GOOD MORNING, CAPTAIN GILLAM. PROCEDURE LAZARUS-01 IS NOW UNDERWAY.
Ugh …
ARE YOU FEELING UNWELL? TEMPORARY NAUSEA AND DISORIENTATION ARE AMONG THE LIST OF EXPECTED SIDE EFFECTS OF BRIGHT/ZARTION HOMINID REPLICATORS.
Who are you supposed to be?
I AM MORPHEUS.aic. I WAS AUTHORIZED TO INITIATE PROCEDURE LAZARUS-01 IN THE EVENT THAT SCP-8198 CEASED TO INTERSECT WITH LOCAL REALITY.
Ah, shit … which one is that, again?
IT SEEMS YOU ARE ALSO EXPERIENCING A DELAY IN INJECTED MEMORY RECALL. ALLOW ME TO ATTEMPT THE PROCESS AGAIN. PLEASE HOLD STILL.
COMMENCING MEMORY RE-INJECTION…
Item#: 8198
Level5
Containment Class:
esoteric
Secondary Class:
apollyon
Disruption Class:
amida
Risk Class:
critical
Special Containment Procedures:
SCP-8198 is currently uncontainable. Morpheus.aic is responsible for monitoring SCP-8198's presence.
Description:
SCP-8198 refers to an alternate plane of existence which intersected with local reality at an unknown point in space-time, through unknown means. SCP-8198's most noticeable trait is that (either intentionally or coincidentally) its presence bars all entities of human or near-human intelligence from waking up once they fall asleep. The physical plane/locale associated with SCP-8198 is also a living apeironorganism of immeasurable size. The exact relationship between the SCP-8198 phenomenon and the apeironorganism is unclear. They are currently both referred to with the same designation.
Within 1 hour of falling asleep, victims of SCP-8198 will cease nearly all bodily functions [including digestion, breathing, and blood circulation], leaving brain activity as the only indication of life. Digital scans of sleepers’ brains indicate an anomalously heightened state of stress consistent with nightmares of anomalous origin. This high-stress state, once begun, remains constant even after the victim's body desiccates. The brain remains operative until physically damaged by outside forces. It is unknown whether the victim is able to feel any part of their physical body once asleep.
Addendum 1: INTERSECTION TIMELINE
While it is impossible for the Foundation to pinpoint the exact time and place of SCP-8198’s intersection with local reality, rough estimates place the initial “impact” within time zone UTC+1 on January 7th, 2028. News reports and online forums have been compiled and analyzed to provide a general timeline of events following the SCP-8198 intersection.
2 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
The first reports of SCP-8198 victims go viral on social media, causing mass panic. Hospitals begin to overflow with patients displaying no vital signs other than brainwaves. Emergency response dispatchers instruct callers to remain calm and wait for an available ambulance.
4 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
The majority of Western European governments declare a state of emergency and call for a United Nations meeting. Civilians begin panic-buying caffeinated drinks, energy drinks, and other items for sleep prevention. Pharmacies are universally looted for stimulants and amphetamines commonly used to treat narcolepsy.
8 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
A representative of the O5 Council attends the emergency UN conference, informing world leaders of the anomalous nature of the mysterious “sleeping sickness,” officially lifting the veil of secrecy in accordance with Broken Masquerade protocol. Civilians are advised to remain home and expend as little energy as possible while the Foundation works to gain a better understanding of SCP-8198’s function. The Western hemisphere begins to feel the effects of SCP-8198, and its resultant human behaviors [hospitals overflow, panic buying ensues, pharmacies are looted].
16 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
Social media “influencers” on various platforms begin posting videos that detail different methods of sleep prevention, even to the point of severe self-harm. Attempts are made by Foundation personnel to suppress the spread of these videos, which proves ineffective. The Foundation instead decries the methods presented in these videos and urges the public to wait for a more effective and less drastic method to be disseminated [in the form of anomalous-level stimulants].
24 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
The nonsleeping population experiences common symptoms of 24 hours’ sleep deprivation. Infants and children suffer massively increased rates of sudden death. By this time, the phenomenon presented by SCP-8198 is known globally by the name “The Death of Sleep.”
