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Delfina Ibanez

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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Special Containment Procedures
Description
Addendum 8273-1
Addendum 8273-2
AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED

Item#: SCP-8273

Level5

Containment Class:

esoteric

Secondary Class:

terminarch

Disruption Class:

none

Risk Class:

caution

link to memo

Site-43 Pursuit and Suppression Chief D. Ibanez, SCP-8273.

Special Containment Procedures: None required. The only known anomalous aspect of SCP-8273 is her existence, which is unattested beyond the Veil of Normalcy save for government records fabricated by the SCP Foundation.

Description: SCP-8273 is Site-43 Chief of Pursuit and Suppression Delfina M. Ibanez. She is a baseline human female presently forty-six years of age, standing 125 centimetres (4'1") in height. Her physical health and fitness are unusually high for her biological age, as a combination of intensive personal training and advanced Foundation medical care; resultantly, her apparent age is no higher than thirty-five.

SCP-8273 originates in FP-15, the defunct village of Zevala, Argentine Republic. FP-15 was neutralized in a conflict between the SCP Foundation and GoI-003 (the "Chaos Insurgency") in 1994. The existence of FP-15 was, and remains, unknown to the Government of Argentina. It functioned as a de facto anomalous free port, though on a very small scale, for at least one hundred years before its destruction, during which time it was also unknown to the Foundation. The circumstances of its destruction are complex, and contested; for further details, see Addendum 8273-1.

The following is an abstract of SCP-8273's history as a security asset of the SCP Foundation.

Career Record — Delfina M. Ibanez

Delfina Ibanez has worked security at Research and Containment Site-43 since 1996. By 2002 she was Chief of Security and Containment; in 2015 she became Chief of Pursuit and Suppression, Site-43's Mobile Task Forces commander. Career highlights include, but are not limited to:

annual performance of containment duties for SCP-5243: a recurrent anomalous materials disaster at Site-43 capable of retroactively restructuring the local timeline when incorrectly contained;
amelioration of the effects of SCP-001 [DECLASSIFICATION PENDING]: a pair of humanoids exercising nebulous control over the concepts of 'order' and 'chaos', respectively, and the breakdown of local reality associated with their continued existence;
proactive defence against GoI-5054: the giftschreiber, a cult of anarchic cryptomancers presently at war with the Foundation and associated with SCP-001-A, the "Uncontained";
proactive defence against GoI-6382: the schriftsteller, a cult of autocratic cryptomancers presently at war with the Foundation and associated with SCP-001-B, the "Unyielding";
harassment of GoI-003: the Chaos Insurgency, a global paraterror group;
capture and successful containment of Fowke-627 ("Polkaroo"), culminating a fifty-year cross-department operation;
participation in the global sting now known as Operation HAPPY HYDRA;
advancing Foundation efforts to halt SCP-6500: a Finis-class event representing the decline and, presumably, eventual collapse of all known anomalous phenomena;
inaugurating diplomacy with FP-09: the City of Aph, populated by a refugee race of thaumaturges originating in a now-dead universe and capable of manipulating particulate matter; the most notable member of this race is Dr. Udo Okorie, SCP-8141, presently one of Chief Ibanez's two registered spouses.

As the holotype of an entire homo sapiens sapiens subset, Chief Ibanez has been designated SCP-8273 with no qualifier, while the SCP-8273-# designation is reserved for further instances of the SCP-8273 type. As none have been located in the three decades since her discovery, Chief Ibanez is assumed to be the last of her kind.

Addendum 8273-1, Destruction of FP-15: The SCP Foundation first learned of the existence of FP-15 in the weeks immediately preceding its erasure from baseline reality. The engagements which followed have retroactively been termed Operation TAILWIND KITE, an overview of which is appended below.

Operation TAILWIND KITE

Date:
4 June — 29 June, 1994

Location:
Caleta San Roque, Chubut Province, Argentina

Nature:
Armed engagement

Result:
Indeterminate

Belligerents:

SCP Foundation

Chaos Insurgency

MTF Delta-4 ("Minutemen")
16 casualties

Casualties unknown

MTF Dseda-8 ("Desperta Ferro")
11 casualties

MTF Sigma-9 ("Valkyries")
24 casualties

MTF Xi-13 ("Sequere Nos")
19 casualties

Operational Overview:

At approximately 0800 hours on 4 June 1994, covert surveillance of three commandeered C-17 Globemaster III transport aircraft from three different Chaos Insurgency Firebases enabled the triangulation of their apparent destination in coastal Argentina: a small, undeveloped inlet with a rocky shoreline on the Argentine Sea. An escort force of three MiG-23s, one for each transport, launched at approximately 0815 hours.

First responders were Mobile Task Force Dseda-8, operating out of Site-34. Operatives set up artillery emplacements on a rocky plateau encircling the site, and began exploration of the interior. Satellite imagery described a series of ragged hills and gullies leading to the bay, which proved accurate; it also described a denuded terrain of orange stone, which did not. Once beyond the plateau, operatives discovered a heavily forested landscape climatically out of place in the surrounding environment and invisible to outside observers. They focused on clearing vegetation and setting up abseiling/jumaring points to improve mobility for themselves and subsequent responders.

MTF Sigma-9 launched at approximately 0830 hours in anticipation of aerial combat with Insurgency assets.

By 0900 hours, MTF Delta-4 were on-site and assisting Dseda-8 with securing ground access. Task Forces Command determined that approach by sea would not be attempted, owing to the apparent discontinuities in topography and the probability of entering into an ambush. At this time the first Insurgency assets had reached their intended destination; they disappeared from satellite imagery, with one of the escorts reappearing as its course took it back out of the affected zone, and it began to patrol the perimeter. This necessitated action on the part of Sigma-9, and the patrolling craft was destroyed.

According to agents on the ground, antipersonnel bombardment began almost immediately and parachutists could be seen, presumably deploying from the Globemasters. Though several targets of opportunity were identified by Dseda-8 snipers and neutralized, the majority of these aerially inserting Insurgents were able to make landfall due to high winds and poor visibility from the ground. Several landed beyond the mountainous enclosure, and began engaging Dseda-8 and Delta-4 in pitched battle.

At approximately 0930 hours, Sigma-9 had arrived in the apparent pocket dimension enclosing Caleta San Roque. Though clear skies and an empty circle of rocky cliffs were visible before entering, they were immediately confronted with a scene of absolute carnage. The landscape of the area was subtly different, having apparently been worked by human hands and traffic over a long period of time, carving out space for a village encircling the bay which was now largely on fire and/or bombed-out. Signs of long-term occupation by Insurgency forces could be seen, including trench systems, bunkers, and artillery emplacements. Combat with Insurgent aerial assets began immediately, while manned anti-aircraft turrets were airdropped to strategic locations to provide support.

At this time a squadron of seven MiG-21 aircraft deployed to the site from an unknown launching location, and began engaging Sigma-9.

