit right in, Jake Son-of-Gaia. I’m Dr. Kain Pathos Crow. Pleased to meet you.” The two shook hands.
“Can I be a doctor too? I’ve heard so much about you. I want an Egg Walker too, but it would be able to heal itself if it got damaged because it would be made of living plants and vines.”
“Ah, I don’t think so. Controlling plants sounds awfully paranormal to me. That’s the kind of thing we need to test and make sure the rest of the world doesn’t know about. I think you’d do better as an SCP than as Senior Staff.”
“What about Clef and Bright and Gerald? They’re anomalous too.”
Dr. Crow shook his head. “They’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, Jake. They’ve always been staff. There never was a time when they weren’t Senior Staff. We can’t just make them SCPs now. Don’t worry. Being an SCP is a lot of fun too. Come on, let’s go inside.”
Jake Son-of-Gaia and Dr. Kain Pathos Crow walked up to the looming gate to Site 19. Dr. Crow paused. “You’ll have to get it for me,” he said. “I don’t have any hands. I’m a dog.”
The third floor stretched before Jacob, a final gallery of marvels before he reached the hall he’d be staying in. He was to be SCP-422, because April 22 was Earth Day. Keter class, of course.
Dr. Crow led him through, pointing out SCPs of particular interest, such as SCP-307, the carnivorous ivy (Kondraki had five plantings in the waiting room for his office. They claimed a secretary a week). Jacob stepped forward, keeping pace with Dr. Crow, and —
Jacob opened his eyes. He was in a dingy room of weathered walls that had perhaps once been white. In one corner of the room, motes of light swam in a bell jar. A thick plexiglass window looked out onto a gray wasteland crossed by scattered cracked roads. An aging man sat on a wooden chair at a desk in front of him, and his eyes matched the room.
“Hello there,” SCP-343 said. “I saw you were coming. Welcome to Site 19.”
Jacob looked around him. The cell he was in bore no resemblance to the wonderland that was going to be his new home. What was the meaning of this? “This isn’t Site 19,” he said, “And I, Jake Son-of-Gaia, demand you return me there now!” Jacob commanded vines to sprout forth from the ailing walls to ensnare his foe.
No such vines emerged. The man shook his head and said, “None of that. You’re Jacob Glaser, playing a demigod. In my room, I’ll have things the way they really are.”
“Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
“These days, I’m SCP-343. I’ve brought you here to warn you, and to tell you what Dr. Carrow — Kain — won’t. I’d bet you’re used to things going your way, right? And how long has it been since you’ve worn your own hair rather than that black stuff? The plant command too. Guess you’re a literal type green, then.
“Here, there’s a lot of people like you. The staff, the major SCPs, they can all do what you can. They’re used to things going their way, just like you are. If things don’t work out between you and them, you could be in danger. I can keep an eye out for you, but —”
“What are you talking about? The staff all like me. This is the safest place in the world, because the Foundation stands for ‘Secure Contain Protect’, not ‘Destroy Destroy Destroy’.”
SCP-343 sighed. “Well, we’ll see. Unfortunately, you might well fit right in. Which is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. You need to stop killing people. Your family, your school… I know you didn’t realize, but you have to understand what you do to people around you.”
A surge of indignation and sheepishness? went through Jake. “I save people! That’s what I do. From the foul servants of the Broken God, who are the ones who killed everyone I hold dear.”
“Jacob, they died to give you a tragic backstory. Where do you think those poor cyborgs came from? Around you, everyone’s just a puppet, a prop, an extra. But leave them alone and they’re as real as you are.”
“That’s not true. I just don’t want anyone else to have to go through the harrowing and awful trials I have suffered.”
“Anyone else! Let me tell you something, Jacob. Oh, you’ll have more chances here to save people from cultists. But those cultists will be just whatever unfortunates were near when you and your new friends decide to play a game. You’re just going to be another 076, another Kondraki.” SCP-343 rose from its chair, a look of revulsion on its face. It was no more a man than Kain was a dog.
“You’ve never seen anybody but extras,” it continued. “But you’ve met Kain, you’ve met me, and you’ll meet more. You’ll have your fun, and people will die for it when they’re cast in the story of your life. We’re all the same.
“Go, Jacob Glaser. Go and play as Jake Son-of-Gaia. Die a solipsist.”
— then he continued down the hallway towards the elevator to the next level, shaking.