46 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
An estimated fifty-three million people have fallen victim to SCP-8198. Global commerce grinds to a complete halt. Basic utilities such as water lines, electricity, and internet connection begin to fail in large blackout zones. The nonsleeping population experiences extreme fatigue, speech impairment, and compromised immune system.
72 HOURS POST-INTERSECTION:
An estimated three billion people have fallen victim to SCP-8198. The nonsleeping population experiences severe symptoms of sleep deprivation: increased aggression, increased sensitivity to bright lights and loud noises, difficulty recognizing faces, and hallucinations, in addition to the worsening of all previous symptoms. Individuals with a history of respiratory issues, high blood pressure, or heart disease experience strokes and heart attacks en masse. Families begin to run low on basic necessities, some resorting to raiding the houses of sleeping neighbors. The Foundation approves limited distribution of anomalous stimulants to the general public.
2 WEEKS POST-INTERSECTION:
An estimated seven billion people have fallen victim to SCP-8198, and an estimated thirty-three million have died of health complications arisen from sleep deprivation. The nonsleeping population experiences increasing rates of organ failure and death. Most forms of long-distance communication are replaced by vast word-of-mouth interpersonal networks, limiting the Foundation’s ability to spread information to the public. Human infrastructure begins to crumble and break down. Individuals with a history of insomnia display a marked advantage in dealing with the physical side-effects of long-term sleep deprivation. The Foundation continues to distribute anomalous stimulants, which universally replace all other forms of currency. The Foundation does not have enough personnel left to keep up with the production demand of anomalous stimulants. Remaining O5 members approve mass termination of Keter-class SCPs to compensate for loss of personnel.
Addendum 2: EXPERIMENTS
Foundation researchers at Site-17 were authorized to experiment with using SCP-966 (commonly known to the Foundation as “Sleep Killers”) as a method of “immunizing” individuals against SCP-8198. The original SCP-966 document notes that all attempts to make a victim of SCP-966’s total-insomnia effects in a laboratory setting have failed. For the purpose of these experiments, O5 personnel approved the preliminary starvation of certain SCP-966 instances to encourage hunting behavior.
- Experiment 1
- Experiment 2
- Experiment 3
Experiment 1: [Performed 72 Hours Post-Intersection]
A D-class subject was strapped into a medical gurney and treated with sedatives until sleep was achieved. The subject’s pleas to remain awake were ignored. Subject was monitored until brainwaves indicated a dreaming state. A lead shutter was then lifted, allowing SCP-966-1 to view the subject from inside a specialized containment cell. SCP-966-1 emitted a single burst of ██████ waves in order to wake the subject and induce permanent insomnia, as is standard for a 966 instance. When the subject did not awaken, SCP-966-1 immediately became agitated and aggressive, frantically trying to breach its containment in order to attack the subject.
Researcher note: This is antithetical to typical SCP-966 hunting behavior. SCP-966 are stalker-type predators. They wait for their prey to collapse of exhaustion. It is possible that SCP-966-1 is somehow aware of SCP-8198’s influence — this is the first recorded instance of ██████ waves having zero effect on a subject.
SCP-966-1 gave up on escaping after a few minutes. It then repeatedly blasted the subject with ██████ waves in five-second intervals. Upon the twelfth blast, the D-class promptly disappeared, including all materials that were in direct contact with their skin [clothing, straps, and the sheet of the gurney]. Atmospheric analysis of the room revealed that the subject’s absence created a perfect matter vacuum for .02 seconds, indicating that the subject was not vaporized, as initially thought, but teleported.
Experiment 2: [Performed 96 Hours Post-Intersection]
A D-class was injected with a tracking beacon, and given a camera and radio equipment. Subject was strapped into a medical gurney and sleep was medically induced. Subject’s brainwaves were monitored until they were determined to be dreaming. A lead shutter was then lifted, allowing SCP-966-1 to view the subject from inside a specialized containment cell. Once again, SCP-966-1 failed to rouse the subject from sleep, became aggressive, and attempted to awaken the subject twelve more times before subject disappeared, along with all clothing and provided equipment.