The aerial component of the battle was a decisive Foundation victory within the first half hour of engagement, with six Insurgent aircraft downed at a loss of only one member of the Valkyrie unit. Two of the Insurgency's three bombers were taken out of commission, relieving the village from the worst of its bombardment. Combat on the periphery of the anomalous zone was fiercer, with more casualties, but the tide was nevertheless also turning in the Foundation's favor when the terms of engagement suddenly changed. The Valkyries had swung out of the pocket dimension in order to achieve a better vector for attack; on swinging back around, Valkyries 2 and 4 impacted an invisible obstacle in mid-air and were completely destroyed. The remaining squad members pulled up in time to avoid destruction. In the ground theatre, Insurgent reinforcements ceased arriving and those who had already emerged from the anomalous zone were swiftly dispatched by Xi-13 and Delta-4.

When it became apparent that Caleta San Roque was no longer accessible by land, sea, or air, Foundation forces retrenched and began setting up forward operating bases in order to monitor the situation. The status of the apparent shield was tested by timed bombardment over the course of the following three and a half weeks, while Foundation thaumaturges and ontokinetics attempted to dispel it without effect.

At approximately 1700 hours on 29 June, satellite surveillance detected an unprecedented mobilization of Chaos Insurgency aerial assets converging on Caleta San Roque. The shield was subsequently found to have dissipated, and all involved taskforces immediately re-entered the scene. The village was now in a state of advanced disrepair, including those Insurgency emplacements not destroyed during the initial assault. A single individual in powered infantry armour was seen engaging the Insurgents, with a high degree of success; her actions on the ground enabled Sigma-9 to achieve a concentrated rout with only light additional casualties, and by mid-afternoon all surviving Insurgents were in active retreat.

At 1832 hours, the village disappeared.

Every standing structure, including those constructed by the Insurgency, as well as the wreck of a cargo ship in the bay and the pier it had been moored at, vanished in the same instant. The only remnant of the battle was the individual in powered armour who was found washed up on the beach, unconscious. Her suit's internal systems had been damaged by submersion in salt water, and its data was found to be irrecoverable. The individual herself was remanded to Site-34 for identification and debriefing.

During the intake process, it was determined the individual was suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress. She would only provide her name — Delfina Ibanez — to the intake officers at Site-34. This information was uploaded to SCiPnet, where it triggered a priority flag for Director V.L. Scout of Site-43 in Canada. Director Scout claimed jurisdiction over the file, and arrived the following day via MTF Epsilon-43 ("Day Trippers") escort.

This marked the effective end of Operation TAILWIND KITE.

The disappearance of FP-15 was total, including even the local vegetation. A portion of soil beneath the foundations of each structure was also removed. Whatever anomalous properties occluded the bay while it was occupied have dissipated; the only remaining curiosity is that the waters of the Argentine Sea do not mix violently with those of Caleta San Roque, such that the inlet remains still at all times. Vegetation regrowth is very slow, and the region is shunned by most fauna. In practical terms, the former site of Zevala is dead.

Caleta San Roque, 2024.

The purpose of the Chaos Insurgency's occupation of Zevala remains unknown, though seemingly arbitrary and illogical actions have been the norm for said Group of Interest since a major organizational overhaul and mission alteration in the mid-1990s; this is believed to have been instigated by an internal coup of some kind. In place of the original corps of [EXPUNGED] from [EXPUNGED] a machine cult was instituted, dedicated to carrying out the prophetic instructions of a device known only as "The Engine," as interpreted by the new Delta Command and its figurehead, the Engineer. Given the lack of internal Insurgency documentation, due to institutional paranoia, no explanation which accounts for all of these changes has ever been mooted; given the events in Carnley Harbour in 2023, it is likely none ever will be.

Given the totality of its erasure, the lack of any additional context in the succeeding thirty years, and the failure of Foundation remote viewers and mediums to contact any surviving residents of Zevala (minus SCP-8273 herself), the Department of Ontokinetics has ruled that FP-15 should be considered neutralized as the result of an eigenweapon deployment of unknown origin.

Addendum 8273-2, Field Emanations: As a prelude to closing and archiving the SCP-8273 file, Chief Ibanez commissioned Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas to prepare the following report on the subject of her personal field emanations ('aura')..Dr. Astrauskas is a Class-2 ("Adept") Type Blue specializing in auramancy.

Auramantic Assessment:

Chief Delfina Ibanez

Prepared by Dr. Rozálie Astrauskas, Site-43

Conflict of Interest Statement: The subject of this assessment is one of two individuals with which I am personally romantically involved.

Attached below is a telesomnic impression of my aurascopic reading of Chief Delfina Ibanez on 6 January 2024, alongside my diagrammatic interpretation of the elements visible therein and their approximate configurations.

Telesomnic representation of subject's field emissions (left) and expert interpretation (right).

Element Key

Baseline Elements:
Vigour Band (blue)
Emotion Band (red)
Psychic Band (yellow)
Hume Spirals (green)
Intent Bloom (red-orange-yellow band orbital occlusion)

Chief Ibanez's Vigour Band is disproportionately scaled, consistent with my observations re: her energy level and stamina. Her Emotion Band is even more prominently outsized, a peculiarity which wanes only marginally during unconsciousness; see subject's psychological record with Dr. Nhung Ngo for further information. The apparent extrusion of her Emotion and Psychic Bands across the middle cranium in telesomnic imagery is actually her Intent Bloom; subject refused to close her eyes for the reading, and as a result her personal feelings re: the reading itself are on full display.

On the matter of anomalies: Chief Ibanez's Hume Spirals exhibit a mild declension, typically indicative of extradimensional origin. Furthermore, there are breaks in each spiral with no apparent cause, a phenomenon I have not witnessed in any other reading of this kind. However, data on file with the Temporal Anomalies Department — classified Level 6: Cosmic Top Secret — indicates that although Chief Ibanez exists as a result of anomalous circumstances, she is confirmed as originating from baseline reality. In light of this verdict, I am unable to speculate further.

Per the above, any expenditure of resources on the question of SCP-8273 is contraindicated. As all Site-43 personnel are presently acting under the auspices of Protocol GYRUS, this file has been deemed a matter of no concern and no further investigation will be attempted.

PROTOCOL GYRUS

CLEARANCE ACKNOWLEDGED

ACCESS AUTHORIZED

Accessing compartmentalized addenda re: additional context + further investigation, SCP-8273

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Special Containment Procedures
Description
Addendum 8273-1
Addendum 8273-2
Addendum 8273-3
Addendum 8273-4
Addendum 8273-5
Addendum 8273-6
Addendum 8273-7
Addendum 8273-8
Addendum 8273-9
Addendum 8273-10
Addendum 8273-11
Addendum 8273-12
Addendum 8273-13
Addendum 8273-14
Addendum 8273-15
Addendum 8273-16
Addendum 8273-17

Addendum 8273-3, Intake Interview: The following is an excerpt from SCP-8273's intake interview, conducted by Site-43 Director V.L. Scout between 1 and 2 July. Subject was judged to be seventeen years of age. She briefly outlined the circumstances of her arrival in Foundation custody: she had been a resident of the village of Zevala when it was attacked and occupied by the Chaos Insurgency in early January of 1994. She engaged in a campaign of guerilla warfare against the Insurgents as they conducted unspecified construction projects and imprisoned the local population, activities briefly and then permanently interrupted by the Foundation's interventions on 4 and 29 June. An excerpt from the remainder of Dr. Scout's interrogation is appended below.