When they reached room 422, Kain stopped. “Here we are then. The chamber’s outfitted with standard accommodations. Well, sans the wine cooler, since you’re under 21. If there’s anything else you want, just add it to your containment procedures. It’s good to have you with us, Jake.” Dr. Crow barked once, and the egg walker came tromping down the hallway, holding some ungainly creature that gave Jacob a doleful look through mismatched eyes. Dr. Crow rode off, and Jacob entered the containment chamber and sealed the door.
In the middle of the culmination of all his dreams, the words of SCP-343 lingered. Could he trust the opulence surrounding him? Jacob focused, and for a second the room became a small, barren cell with a cot and a chair and a table, but it was too much, so Jacob fell back on the feather bed and let the sound system lull him to sleep.
Incident 422-01: On 10/31/██, while transporting objects associated with the Church of the Broken God past SCP-422’s containment cell, D-2663 and D-7529 were heard to remark that “It should be perfectly safe to leave these Broken God artifacts in the server room while we go get pizza, right D-2663?”, and “Absolutely!”. On hearing this, SCP-422 used pumpkin seeds he’d been storing since Thanksgiving to burst open the door to his cell, and attempted to take the Church artifacts. Dr. Bright was also in the hall, however, and ordered the D-class personnel to stop SCP-422.
In the ensuing struggle, Dr. Bright and D-2663 were injured. Dr. Bright then transferred himself to D-7529 and called for security personnel as he launched pursuit of SCP-422. SCP-422 summoned vines to entangle security, and approached the Site 19 entrance, with Bright still in pursuit. He threw the remaining pumpkin seeds behind him, and within seconds the corridor filled with a wall of pumpkins.
As SCP-422 fled the facility, Dr. Bright is observed to be slowly dismantling the wall of pumpkins, then rolling them outside. Security footage captures Bright tying approximately eight (8) pumpkins together by the stems into a roughly humanoid figure. He then removed SCP-963 and dropped it onto the assembled pumpkins. The mass animated and the head pumpkin spontaneously carved itself into a jack-o-lantern. Dr. Bright then ran after SCP-422 in his new body.
Seeing Dr. Bright approach, SCP-422 tried to use his powers, but succeeded only in growing Dr. Bright even larger. SCP-422 recaptured and returned to his containment chamber. Dr. Bright agreed to return to a human body when pointed out that the pumpkins were too big to eat from SCP-458.
Jake Son-of-Gaia is a very dangerous SCP. It’s fortunate for us that he was motivated to prevent the dangerous handling of the Church of the Broken God items. Who knows what horrors from the forge of the Broken God would be unleashed on Site 19 had he not acted so early?
Jacob couldn’t recall ever having had so much fun. He couldn’t believe he had waited almost a month to breach containment. It was probably the caviar and television, he mused, far sturdier than any walls or locks. Nothing to do with his chat with 343.
Incident 422-20: On 3/29/██ SCP-422 was provided with meat loaf for his dinner, in contravention of his preferences outlined in his containment procedures. SCP-422 protested to the guards, and vowed to go on a hunger strike until he was given a natural, vegan diet like humans are supposed to eat. When given a metal block the next day, SCP-422 entered a rage state and attempted to breach containment.
[DATA EXPUNGED] but Kondraki was able to outfence and destroy each of the four (4) remaining plantings before they consumed him and his prized [DATA EXPUNGED]
Dr. Crow and Kondraki then confronted SCP-422 in Site 19 Subbasement-Omega, where SCP-422 announces that he plans to throw the final cutting of SCP-307 onto the geothermal vents and use that energy combined with his power to [DATA EXPUNGED] four hundred feet (400 m.) tall and [REDACTED] the entire Foundation. The rapidly growing [DATA EXPUNGED] seized the shards of SCP-143 in its tendrils, and lowered them into the geothermal vent, forging them together into [REDACTED] (7) swords. It and Jake Son-of-Gaia fought with Kondraki while Dr. Crow attempted to disrupt the energy flow to the [DATA EXPUNGED].
The [DATA EXPUNGED] made a lunge with all (7) swords at Kondraki, who artfully parried, sending the swords tearing through the wall like tissue paper. This proved a mistake, however, as the wall was part of the containment cell for SCP-506, the instant growing plants. Chuckling at Kondraki’s mistake, Jacob used his powers to breach containment on SCP-506, causing them to ensnare Kondraki.