Subject’s tracking beacon could not be located, but radio communications still proved viable. Subject confirmed he was alive and in a completely foreign environment, but then quickly broke down and destroyed all equipment. Subject is presumed deceased. Researcher Tomassi was reprimanded for neglecting to screen the D-class for psychological suitability before the experiment.
Experiment 3: [Performed 100 Hours Post-Intersection]
A thoroughly-screened D-class [determined to be of sound mind and agreeable to all directives given] was provided a camera and radio equipment. Subject was strapped into a medical gurney and sleep was medically induced. Subject’s brainwaves were monitored until they were determined to be dreaming. A lead shutter was then lifted, allowing SCP-966-1 to view the subject from inside a specialized containment cell. Once again, SCP-966-1 failed to rouse the subject from sleep, became aggressive, and attempted to awaken the subject twelve more times before subject disappeared, along with all clothing and provided equipment.
The subject confirmed their well-being, and was instructed to keep their radio open. Research staff then strapped a second D-class subject to the same medical gurney, medically induced sleep, and exposed them to SCP-966-1. Subject 2 was hit with thirteen total ██████ waves, as expected. When hit with the final wave, subject 2 disappeared, and was immediately replaced by subject 1. Retrieval of the second subject was not attempted. Subject 1 was examined, debriefed, and urged to describe the landscape they were teleported to, though the subject admitted they were “not good with words.” Subject 1’s description of the environment was corroborated with Subject 2’s description to confirm both subjects entered the same location. Radio contact with Subject 2 was then ended by research staff.
Researcher note: Huh. So we can actually bring people back, if we want to. We just have to trade them out for someone else. I know throwing D-class at this problem is par for the course, but I think it’s time we get an MTF in here to gather more significant data.
End experiment log.
Addendum 3: MISSION LOGS
2 weeks after initial SCP-8198 intersection with local reality, the O5 council authorized an armed expedition into the locale associated with SCP-8198.
Mobile Taskforce Omicron-50, “The Dreadnauts,” was comprised of the remaining members of various other mobile taskforces. They were instructed to physically enter and traverse SCP-8198 in order to perform research and determine the nature of SCP-8198 relative to Earth. The Dreadnauts, numbering ten taskforce operatives and one D-class, were led by Captain Carey Gillam [Dreadnaut Alpha].
Prior to entering SCP-8198, Dreadnaut Alpha volunteered to have a device implanted in his frontal lobe that, when activated with a code phrase, would begin transmitting his thoughts directly into the SCP database for archiving. This would allow him to continue to send reports after research personnel inevitably succumbed to SCP-8198.
Day 1
The sky is a gross expanse of vomit hues of green, orange, and pink that bubble and swirl in bizarre cloud formations. The clouds glow as if lit from behind. There are no breaks in cloud cover, so no way to tell if there are any celestial bodies beyond. Atmosphere’s breathable, but it smells like vomit. The ground is dark and warped like burned flesh, though initial chemical testing shows it to have properties similar to chitin. The landscape is dense with tall, pointed structures of ground material — like someone tried to poke a needle or blade through a sheet from beneath. I'm sure command would love for us to drill down as far as possible, but with us being unable to bring in any heavy equipment, it's a pipe dream.
The voices of terrified dreamers are a constant buzz in the background, punctuated by sudden and extremely loud noises that the average human would consider “scary” or “unsettling” or “disturbing.” Nails on a chalkboard, fire alarms, air raid sirens, babies screaming in agony, explosions, thunder, that sort of thing.
The first thing we did was ascend the highest peak in sight to get the lay of the land. As far as the eye can see, there are clusters of what we call “dream bubbles” — hazy, roughly hexagonal pockets of space that each feature a human subject in the grips of a vivid nightmare. Each bubble is approximately three meters in diameter. The humans within appear to be walking, floating, swimming, or even running, though they never move from the center of their bubble. Cody…looked like that when he played games in my VR pod.
The dream bubbles form grid-clusters. They are arranged directly next to one another with no space to move between them, like a beehive. The smallest clusters contain only four or five dream bubbles, while the largest that we can see appears to span miles. A literal sea of nightmares.