<Excerpts begin.>

<SCP-8273 is seated at a steel table in a bare containment chamber. She is wearing a detainee jumpsuit. Her hair is cropped short in a manner suggesting she performed the act herself, and there are minor abrasions on her face and hands. Dr. Scout is seated across from her. A tape recorder sits on the table between them, next to his fedora.>

<SCP-8273 is facing away from Dr. Scout. She does not make eye contact as she answers his questions.>

SCP-8273 and Dr. Scout.

<Interrogation has been ongoing for approximately nine minutes as this transcript begins.>

Dr. Scout: Tell me about your village's culture.

<SCP-8273's voice is flat and without affect as she responds.>

SCP-8273: What.

Dr. Scout: Cultural practices. The things that mattered to you.

SCP-8273: Mattered.

Dr. Scout: That's right.

SCP-8273: Past tense.

<Silence on recording.>

SCP-8273: Because they're all dead.

Dr. Scout: Be that as it may, I would like to know what sort of people they once were.

SCP-8273: Living people.

Dr. Scout: Commemoration is a kind of immortality.

SCP-8273: Lousy kind.

Dr. Scout: I know you don't want to talk about them—

<SCP-8273 shifts in her seat to make eye contact with Dr. Scout.>

SCP-8273: But you're still asking. And you'll keep asking until you get something you think is useful, but I don't know what that looks like, and I don't know if I care.

<She narrows her eyes.>

SCP-8273: I think I don't care.

Dr. Scout: Just tell me the first thing you remember. Whatever comes to mind. Rituals. Festivals.

<SCP-8273 closes her eyes. Several seconds pass.>

SCP-8273: Rituals.

Dr. Scout: That's right.

SCP-8273: Visions. Perfect visions.

Dr. Scout: That sounds interesting.

SCP-8273: I never thought so.

Dr. Scout: Who had the visions?

SCP-8273: The women. It was before I was born. One of the elders told me about it. She wasn't supposed to, but she was sick. Thought I was her sister.

Dr. Scout: What sorts of things did they see?

SCP-8273: Future things. Things that had to come true. Fat lot of good that did anybody.

Dr. Scout: What else do you remember?

<SCP-8273 rolls her eyes, and grits her teeth.>

Dr. Scout: We don't have to do this all at—

SCP-8273: Festivals, you said.

Dr. Scout: Yes?

SCP-8273: Twice a year. When the clocks changed.

Dr. Scout: You had Daylight Savings Time?

<SCP-8273 shakes her head.>

SCP-8273: We had when the clocks change. All the adults would go down to the beach, and all us k—… They'd make us stay inside.

Dr. Scout: Why?

<SCP-8273 opens her eyes.>

SCP-8273: Because when they went down to the beach, the sky changed colour.

Dr. Scout: Really.

SCP-8273: Yellow. Red. Green. Never blue. And the sounds outside were different.

Dr. Scout: Different how?

<SCP-8273's voice is now entirely without affect, having the character of recitation.>.Site-34 medical staff concluded subject's depersonalization in these interviews represented an attempt to circumvent her own post-traumatic stress.

SCP-8273: Hoots and growls. Bugs that didn't sound right. Wind that seemed to be saying something. Fistfuls of ice falling from the sky. I can still hear them hammering on the roof.

<SCP-8273 briefly appears to smile. The expression fades almost instantly.>

SCP-8273: Like shrapnel.

Dr. Scout: What do you think they were doing? The adults?

SCP-8273: I don't know. I… did go outside. Once.

Dr. Scout: Yes?

<SCP-8273 looks up at the ceiling, directly into the camera. Her pupils are dilated.>

SCP-8273: They always left someone to watch us, keep us from going outside. One time they left old man Lobo. He was a drunk, but they thought he was getting better. They were wrong.

Dr. Scout: So you slipped out.

SCP-8273: Yeah.

Dr. Scout: And what did you see?

SCP-8273: Nothing.

Dr. Scout: Nothing had changed?

SCP-8273: I saw nothing. Big black nothing. And then it turned into something else…

Dr. Scout: What?

<SCP-8273 looks back at Dr. Scout.>

SCP-8273: I can't remember.

Dr. Scout: Hmm.

SCP-8273: You don't believe me.

Dr. Scout: Of course I believe you. I'm just never a fan of missing time, missing space, or missing memories.

SCP-8273: I don't like missing things either. So how about you and I put this behind us?

Dr. Scout: I'm going to need to keep asking you questions, Delfina. I'm sorry about that.

<SCP-8273's lip curls.>

SCP-8273: Ask me something I won't care about.

Dr. Scout: That's only fair. Do you care about the suit?

SCP-8273: I want it back. Feels like I earned it.

Dr. Scout: I won't disagree, but I can't make any promises.

SCP-8273: Meaning you've already taken it to bits.

Dr. Scout: Not personally, but most probably. Where did you get it?

SCP-8273: Inside the big building, I guess.

Dr. Scout: You guess?

SCP-8273: I don't…

<SCP-8273 scowls.>

SCP-8273: I don't remember. I have a really fuzzy idea of what I did in there, full of holes. I know I did a lot of training, and then I found the suit. I don't remember putting it on. But I remember standing outside the front door, and the targeting system coming on. And I remember everything after that.

<She suddenly stands up.>

SCP-8273: You took my memories.

Dr. Scout: We did nothing of the sort.

SCP-8273: Then why can't I remember?

Dr. Scout: The trauma, perhaps.

<SCP-8273 snorts.>

SCP-8273: You don't know anything about trauma.

<Dr. Scout gestures at the empty chair.>

Dr. Scout: So please, help me to understand.

<SCP-8273 sits down, hard, and crosses her arms in front of her stomach.>

Dr. Scout: You made quite a mess of the Insurgency.

SCP-8273: They started it.

Dr. Scout: You fought like a trained soldier.

SCP-8273: I finished it.

Dr. Scout: You've explained your guerilla campaign against them. But if you'll forgive me, I'm not sure those skills transfer easily to the operation of para-military hardware.

SCP-8273: Couldn't tell you. It's all gone.

<SCP-8273 looks to one side.>

SCP-8273: Like everything else.

Dr. Scout: Not everything.

<SCP-8273 makes eye contact again. Her eyes are wide.>

SCP-8273: Are they still out there?

Dr. Scout: Your people? We don't—

<Her voice is stronger now.>

SCP-8273: No. The Insurgency.

Dr. Scout: Yes. The Insurgency is very much still out there.

SCP-8273: Scales need balancing.

Dr. Scout: Revenge is a hollow pursuit.

SCP-8273: Perfect fit.

<Dr. Scout picks up his hat, and runs a finger along the band.>

Dr. Scout: How did your people stay concealed for so long?

<SCP-8273 shrugs.>

SCP-8273: I didn't know we were. So I never thought about it.

Dr. Scout: Think about it now, please.

<SCP-8273 slams a fist on the table. Dr. Scout raises his hand again; the door does not open.>

SCP-8273: Stop saying please. You don't mean it.

Dr. Scout: I do mean it. But I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable.

SCP-8273: Pretending I have a say in any of this is what makes me uncomfortable.

Dr. Scout: Miss Ibanez, I am here to learn whatever you can tell me. But I am not here to rip that knowledge from you.

SCP-8273: But you will, right, if I don't cave.

Dr. Scout: What's the point in theorizing about events that will never come to pass?