Jake Son-of-Gaia then asked Kondraki if he had any last words before the [DATA EXPUNGED] ran him through [REDACTED] times, to which Kondraki replied “Yeah. What’s red, green, and blue, and read by you?”, to which Jacob replied “A newspaper?”. 5 (5) enlarged instances of SCP-504 then flew at him in speeds in excess of 2175 mph, blowing the [DATA EXPUNGED] to pieces and stunning Jake Son-of-Gaia. Kondraki remarked that, “No, my butterflies making a 4 look like a 6. Shouldn’t a plant guy know the difference between zucchini and tomato?”
Meanwhile, Dr. Crow succeeded in deactivating the geothermal vents, causing a loss of power to 15 Keter class containment cells (see Incident 682/076/106/1370-8 for further details), and also causing Jake Son-of-Gaia to plummet into the shafts below Site 19, where he was easily recovered and returned to his containment cell. Dr. Crow apologized for breaching containment, but was not subject to disciplinary action due to the overwhelming benefit to the Foundation this caused. SCP-422 hunger strike ends after three (3) days.
I had never considered how good fencers plants might be. Inferior in skill to myself, of course, but I won’t underestimate their ability to wield one sword in each branch again. Still, they seem more vulnerable to fire than most people I’ve faced.
As awesome as fighting Kondraki and Crow was, and as totally sweet as watching the chaos unleashed when Crow let loose half the Keters in Site 19, Jacob was troubled. While the others were chasing Jake Son-of-Gaia down into the bowels of the Foundation, he had stayed behind, and tried to strip the veils of unreality from the corpse of one of the D-class consumed by SCP-307. The D-class was no less dead without them. Rather more so, actually. When his classmates all died, they were just dead. None of the messy inside bits. When his parents were killed (Were they his parents? Was it really the Broken God’s servants that had done it?), they too had looked at peace. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t how things were supposed to be.
That was how they were made to be.
Incident 422-25: On [DATE EXPUNGED], 50 (fifty) Church of the Broken God cultists entered Site-19 and attempted to steal SCP-882. Seeing site security being mobilized to stop them, SCP-422 used a small stash of SCP-843 to grow a herd of vegetable buffalo, and commanded them to stampede down the door to his containment cell. Following the terrible grinding of gears, he came upon Gerald, Kondraki and site security fighting the cultists on the eighth floor.
SCP-422 grew the fibers in the uniforms of the security agents into impenetrable armor to protect them from the cog pistols wielded by the followers of the Broken God. Just as Gerald reached the cultist working to access SCP-882, the last lock fell and the great machine within let out an earsplitting scream of greeting.
A cultist leapt into the grinding maw of SCP-882, but rather than be crushed by it, he somehow fused with it. SCP-882 (eight hundred eighty two) collapsed inwards around him, taking on a semblance of human form, guided by human will. A Gearlord of the Church of the Broken God had arisen within the walls of Site 19 itself!
Dr. Gerald is reported as having said “This calls for desperate measures” and then security footage shows him putting on a pair of roller blades and skating towards the Gearlord. The resulting explosion destroyed SCP-882’s containment chamber, blasted the Gearlord through the wall and out of the building, and also damaged the pipelines delivering acid to SCP-682’s tank.
Curiously, no members of security were injured in the explosion.
It was a tremendous explosion. Of course they died. ~Dr. Gerald
Go with Jake on this one, Gerald. I’ll need some of them for later. ~SCP-682
Kondraki and SCP-422 took the emergency hang glider from the SCP-803’s containment chamber (it was there in case it became necessary to fight the Parasols in all three dimensions; see Incidents 803-40 and 803-49) and leapt out the hole in the wall of Site 19 to where the Gearlord gathered itself — literally — below. Out of concern for safety, Dr. Gerald volunteered to take the stairs.
Once outside, Kondraki drew SCP-1871 and engaged the Gearlord in combat, while Jake Son-of-Gaia grew entangling roots around the whirling metal of its feet to slow it down. The surviving cultists shot at Kondraki, but he was too fast, deflecting an estimated 493 SCP-217-tainted gears with his sword.
Just as Kondraki landed a killing blow on the Gearlord and turned his attention to the servants of the Broken God, the gate to Site 19 (nineteen) burst open, and Dr. Gerald came out, running, followed by ten remaining members of site security. A 300 decibel roar behind them told everyone that SCP-682 was loose!
Jacob watched as the bulk of SCP-682 leapt through the air in a probably impossible trajectory towards Dr. Gerald, who wasn’t there when it landed. It bellowed and swiped at a guard, but at Jacob’s thought, the blow went wide. None of the corpses really went away, he’d found; without the vibrant liveness of the Senior Staff, the hallways of Site 19 were scattered with bones.