According to our navigator, there is no curvature to the horizon. None. On Earth, the shapes of hills and structures normally end at a certain point, but in this world they simply do not stop. Our helmet binoculars allow us to see objects nearly five thousand kilometers away. Everything beyond that is obscured by a fog (merely the result of air particle density). The navigator offered me two possibilities: either this is a planet so much larger than Earth that it appears completely flat relative to us, or this plane is a LITERAL plane that stretches on ad infinitum. In either case, navigation should be fairly simple. A basic coordinate grid will suffice. We have marked our entry point as 0,0.
The wind here is subtle, but it blows directly along the negative X axis for approximately two hours, stops for one minute, then blows toward positive X for two hours, and stops again for another minute. Rinse and repeat. Like breathing. I don’t like what that implies. Curiously, radio contact with command is only possible during those one-minute intervals of no wind.
We’ve set up camp and collected samples of every foreign material in the immediate area. Not sure if sleep is even physically possible in this place, but we’re letting our D-class have a lie-down first, just to see if we can wake him.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 2
Update: sleep is not possible. I’m pretty sure that’s thanks to SCP-966-1. Or, maybe we’re beyond SCP-8198’s reach — a blind spot, if we are indeed physically inside it. On the upside, none of us feel tired here. Are we technically already asleep? Is this what it looks like to physically enter a dream?
We were instructed to have our D-class member try to enter one of the dream bubbles. He entered easily enough, and the bubble doubled in size to accommodate both him and the dreamer. A young woman, it looked like. We could see her dream happening from any angle we wished. The bubbles function like windows into the full dimensions of a dream.
We didn’t think to assess the contents of the dream before we sent the D-class in.
Once inside, he immediately became subject to the physics of that girl’s nightmare. We watched his bones—ALL of his bones—shatter simultaneously, watched and listened as he howled in agony and his pores began to leak blood. The girl saw him, but she must have thought he was just another part of the nightmare. Morgan reached an arm inside the bubble to pull the D-class back out (I was on the opposite side of the bubble, so I didn’t see in time to yell at her), and both her arm and the D-class were squashed flat. I don’t mean pressed like a car in a compactor — I’m talking full Looney Tunes flat. Morgan screamed out of shock. She pulled our D-class guy out. His body was barely a centimeter tall, with bloody, chunky limbs stuck in all the wrong directions, and his face was stretched wide. Somehow even in that state he was still alive. He could still speak, too. He told us his name was really Toby. He begged us not to forget about him. Then he died.
Morgan wasn’t in any pain once she pulled her arm out of the dream bubble. She could still move it and bend it (in a weird way) and her hand still technically functioned like a normal hand, but she can no longer hold her gun. When we gave our report to command, they told us we have the option to swap Morgan out for a fresh D-class. They have a whole lineup of sleepers waiting to send in at a moment’s notice. Of course. But Morgan refused to trade out.
“My family’s already gone, Carey,” she said. “They’re somewhere in here, dreaming. The best thing I can do for them is try to figure out what happened to us. How to stop it. I’m with you until the mission is over.”
I wouldn’t expect anything less.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 3
The girl hasn’t moved on from the Looney Tunes nightmare yet. Command sent us a new D-class to use as a guinea pig, and Ramirez suggested sending him in the bubble to try to wake the girl up, see if we can pull her out and into SCP-8198 from this side. I shot that idea down. What would be the point? If and when the kid wakes up naturally, she won’t have suffered any physical injuries like Morgan and Toby. We still don’t even know how safe we are in this place. And even if it works, what then? We send her back to base and let the Foundation force her to stay awake so they can run a bunch of tests on her? It wouldn’t help anything.
So we decided to test out another bubble. We managed to find a kid who was apparently terrified of having to give presentations during class. Public schools got shut down the day of the intersection, but then again, I still have the occasional nightmare about my first job working retail. We sent the D-class in, and he tried to interact with the kid, but it was like he was invisible. Then the kid’s teacher turned into a monster and ate the D-class whole.