<SCP-8273 sighs in frustration.>

SCP-8273: You sound like my grandmother.

Dr. Scout: Well. My name is Vivian.

<SCP-8273's mouth twitches.>

Dr. Scout: Have you been thinking about it? While we stall?

SCP-8273: Yeah.

Dr. Scout: And?

SCP-8273: Nobody ever left the village. Ever.

Dr. Scout: I see. Did anyone ever want to?

SCP-8273: I wanted to.

Dr. Scout: Why didn't you?

SCP-8273: I…

<SCP-8273 moves her mouth wordlessly for several seconds. Her eyes narrow.>

<Dr. Scout deactivates the tape recorder and orders the camera feed terminated.>

<Intake interview begins again the following day. Both the subject and Dr. Scout have resumed their prior positions.>

Dr. Scout: How did you sleep?

SCP-8273: Your drugs.

<SCP-8273 makes a rolling gesture with her hands.>

Dr. Scout: Very well. We'll pick up where we left off. Why didn't you attempt to leave Zevala?

Reconstruction of Zevala utilizing testimony from SCP-8273 and MTF Sigma-9. Points of interest, west to east: subject's home, lighthouse, town hall, pier, main silo, facility.

<SCP-8273 takes a deep breath.>

SCP-8273: I did try. When I was bored, or… I tried. A few times. The cliffs around the village are high, but there's clefts and gullies and whatever. Ways up. But the forest gets thicker, and the air gets thicker, and after a while no matter how much I wanted to see what was past the next clearing, I'd get so confused and lost and… homesick, I guess, that I'd end up stumbling back home again eventually. I asked my m—

<SCP-8273 clears her throat.>

SCP-8273: I was told it was vertigo.

Dr. Scout: I see.

SCP-8273: It wasn't, was it.

Dr. Scout: Not very likely. The cliffs were tall, but not nearly so tall as that. Did all your supplies come in by ship?

<SCP-8273 nods.>

SCP-8273: The same ship. The Northern Reach. They told me they were smugglers.

Dr. Scout: They told you the truth.

SCP-8273: They didn't tell me what the truth means.

Dr. Scout: Ah. A smuggler is someone who smuggles.

SCP-8273: Wow.

Dr. Scout: To smuggle, the act of smuggling—

SCP-8273: Stupid words.

Dr. Scout: They don't bear much repeating, do they? But the basic meaning is the transportation of contraband. Forbidden items.

SCP-8273: What was forbidden?

Dr. Scout: Everything they carried. Contraband is subjective. Sometimes it's illegal things taken through legal channels. Sometimes it's legal things taken through illegal channels. The Northern Reach was performing the latter act.

SCP-8273: Who made it illegal?

Dr. Scout: We did.

SCP-8273: And who are you?

Dr. Scout: As I told you before, the SCP Foundation.

<SCP-8273 narrows her eyes.>

Dr. Scout: Does that mean something to you?

SCP-8273: Of course not. Does it mean something to you?

<Dr. Scout smiles.>

SCP-8273: Does your secret conspiracy thing have a symbol?

<Dr. Scout reaches into the breast pocket of his waistcoat, and produces his identification badge. He slides it across the table to SCP-8273, who examines it without picking it up.>

SCP-8273: Yeah. Thought so.

Dr. Scout: So you have encountered us before.

SCP-8273: Yeah. When you and the other guys blew up everything. The first time.

Dr. Scout: Meaning the fourth of June?

SCP-8273: I don't know what day it is today.

Dr. Scout: July the second.

SCP-8273: Not like it matters. But yeah. I saw one of your people, on the ground.

Dr. Scout: What did they say?

SCP-8273: They didn't say anything. They fell out of an airplane, and one of the other guys shot them.

<Dr. Scout nods.>

SCP-8273: Want to hear what I did next?

Dr. Scout: I want to hear whatever you want to tell me, Delfina.

<SCP-8273 grunts.>

SCP-8273: No. You keep the ball rolling. Come on.

Dr. Scout: These next questions are going to be hard.

SCP-8273: I don't care.

Dr. Scout: How many of the villagers can you account for? Their fates?

<SCP-8273 examines the table.>

SCP-8273: I don't know. A lot.

<She shrugs, then shrugs again.>

SCP-8273: I saw…

<She clears her throat.>

SCP-8273: I saw a grain silo. Full. Of bodies.

Dr. Scout: Enough bodies?

SCP-8273: No.

<SCP-8273 looks up at the ceiling.>

SCP-8273: But we had more than one silo.

Dr. Scout: Were there any villagers still alive when you went into the facility?

<SCP-8273's voice is strained.>

SCP-8273: Yes. I think so.

Dr. Scout: Can you estimate how many?

SCP-8273: No. They were in… I don't know the word.

Dr. Scout: Camps? Prisons?

<SCP-8273 shrugs, and nods.>

SCP-8273: Sure. I couldn't get close. Too many guards.

<SCP-8273 bites her lip.>

Dr. Scout: So there were probably still villagers alive when you came back out.

SCP-8273: Maybe. Probably.

Dr. Scout: What do you think happened to them? The survivors?

SCP-8273: There weren't any.

Dr. Scout: How do you know?

<SCP-8273 suddenly raises her voice.>

SCP-8273: Because none of them would have left me.

Dr. Scout: Maybe they didn't know you were still out there.

SCP-8273: If they didn't know, they wouldn't have left.

Dr. Scout: You sound certain.

<SCP-8273 holds Dr. Scout's gaze.>

SCP-8273: I am.

<Excerpts end.>

Dr. Scout appended the following commentary to the complete intake interview:

With regard to Delfina Ibanez, I am taken both by awe and by despair. Awe, because never in my life have I seen a young person so perfectly fitted to the task of targeted violence. Despair for the same reason.

The doctors tell me her physical condition defeats their best efforts at explanation. We have only just scratched the surface of military eugenics — and were it up to me, that abrasion would suffice — but what we know about building a perfect soldier seems eerily similar to what must have happened to her. It is possible to promote muscle growth, bone density, and other physical characteristics suiting a person to the military lifestyle. It is most efficient to begin this process early in life, although we have rarely had occasion to apply that knowledge in praxis. The Ethics Committee is good enough for that, at least. But unless I miss my guess, Miss Ibanez has been through a rigorous regimen of training and dietary restriction designed to forge her into, if not a weapon, then a machine for wielding them.

Trained and restricted by whom? If the answer is not merely 'herself'.

At any rate, her normal life has ended. Many of my colleagues and superiors are going to be very cross at me for what I do next. I am acting well outside the bounds of my purview. I have little authority here. But when I return to Site-43, I intend to bring this young woman with me. I have reason to believe we will have need of her skills. And it might do her some good to put them to less tragic use.

Delfina believes Zevala's disappearance to have been its total destruction. She tells me the Insurgency was building something, some vast device requiring copious quantities of materiel and manpower. Perhaps it went wrong. Perhaps it went right, some desperate contingency of the occupiers in the event their rule was successfully challenged. I believe she is correct to some extent, because if not in any great detail, but in general, it answers the most obvious question I have about this terrible calamity:

What did the Insurgency want with Zevala in the first place?