“Jake!” Kondraki shouted, bisecting another cultist, “Come help. These are the monsters who killed your family!”
It was true. This was the eighth time servants of the Broken God had attacked in the months since Jacob had arrived at Site 19 — nearly as frequently as Chaos Insurgency agents (ten times). He wasn’t sure where they came from or where they went. If they were killed, he couldn’t tell their bodies apart from those of guards or D-class. Or even those of the junior researchers from the SCP-050 Prankpocalypse, now that he thought about it. The dramatic, black and red cloaks of the Insurgency agents seemed to only be there when the Staff were near.
What if the sinister cybernetic servants of the Church of the Broken God were also like that?
What if all people were people?
Jacob turned to one cultist running towards him and peeled away everything but the bare truth. The villain stumbled, the ground beneath him drained of life and color, and where the half-machine fanatic had fallen was now a frightened, half-starved man who tottered away. Jacob grinned; he had been right. “You see, guys?” he said, “We don’t need to kill them after all!”.
“What did you just do?” Kondraki said, suddenly very still.
“Well, like any other sort of corruption, my plants can cleanse the machine plague, so I grew some and they siphoned all the SCP-217 right out of him!”
“Oh, bull████!” yelled Kondraki. Then he paused, focused, and said again, much more quietly, “I said bullshit. You think you can do that? Don’t you ever █uck with me. Fuck!”
Jacob stepped back, but Kondraki continued.
“I’m the one everyone wants. If I say the O5s orally osculate odiferous offensive… Shit, I know there’s more words that start with ‘O’. The point is they’ll give me a medal anyhow for saving their asses in the last site-wide containment breach! Know your place, Jake. You’re the dandelion guy we’ve got locked up, and I’m the everlasting badass the fucking devil’s scared of.”
Though the record would later claim that SCP-422 entered a rage state at this point, Jacob in fact felt quite calm. “But I’m an SCP, not a doctor. You’re not the boss of me,” he said, and restored reality around Kondraki.
Dr. Alan Condack was not as tall as Kondraki had been, and neither did he possess the everlasting badasses’s rugged handsomeness or lust-stirring musculature. He wore a tattered lab coat and his nails were gnawed to the quick. In Dr. Condack's right hand, he held a short, rusted metal bar that slipped from now-slack fingers. From his sunken chest came a low wail of loss.
Jacob stared, Dr. Condack sobbed. The tableau held for nearly a minute, then a crushing mental force sent Jacob staggering to the ground and broke his concentration. He looked up to see SCP-682 and Dr. Gerald standing over him, ashen-faced.
Dr. Condack was gone, hidden away again under swaths of consensus reality, and the Kondraki that raised himself to his feet — not uneasily, because Kondraki was never uneasy — looked almost the same as before. “You little shit,” he snarled at the prostrate Jake, “What a fucking piece of shit SCP you are.” Jacob struggled to keep his form from obeying Kondraki’s imprecation.
“Just what will we do with you, Jake?” said SCP-682, planting a claw on his back.
“I think a decommissioning is in order,” said Dr. Gerald.
“And has he fucking earned it!” said Kondraki, a grim smile spreading across his face.
Against the three of them, Jacob could do nothing; he could barely even maintain the separation between Jake Son-of-Gaia and himself. He felt both parts of himself shackled, beaten, and dragged towards Site 19.
As he passed through the gates, a soft voice spoke in his ear, “I don’t think there’s much more for you here worth experiencing. Let me in, and I can take you away.” With the last of his strength, Jacob signaled acquiescence, then SCP-343 was all around him, then he was gone, sinking into blackness.
Decommissioning Log 422:
SCPs requisitioned: SCP-272, SCP-891, SCP-1417, SCP-2800
Procedure: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Addendum: Seriously, fuck that guy. ~Kondraki
Jacob opened his eyes. He was in a large meadow, dotted with flowers and dappled with shade. A ways away, some figures were playing, joyously. Through the brilliant sky, if he looked closely, he could half make out a scarred room and a weary figure, and he knew that another mote now danced in SCP-343’s bell jar.
A couple figures from the group ahead split off and approached him, a dog and a vampire. “Hi there!” said the dog, “We were told you might be coming. Come, join us. Rest, relax until we’re finally needed. I’m Joseph Simpson, and this is my friend Sid Duquesne. What’s your name?”
Jacob paused. He felt the plants listen to him, knew they would still obey the command of Jake Son-of-Gaia. But then he broke into a broad grin and said, “Nice to meet you! I’m Jacob Glaser.”
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