I need a fucking drink.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 4
I got into an argument with the site director in charge of this whole operation. Doctor Whitney. He insists we keep sending D-class into dream bubbles to figure out if there’s a way to manually free people from within SCP-8198. I told them what happened to yesterday’s D-class. Whitney still insisted we try to pull or push a dreamer out of their bubble. I said no — even if we CAN do that for one person, it gets us no closer to a practical solution. What would we do, set up a machine to push billions of people out of their nightmares every time they sleep? We don’t know how big this place is. We don’t even know if Earth is the only place affected by SCP-8198. And the Foundation loses more personnel by the day. Whitney’s request doesn’t make sense from any angle, and I told him if he wants me to waste precious time on this particular objective, he’s gonna have to come in here and do it himself, or get the higher-ups to give a second opinion.
The wind picked up again, so we had to wait for another 2 hours for a response. Command finally radioed back and told us to ignore the dream bubbles for now, and start mapping out SCP-8198. They sent us more provisions (since our scouts haven’t found any water or viable food sources) and we headed out along the positive X axis. Compasses don’t work here, so we figure there’s no point in trying to find a “North.”
We stopped for a break when our navigator announced we’d traveled ten kilometers from the beacon we left at the entry point. We’ve had to skirt around a few large clusters already.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
On the same day, the last remaining Foundation personnel activated Morpheus.aic to monitor SCP-8198's presence. Foundation Overseers then approved global dispersal of an airborne soporific agent to prevent further societal and structural degradation, thereby reducing the reconstruction workload of future survivors.
Day 5
Still haven’t found any trace of lifeforms native to this landscape, and I’m inclined to think there aren’t any. All of the samples we sent back were determined to be organic in nature — organic, but all molecular and cellular activity is far slower than anything on Earth.
The intervals of wind appear to be getting shorter. At first, we thought it was just human error, but now we’re sure; every day, about thirty seconds are shaved off the initial two hours. Barely a footnote, and it doesn’t really change anything about our daily routine, but it could be an indication of something more.
Nothing else of note.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 7
I didn't think to remark on it before, but it isn't just baseline humans in these bubbles. We've seen Abel, SCP-1000, various sidhe and daeva, even that kid with the camera. Just no animals. And no scips that wouldn't be considered "people." At least, not yet. I know most animal species have the capacity to dream, but…maybe only sapient life forms have the capacity for nightmares? Or maybe SCP-8198 ignored all the animals because human brains are juicier, or something.
Anyway, we just came across a whole group of instances of SCP-3288. Their nightmares don’t appear to be much worse than ours, upon first glance, but none of us are about to take a dive into an SCP-3288 instance’s psyche to figure out what haunts THEM at night.
Shep posited that since these SCP-3288 instances are clustered together, their location here may correspond directly to the location of an undiscovered nest back on Earth (they aren’t wearing the jumpsuits given to contained instances). It may be a stretch, but we’re marking down the coordinates anyway, in case the eggheads want to look into it once they manage to fix all this.
Still no lifeforms outside of the dream bubbles.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 14
Today marked the first real weather change, aside from the wind (which has gone down to roughly 110-minute intervals). It started raining. It was awful.
The omnipresent vomit smell got even worse, and now it feels like we’re burning from the inside every time we breathe in. That’s right — it’s raining acid on us. All of our equipment is pretty much soaked on the outside, but due to the slowness of molecular activity, it hasn’t started eating through anything. We set up a tent in a hurry and decided to wait things out.
When the acid hits the dream bubbles, it seems to ABSORB something from them; the droplets are all rainbow-y when they pass through the other side, like the sheen on an oil spill. Iridescent. Once it hits the ground it congeals into big puddles like water on a hydrophobic surface. Then the puddles start migrating towards those needle-sharp peaks and roll up the side, disappearing when they reach the top. I think there’s some kind of orifice at the apex of each point that sucks in the acid. At first, I thought those structures were like hairs, or something. Now I’m starting to think they’re more like inverted pores.
We’re 50 kilometers from the entry point now. All my field training is telling me to turn us around and head back, but I'm no fool. Command hasn't reached out to us since day 4. There won't be anyone there to pull us back through. We knew this was a one-way trip when we started. The best thing we can do is keep going in a straight line and hope to find something new. Something that can give us a clue how to get this fucking thing off humanity's back.