Addendum 8273-4, RxX Incident: Subsequent to her intake interview, SCP-8273 requested access to a workout space and resources. On Dr. Scout's recommendation, accommodations were made. As the subject began demonstrating her advanced combat training and athletic abilities, the Archives and Revision Section of Site-43 was tasked with assembling as thorough a timeline as possible for the vanished village of Zevala.

References were identified in the private journals of Dom Magnusson, registered owner and captain of the trading vessel Northern Reach, located in his abandoned place of residence. These references revealed, as Dr. Scout had surmised, that the vessel facilitated an infrequent and illicit trade between Zevala and the Nexus of Puerto Extraño (Nx-572) in Antarctica — most notably involving a blue flower known colloquially as "Stranger-in-the-Mist." This data point did not become relevant until 1996, when a whistleblower email from the RxX pharmaceutical company triggered an A&R webcrawler's search parameters.

On 1 April 1996, the Department of Containment received the following whistleblower account from an RxX researcher. The message was sent from the whistleblower's work email to himself with a blind cc to embedded Foundation agent Dr. Owain Cousins, apparently to give the impression he was under the mistaken belief this would anonymize him. The text of the email was addressed to RxX CEO Dr. Orville Cowell, presumably to create the impression that Dr. Cousins had been emailed in error, for plausible deniability..The whistleblower himself, on being presented with this explanation, agreed vociferously that it was correct.

To: Me
From: Me
BCC: ten.XxR|snisuoC_O#ten.XxR|snisuoC_O

Subject: VAGAMENS

To Dr. Cowell and Who May It Concern,

I'm not comfortable sharing my name or title. I know people tend to get in trouble for doing stuff like this. But I have serious questions and anxieties about my job that only you can address. I think there's something funky going on with the medication we're studying down in Recent Acquisitions, Stranger-in-the-Mist; its pathophysiological effects don't make any rational sense, so unless we've discovered a new branch of science and we're using it to make dick pills or whatever the hell this stuff is, or all our equipment is set up to return bonkers results, everything I know about science is wrong. I'm used to being wrong about stuff, but not science. Please look into this matter as soon as you can.

— A Concerned Employee
— Dr. William W. Wettle, Junior Associate in Recent Acquisitions, Employee #8375
Ask me about the employee betting pool!

MTF Tau-51 ("Urban Brawl") subsequently secured the RxX headquarters (and took Dr. Wettle into custody) that same day. Employees were in the midst of a comprehensive effort to shred and burn all documentation, and magnetize all company computer hard disks. This effort was halted with no loss of life, and Archives and Revision began examining the company's records while the Procurement and Liquidation Department arranged for the public sale of RxX to a Foundation dummy corporation.

The A&R investigation revealed that RxX was conducting experiments on Stranger-in-the-Mist, botanical name Nigella cerritulus, at the behest of a private investment firm with connections to known Chaos Insurgency agents.

N. cerritulus, RxX stock photograph.

Their findings described the plant as possessing strong hallucinogenic properties, with some utility for reducing the psychosis endemic to persons possessing prophetic sight ("seers" or "prophets") as well as potential ontokinetic applications, though only trace references exist to the latter in recoverable data.

A global effort to secure samples of N. cerritulus was unsuccessful. A plantation was discovered in Puerto Extraño, but only after it had already been razed by suspected Insurgency agents immediately subsequent to the RxX takeover. Attempts to regrow the crop began immediately, though local informants indicated the plant has a growth cycle approaching twenty years due to the frigid environments in which it thrives.

Addendum 8273-5, Training Report: The following is an excerpt from Dr. Scout's personal musings on the progress of SCP-8273's training as an SCP Foundation security agent..This material was recovered from the Director's Complex at Site-43 pending the confirmation of Dr. Scout's successor, Dr. Allan McInnis. A protest against this action by then-Director Elect McInnis is on file with RAISA.

She makes me profoundly uncomfortable.

It's not her fault; it's ours. That's what makes the discomfort so keen. We put her in this situation. We are the architects, if not always directly, of the scenario of her life. The Insurgency, the Veil, and matters I dare not speculate on even in these most private of papers, these things are sprung from our own spring. We have turned a child into a murderer.

She is very efficient at murder. She has demonstrated combat abilities far beyond what should be possible for someone of her age and stature. She runs at five metres per second, well above the norm for human athletes half again her height. She can bench press twice her weight. She can hold her breath for nearly five minutes. I have seen her invert her body in midair. I have seen her punch force metrics, and they are sufficient to break concrete. And I have seen, after months of careful testing, the full medical breakdown of why her body allows these things to be true.

Delfina Ibanez is a self-made woman.

Practically every muscle in her body exhibits evidence of repeated injury and re-healing. As do her tendons. As do her ligaments. Her bone marrow shows telltale signs of transplant. The implication is clear: she has been the subject of exceptionally rigorous physical training, gradually building her frail form into something with the average plasticity of human steel. She is in effectively peak condition, and with our assistance, she has maintained this.

Therein, the rub.

I am forced to conclude that our assistance, or assistance from some party very much like us, is responsible for this accomplishment. In brief: Delfina Ibanez had access to a training and treatment regimen indistinguishable from what the Foundation employs for its top level operatives. In unarmed, unarmoured combat, I would not bet against her in a sparring match with a member of the Red Right Hand.

It is somewhat difficult to reconcile this with the fact that before she engaged with the Insurgents on June 29, she was a seventeen year old whose only combat experience was self-taught small-scale guerilla warfare in her local environment. It should go without saying that the changes she has wrought in herself should not have been possible on such an absurdly abbreviated timeframe, outside assistance or not.

I regret that she is unable to reconcile this dilemma for us. I now firmly believe that the circumstances of her transformation are not wholly known even to her. Given the disappearance of Zevala and its putative research facility, they might never become known.

What is certain is this:

Even with the finest equipment and resources possible, and an allowance of time to make use of same, the process of reaching this level of physical fitness and combat skill would repeatedly break the mind and spirit of even the most determined trainee.

I would not like to set myself against a will that could accomplish such a feat, alone.

I would, in other words, very much not wish to be in the Insurgency's jackboots when Delfina Ibanez is finally ready for active duty.

That I was pointed in her direction may be the deciding factor in days far to come.

The meaning of the final words in this statement is, at present, unknown.

Addendum 8273-6, Carnley Harbour Incident and Aftermath: The LK-Class "Twist of Fate" Probability Failure Scenario previously designated SCP-7000 supplied a lengthy series of setbacks to the Chaos Insurgency, resulting in the functional end of its Group of Interest status. The climax of this reduction in force was the complete destruction, by nuclear warhead, of the Hardened Mobile Array: the Insurgency's stealth-enabled modular aircraft assembly, believed to house Delta Command, the Engineer, and the Engine. The Array's remains fell into Carnley Harbour in the Auckland Islands, New Zealand; crash scene investigation revealed machinery with a significant Hume offset, consistent with espionage accounts of the Engine. Also recovered was a small quantity of badly burned plant material consistent with RxX reports on the composition of N. cerritulus, and a memorandum fragment with references to "leyline proximity," "subzero temperatures," and "unrivalled access."

No further developments on the subject of SCP-8273 occurred until October of 2023, when the emergence of the City of Aph presented a possible new vector of investigation. SCP-8273 was by then Chief of Pursuit and Suppression at Site-43 and one of several Foundation officers responsible for executing Protocol GYRUS, with broad discretionary powers. After an interview with Aphora, the Vitreous Queen of Aph, Chief Ibanez requested resources from the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority for a renewed investigation into the fate of the village of Zevala. Authorization was granted, and Chief Ibanez mustered a combined Mobile Task Forces division under the auspices of Operation CICLO.

Addendum 8273-7, Operation CICLO: The following is a transcript of Operation CICLO's 18 January 2024 visit to Caleta San Roque, Argentina, identified as Cala del Ciclo in native Zevalan terms by Chief Ibanez.

<Transcript begins.>

<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie exit the helicopter behind Chief Ibanez, who has already advanced several metres from the landing site.>

Dr. Okorie: Where are we?

Chief Ibanez: Nowhere.

Dr. Astrauskas: Where would we be?

<Chief Ibanez balls her fists, and turns back to the helicopter.>

Chief Ibanez: Parra farm.

<She gestures to the southwest, where the table ends at a meeting of both cliffs and the sea.>

Chief Ibanez: School was over that way.

<She gestures over her shoulder, to the north, as she re-enters the helicopter.>

Chief Ibanez: Everything else in the other direction.

SCP-6500-SWORD and PTF Delta-6500 Overview

SCP-6500-SWORD, charged state.

The 2021 calendar year of the normalcy community was dominated by SCP-6500, the near-destruction of all paranature across all linked timelines. A variety of terms have been applied to this event, but the most commonly accepted in the years to follow has been 'the Impasse'. The Impasse was successfully arrested by the SCP Foundation through acquisition and employment of a series of artifacts, SCP-6500-α, identified by an apostate Overseer known as O5-0; the anomalous characteristics of these artifacts, which they retained despite the general die-off, combined to reverse the effects of the Impasse and restore balance to baseline reality. Site-43 Pursuit and Suppression Chief Delfina M. Ibanez was responsible for the discovery and use of one such artifact, SCP-6500-SWORD.

SCP-6500-SWORD is an ornate shortsword with a semicircular crossguard, one hundred centimetres in length and weighing one kilogram. Given the projected age of this artifact, its measurements would not be expected to match the modern metric standard to this level of precision; it is furthermore exceedingly light for its size and apparent materials composition. The hilt of the sword is composed primarily of gold and beryllium bronze, according to spectrographic analysis. The blade appears to be composed of silver. As all elements of SCP-6500-SWORD have proven impervious to all forms of damage, counter to the expected ductility of its materials, no more detailed schema can be obtained at this time. The complexity of the hilt and its awkward length in comparison with that of the blade would appear to preclude its use in actual combat situations, but in practice this has not been an issue. Individuals with any form of edged weapon training are capable of wielding SCP-6500-SWORD as though it were a well-balanced and appropriately designed — if unremarkable — example of its class. Its most anomalous qualities, however, proceed not from the artifact itself, but from its user.

Through a process still under study by the Department of Containment, its wielder imbues SCP-6500-SWORD with an unidentifiable but visible form of energy which serves as a catalyst for anomalous occurrences in a radius commensurate to the scale of said wielder's actions. In simpler terms, the anomalous is strengthened in proximity to a "powered-up" SCP-6500-SWORD. When empowered in this manner, the blade glows a bright white and has been shown capable of cleaving diamond with ease. Over the course of its initial employment, a faint inscription on the crossguard, "I WILL NOT FADE," became legible as it emitted a fiery red glow. As perhaps might be expected, this glow has not subsequently dimmed. In cases of extreme user activity, SCP-6500-SWORD has been known to generate shockwaves, flame, and bursts of blinding light in contextually-appropriate quantities.

An alternate explanation for the effects of SCP-6500-SWORD, advanced by Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate of Site-87 after a brief but eventful period of field research, is that it taps into pataphysical potentiality to energize moribund narratives. Given that the implications of this theory are functionally identical to those of the more prosaic explanation outlined above, no further pataphysical research has been attempted as of yet; however, given that pataphysical phenomena did not significantly wane during the course of the Impasse, the effects of which were felt most strongly by 'traditional' occult and anomalous entities, locations, objects and events, this alternate source of power may explain why SCP-6500-SWORD remained functional long enough to partially reverse said Impasse.

When first discovered in the Library of Kayaköy by Site-43 Chief of Pursuit and Suppression Delfina Ibanez, SCP-6500-SWORD's physical appearance was considerably more plain and practical, and its inscription could not be parsed. It evolved to its present form over the course of the Impasse, as Chief Ibanez wielded it in a variety of theatres across the globe in order to restore balance to the Earth's anomalous ecosystems.

The colloquial name of SCP-6500-SWORD, according to O5-0, is "The Leading Edge." As this artifact was proactively employed by the Foundation to reverse the effects of the Impasse, the name, as with its inscription, would appear apropos. For the majority of the crisis, Chief Ibanez wielded SCP-6500-SWORD as commander of Provisional Task Force Delta-6500 ("Magical Mystery Tour"), a group of occult specialists, agents trained in blade combat, and support personnel. Several individuals wielded the blade whilst Chief Ibanez was otherwise occupied, most notably during her brief AWOL excursion to the City of Alagadda to rescue Dr. Udo Okorie from the Hanged King; though each was able to employ the artifact to great effect, Chief Ibanez remains by far the most accomplished wielder of SCP-6500-SWORD.

Following the conclusion of the crisis, PTF Delta-6500 was disbanded and SCP-6500-SWORD remanded to Department of Containment custody, with the expectation that it would eventually be employed in reversing a resurgent Impasse. To date, this has not proven necessary.

Dr. Okorie: Been a long time since I saw that.

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Try not to die this time, okay?

Dr. Okorie: Didn't really die last time. I just went to the afterlife.

<Dr. Astrauskas scans the empty plateau, one hand at her temple to shield her eyes from the glare of sunlight against the bare cliffs.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Could be we're going there again.

<Dr. Okorie releases the draw strings on her reagents pouch as Chief Ibanez adjusts SCP-6500-SWORD on her back.>

Dr. Okorie: I'm sure we would have heard if an entire village went to Corbenic. They've got a pretty strict immigration policy. Only one accepted route in.

Dr. Astrauskas: And none out.

<Chief Ibanez begins walking down the remnant path. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie follow, side by side.>

Dr. Astrauskas: So, what sort of heroic deeds do you have in mind?

Dr. Okorie: She fought a whole army of spiders last time.

<Chief Ibanez does not respond.>

Dr. Okorie: Not the only time she's done that, either.

<Chief Ibanez grunts.>

Dr. Astrauskas: A glowing golden sword seems better suited to dragon-slaying.

Dr. Okorie: That's what Del said, but no dice. Right, Del?

<Chief Ibanez grunts again.>

<The sound of water moving through the bay and against the rocks fills the air. There are no birds, unusual for any stretch of coast at this latitude.>

Dr. Astrauskas: This place is too peaceful to be harbouring any monsters.

Chief Ibanez: Now.

<They proceed in silence for several minutes. Dr. Okorie occasionally glances over her shoulder, to where the remaining members of the de facto PTF Delta-6500 are setting up a base camp near the helicopter.>

<Dr. Astrauskas reaches out and tugs the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD upward. The blade is still glowing faintly. She releases her grip, and it slides back into its sheathe with a faint clinking sound.>

Dr. Astrauskas: How are you going to charge it?