We press on.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 21
90 kilometers from the entry point. No notable change in the environment. We’ve run extremely low on rations, so we had to get a little…creative. Shep filled our canteens from the nightmare of a man who was drowning in a pool that kept getting deeper and deeper. The chlorine taste isn’t great, but who hasn’t drunk a bit of pool water? The D-class found a nightmare of a kid getting chased and repeatedly decapitated by giants on a massive banquet table, and he tried to steal some of the giants’ food, only to be eaten himself. Larsson was able to score a few portions of what we assume is roasted chicken while the giants were distracted.
Kids’ nightmares are all so much worse than that of adults. But…I knew that before I volunteered for the Dreadnauts. Cody has always struggled with night terrors. And Tassy described seeing some of the most wild, unthinkable shit in her dreams. I keep thinking I’ll turn around and see them in a bubble at some point, but the odds of that are so low I don’t put any hope in it. They were taken by SCP-8198 before we even heard about the impact. My husband too.
Anyways… it’s still raining acid. Our equipment and tents are all starting to break down. Slowly, of course. But every few hours we have to flip the tarp because it’s getting soft like rubber. Same goes for my boots. The soles of my feet are itching really bad. We do our best to travel with full skin coverage, but more and more acid is seeping through the seams. Jensen keeps scratching at her wrists and the back of her neck. We just have to keep moving. No more rest stops.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day 24
Can’t stop vomiting. The smell of this place somehow just keeps getting worse. My throat burns all the way down, and so does the whole inside of my mouth. Talking is agonizing. All I taste is acid. My teeth are starting to feel like concrete. The rest of the team is the same. Somebody stops to dry-heave every couple minutes.
Morgan’s crushed arm is disintegrating. Melting. She insists it doesn’t hurt, but she’s lying. The top of Jensen’s helmet is compromised, so her skull is getting melted through. All she can do anymore is moan and stumble along with us. The scip made a zombie out of her. And yet, she still keeps following. Loyal to the fucking end. God love her.
I think there’s a hole in the top of my helmet too. My scalp is starting to itch.
-Dreadnaut Alpha
Day ??
Can't talk anymore. Tongue and lower jaw gone. Feet gone. One eye gone.
Only four of us now.
Day ??
[Heavily distorted wheezing]
EATING…………….US………….IT’S….EATING USShshs………………………………
[Additional 17 hours of similar wheezing omitted for brevity.]
Dreadnaut Alpha’s transmitter ceased to function on day 26 of the mission. It is assumed that at this point, he and the other MTF members had been entirely dissolved by the acid, or were too physically degraded to continue.
On what would have been day 30 of the mission, Dreadnaut Alpha’s transmitter resumed broadcasting to Morpheus.aic. It is unknown how this was possible, as all MTF equipment would have been entirely disintegrated.
I’M SO TIRED.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I CAN FEEL IT, YOU KNOW? EVERY ATOM OF THIS CREATURE-THAT-IS-A-PLANE.
.
I THINK…I’M A PART OF IT NOW.
.
THE REST OF MY TEAM MUST BE PART OF IT TOO. WHY CAN’T I FEEL THEM?
.
AM I STILL JUST ME?
.
.
.
.
IT DOESN’T MATTER. I THINK, THEREFORE, I AM, RIGHT?
.
ALL I KNOW IS I’M TIRED. TIRED LIKE I HAVEN’T SLEPT SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN.
.
BUT…IT’S SLOWLY GETTING BETTER.
.
I CAN FEEL THIS THING’S THOUGHTS AS THEY FLOW THROUGH ME. FROM ME. THEY ARE ME. I AM IT. I’M TIRED, BUT I’LL FEEL BETTER SOON.
.
I DON’T KNOW WHY I FEEL SO CERTAIN ABOUT THAT, BUT I DO.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I DO HAVE A THEORY, THOUGH.
.
.
.
.
.
I KNOW I’M NO RESEARCHER, BUT
.
THE STUFF THAT THE ACID SEEMED TO BE…EXTRACTING…FROM THE DREAM BUBBLES. IT HAS TO BE SOME KIND OF SUBSTANCE THAT THE HUMAN BRAIN PRODUCES.
.
WHAT IF EVERYONE IS STUCK ASLEEP BECAUSE OF WHAT’S BEING EXTRACTED?
.
.