Chief Ibanez: Had an idea. Talked it over with McDoctorate..Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate, SCP-INTEGER-DIGIT instance, Clearance Level-4 Foundation researcher with abstracted personal identifiers.

Dr. Astrauskas: And?

Chief Ibanez: Don't want to talk about it twice.

<Chief Ibanez quickens her pace. When the other two follow suit, she quickens her pace further. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie hold back, respectfully, and allow her to lead.>

<The path splits, curving around a large depression in the earth.>

Dr. Astrauskas: What was here?

Chief Ibanez: Cattle pens.

Dr. Okorie: What happened to the cattle?

Chief Ibanez: Got replaced.

Dr. Astrauskas: By what?

Chief Ibanez: Different kind of cattle.

<The trio are completely silent for the next ten minutes, as the path gradually rises and they pass a second winding canyon cleft.>

<Chief Ibanez sighs in frustration, and looks up at the sky.>

Chief Ibanez: You're distracting me.

Dr. Okorie: We aren't saying anything.

Chief Ibanez: That's what's distracting me. You two never stop nattering. Especially Roz.

Dr. Astrauskas: We don't know what to say.

Dr. Okorie: I was just letting you take it all in. At your own pace.

Chief Ibanez: Take what in? There's nothing left.

Dr. Okorie: It's still the landscape where you grew up.

Chief Ibanez: It's the landscape where…

<Chief Ibanez stops, and takes a deep breath.>

Chief Ibanez: It's an empty fucking bay. That's all it is.

<She steps into a very large octagonal depression in the earth, at the edge of the cliffs, and kicks idly at the dirt.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Can you pick up anything under the ground, Udo?

<Dr. Okorie frowns.>

Dr. Okorie: Is it alright for me to—

<Chief Ibanez raises a hand in warning.>

Chief Ibanez: Don't make me repeat myself.

Dr. Okorie: Okay. I'll take a look.

<Dr. Okorie removes a handful of vim harenae from her reagents pouch, and sprinkles it onto the path. She raises her right hand, and flexes her fingers. The red grains burrow into the earth, and she closes her eyes.>.Dr. Okorie is SCP-8141, a Class-4 ("Archmagus") thaumaturge with the primary Talent of remote particle manipulation, aka 'micamancy'.

<Dr. Astrauskas pulls a radio off her belt, and presses the SEND button.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Delta-6500, be advised: Code 8141.

Agent Koslova: Acknowledged.

Dr. Astrauskas: Jesus.

Chief Ibanez: You saw her pull an entire city out of the ground.

Dr. Astrauskas: It's just not the kind of thing that's ever going to get old.

<Dr. Okorie opens her eyes.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Anything?

Dr. Okorie: Some trace elements. Remnants of burning. Chemical runoff.

<She sniffs the air, and frowns.>

Dr. Okorie: Something in the air, too, something particulate I can't put my finger on.

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm getting a weird vibe, too.

<Dr. Okorie kneels down, and touches the soil very gently.>

Dr. Okorie: That isn't all. There's… ah…

Chief Ibanez: You're going to say bodies. Just say bodies.

Dr. Okorie: There's no bodies. The Foundation would have picked them up. But some of this sand…

Chief Ibanez: Yeah?

Dr. Okorie: It's not from here.

<Chief Ibanez shakes her head in frustration.>

Chief Ibanez: Okay?

Dr. Okorie: It's from Aph.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: …okay. Well, that's something. She was telling the truth.

<Dr. Okorie stands.>

Dr. Okorie: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: Never mind right now.

<Dr. Astrauskas squints at Chief Ibanez, then frowns.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Dr. Astrauskas: Nothing.

Chief Ibanez: Nothing nothing. What are you pulling that face at?

Dr. Astrauskas: Your vital band, is all..Dr. Astrauskas is SCP-6721, a Class-2 ("Adept") thaumaturge with the primary Talent of field emission detection and interpretation, aka 'auramancy'.

Chief Ibanez: What about my vital band?

Dr. Astrauskas: It's fluctuating. Out past the usual bounds.

Dr. Okorie: Is that normal?

<Chief Ibanez's voice takes on a menacing growl.>

Chief Ibanez: They wouldn't be past the usual fucking bounds if it was normal, would they? What does it mean?

Dr. Astrauskas: I dunno. I'll monitor it.

Chief Ibanez: Great. You do that.

<She turns, and resumes her march along the path. The other two follow at a respectful distance.>

Dr. Okorie: It's so calm. So pretty.

Dr. Astrauskas: Idyllic.

Dr. Okorie: Maybe too much sunlight, though.

Dr. Astrauskas: Exposed.

Dr. Okorie: I can't believe nobody's tried to settle here in the interim.

Dr. Astrauskas: Presumably we don't let them. Anomalous location.

Dr. Okorie: Still. Seems like a great place for a Free Port.

Dr. Astrauskas: In a sense, that's what it was. Just unrecognized.

<Chief Ibanez turns to face them again.>

Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie.

Chief Ibanez: Guys? What I said earlier?

Dr. Okorie: Forget it?

Chief Ibanez: Forget it.

Dr. Okorie: Where was your house?

Chief Ibanez: In the past.

<She walks along the isthmus, and pauses. She takes a deep breath, then kneels down and begins brushing the ground cover away. She taps the soil with her fingertips, nods, and stands up again.>

Chief Ibanez: One of my brothers died here. This shell hole. The shell that made it went straight through him.

<Her companions stare at her as she walks to the cliffside, where the recurve forms a tiny sheltered cove, and points at the water.>

Chief Ibanez: Found my sister floating there a few months later, big bloody hole in the back of her head.

Dr. Astrauskas: Probably feels like it was just yesterday.

Chief Ibanez: It was almost thirty years ago. It feels like it was almost thirty years ago.

<She wheels on Dr. Astrauskas, and points an accusing finger.>

Chief Ibanez: If my aura is arguing with me, I don't want to hear about it.

<Dr. Okorie points.>

Dr. Okorie: The sword's burning brighter.

Chief Ibanez: Yep.

<Chief Ibanez walks to the end of the isthmus, and looks out over the bay.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Does that mean it's, I don't know, detecting danger or something?

<Chief Ibanez snorts.>

Chief Ibanez: What, like in Zork? It's too bright out here for grues.

Dr. Astrauskas: What's Zork? I was thinking The Lord of the Rings.

Chief Ibanez: Never mind. No, it doesn't work that way. It doesn't pick up threats. It picks up energy.

Dr. Okorie: I kind of hope it doesn't turn out to be useful.

<Chief Ibanez turns to face her, frowning.>

Chief Ibanez: Why?

Dr. Okorie: You don't feel weird about the sword? Knowing what we know now?

Dr. Astrauskas: You mean the whole… Band-Aid thing.

Dr. Okorie: Yeah. We only picked up the artifacts because somebody wanted to maintain the status quo. These are miracle treatments.

Chief Ibanez: This place is beyond miracles.

<She turns back to the bay again, and points.>

Chief Ibanez: That's where the pier was. Crocker stood on the end..Elizabeth Crocker, PoI-001, cryptomancer and Chaos Insurgency collaborator. And watched.