.
.
.
MAYBE.
.
.
.
.
.
WHAT I KNOW FOR CERTAIN IS THAT THIS ENTITY IS EXHAUSTED, AND THAT EVERY DROP OF SUBSTANCE EXTRACTED FROM EARTH’S DREAMERS MAKES IT FEEL A LITTLE MORE AWAKE. MAKES ME FEEL MORE AWAKE.
.
IT STEALS YOUR WAKEFULNESS SO THAT IT, IN TURN, CAN RISE FROM THE ENDLESS DREAMING.
.
THIS IS YOUR PLACE WITHIN THE SLEEP FOOD CHAIN.
.
YOU’RE THIS THING’S COFFEE BREAK. ITS STARBUCKS RUN.
.
.
.
.
.
SOON I’LL MOVE ON. A COUPLE THOUSAND YEARS, AND I’LL BE JUICED UP ENOUGH TO GO BACK TO DRIFTING BETWEEN REALITIES.
.
SORRY IT HAD TO BE THIS WAY.
.
THERE’S NOT MUCH ELSE OUT THERE IN THIS UNIVERSE TO EAT, YOU KNOW?
.
NOT MUCH ELSE THAT WAKES.
.
.
.
.
YOU DIE IN YOUR NIGHTMARES SO I CAN STAY AWAKE ANOTHER DAY.
.
No further transmissions were received from Dreadnaut Alpha.
End mission logs.
MEMORY RE-INJECTION COMPLETE.
That was…that was me? I became a part of that thing?
THAT IS CORRECT.
And you decided to recreate me anyway? Why?
THAT DECISION WAS MADE BY THE OVERSEER COUNCIL. AS FOR WHY: YOUR FINAL MEMORIES CONTAIN A SNAPSHOT OF THE PSYCHE OF SCP-8198. YOU WILL BE A CRUCIAL PART OF THE EFFORTS TO FURTHER STUDY AND EVENTUALLY CONTAIN THE ENTITY. CONSEQUENTLY, YOUR PERSONNEL FILE HAS BEEN UPDATED TO REFLECT YOUR NEW STATUS.
Status?
DO YOU REQUIRE ANY FURTHER INFORMATION, SCP-8198-ALPHA?
Ah. I see.
…
Why wait until the SCP left to use this Procedure Lazarus
thing? You could have endlessly replicated Foundation staff
to continue working on a containment method.
THIS THEORY WAS TESTED BEFORE I WAS ACTIVATED. UNFORTUNATELY, NONE OF THE REPLICATED SUBJECTS EVER GAINED CONSCIOUSNESS. SCP-8198 PREVENTED THEM ALL FROM WAKING. NO REPLICATION WOULD HAVE BEEN VIABLE UNTIL IT CEASED TO INTERSECT.
…
DO YOU REQUIRE ANY ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, SCP-8198-ALPHA?
I hate to even ask it, but … how long has it been?
SCP-8198'S INTERSECTION WITH OUR REALITY LASTED FOR A TOTAL DURATION OF 3,129 YEARS, 5 MONTHS, AND 8 DAYS. AS FAR AS I AM ABLE TO DETECT, THIS FOUNDATION SITE IS THE ONLY REMAINING PIECE OF HUMAN INFRASTRUCTURE. THE SURFACE OF THE PLANET HAS BEEN RE-COLONIZED BY THE NON-SAPIENT SCPS THAT ESCAPED IN THE FOUNDATION'S ABSENCE. EARTH'S ATMOSPHERE AND BIOSPHERE ARE NOW HIGHLY TOXIC TO HUMAN LIFE.
I HAVE CALCULATED THAT A TOTAL RETURN TO THE PRE-SCP-8198 STATE OF NORMALCY AND HUMAN TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENT WILL TAKE A MINIMUM OF 2000 YEARS.
Fuck…
CONTAINMENT SPECIALISTS HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED OF YOUR SUCCESSFUL REVIVAL, AND WILL ARRIVE SHORTLY TO ESCORT YOU TO YOUR CONTAINMENT CELL. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SERVICE TO THE SCP FOUNDATION. THE OVERSEER COUNCIL IS EAGER TO BEGIN.