<She shifts her pointing angle slightly to the west.>

Chief Ibanez: There was a ship in port. The Northern Reach. It sank in the first big fight, and disappeared along with everything else after the last one.

Dr. Astrauskas: That's strange. Why would the ship disappear?

Chief Ibanez: Why would anything disappear?

<Chief Ibanez slides down the cliffside slightly, and gestures with her chin.>

Chief Ibanez: My sister and I treaded water just over there. Watched her watch us burn.

<She sighs.>

Chief Ibanez: Always thought someday I'd be able to return the favour.

Dr. Okorie: Well, Crocker's still alive. Still at large.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, but she hasn't got anything worth burning. Takes the fun right out of it.

<She climbs back up, and begins walking again. Rather than taking the path further along the bay to the right, she turns left again and backtracks to the elbow of the table's arc.>

<She stops in front of a large, angular depression in the earth in front of the most prominent cleft in the surrounding cliffs.>

Dr. Okorie: What was here?

<Chief Ibanez attempts to respond, frowns, and clears her throat before attempting again.>

Chief Ibanez: My house. Our house.

<She walks to the edge of the depression, but this time does not step down into it. Her toe nudges the foliage, once, and then she steps back.>

Chief Ibanez: All the walls were at funny angles. Metal sheets riveted together. It was fine inside, but from outside it looked like a hovel. All the houses did.

Dr. Astrauskas: Who built them?

<Chief Ibanez shrugs, and walks around the edge of the foundation's outline.>

Chief Ibanez: My grandfather's generation, I always figured. Based on the design of the metal. I did some reading…

<She grimaces, then reaches up to clutch her temple.>

Dr. Okorie: What's wrong?

Chief Ibanez: I gave myself a crash course on engineering in the facility that isn't over there anymore.

<She waves irritably in the direction of the distant beach.>

Chief Ibanez: Everything associated with it is associated with at least one memory the Foundation yanked out of my head when they picked me up. Anyway, that's how I know. How old the shacks were.

Dr. Astrauskas: Was there anything older?

Chief Ibanez: What, you mean like, wood? Thatched cottages? Stone ruins? Nothing like that.

Dr. Okorie: A village without a past.

Chief Ibanez: Or future.

<Chief Ibanez looks over her shoulder, and pulls SCP-6500-SWORD out of its sheathe by a few inches. She squints, huffs, and releases it again.>

Dr. Okorie: What?

Chief Ibanez: There's one more place we should check out, before we go on.

Dr. Astrauskas: Where are we going? I thought the whole village was on the coast.

Chief Ibanez: Most of it was. My grandfather lived further inland.

Dr. Astrauskas: How come?

Chief Ibanez: He didn't like people. I take after him.

Dr. Astrauskas: What do you think you'll find there?

<Chief Ibanez shrugs, a sour look on her face.>

Chief Ibanez: Bad memories and scorched grass. Probably not very much of either, all these years later.

Dr. Okorie: Del, what the hell is going on with the sword?

<SCP-6500-SWORD is now glowing serenely; the sheathe itself no longer fully blocks the transmission of its light.>

Chief Ibanez: Oh, figure it out already.

<She heads farther up the pass, which finally reaches the end of the natural cleft. It begins to switchback and wind as it traverses the cliffside, going up.>

Dr. Astrauskas: How deep does this go?

Chief Ibanez: I never found out.

Dr. Okorie: We could get flashlights. Hell, I could make flashlights.

<She looks down at the rock floor, at a small black smudge.>

Dr. Okorie: Is this where…?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah. This is where I hid out. We hid out. Yésica and me.

<Chief Ibanez blows out a breath.>

Chief Ibanez: Then just me.

<She walks to the mouth again, and points to a rocky outcropping out of sight from the cave proper.>

Chief Ibanez: I did my first dissection just over there.

Dr. Astrauskas: Dissection?

Chief Ibanez: One thing dead people are really good at is teaching you how to make more dead people.

<She turns back to the cave, and the ash still visible on the floor.>

Chief Ibanez: Can't believe this is still here. Foundation must have crawled over every inch of this place. Didn't disturb the fire.

<She closes her eyes, stretches her muscles, and then in one fluid motion reaches over her shoulder with one hand to remove SCP-6500-SWORD from its sheathe.>

Dr. Astrauskas: So much for the flashlights.

<The entire cave is immediately illuminated. SCP-6500-SWORD is glowing fiercely.>

Dr. Okorie: Did you know this was going to happen, Del?

Chief Ibanez: No. And I'm kind of pissed off that it worked, honestly.

<They blink in the brilliant light.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I guess there's more than one way to be a hero.

<Chief Ibanez walks to the cave mouth again.>

Chief Ibanez: This wasn't heroism. This was the easy part.

Dr. Astrauskas: What's the hard part?

<Chief Ibanez responds over her shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: Couple options. Depends what we see when I walk into the gulch with this thing in my hand.

<After a moment, the other two follow her.>

Dr. Okorie: Did you want to talk about any of the rest of this?

Chief Ibanez: Nope.

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm sure there's a lot of memories connected to—

Chief Ibanez: Sword's charged. Don't care.

Dr. Astrauskas: This is probably your last chance to come to peace with what happened here.

Chief Ibanez: I don't come to peace.

<Chief Ibanez brandishes SCP-6500-SWORD at her.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Boy, is that thing getting bright.

Chief Ibanez: Uh-huh.

Dr. Astrauskas: What happens if it gets too charged?

Chief Ibanez: It doesn't.

Dr. Okorie: It bleeds its energy out into the environment at all times. Stirring up whatever needs stirring.

Dr. Astrauskas: What if nothing needs stirring?

Dr. Okorie: Apparently, nothing never does.

Dr. Astrauskas: You think this is going to work?

Chief Ibanez: No.

Dr. Okorie: If it doesn't, I can try manipulating the granules. See if there's anything residual in the…

<She winces as SCP-6500-SWORD flares. The narrow cliff walls to either side of them reflect the light, glowing bright white.>

<It takes just over eleven minutes to walk the overgrown route from the beach to a widening of the path, dotted with foliage and fallen stones, where the gulch ends in a sheer rock face.>

<Chief Ibanez walks to the centre of the clearing, raises SCP-6500-SWORD over her head, and holds it there.>

<SCP-6500-SWORD emits a pulse of light, and then another. Each pulse strikes the surrounding rocks, and they begin to vibrate. A hollow ringing sound fills the air, and then a grinding groan.>

Chief Ibanez employing SCP-6500-SWORD.

Dr. Astrauskas: Jesus Christ.

<The pulses from SCP-6500-SWORD weaken, then taper off entirely. The blade's glow is now very weak. Chief Ibanez lowers it again, and draws a deep breath.>

<The missing facility is now present. It shows no sign of wavering again.>

Dr. Okorie: The sword abhors a vacuum.

Dr. Astrauskas: Change begets change.

Chief Ibanez: Trauma is a conga line.

<She waits for her equipment to be returned, then gestures at the door.>

Chief Ibanez: Let's go.

<The facility's front doors open when they draw near. They enter into a clean, spacious airlock; the interior doors do not open immediately, and the trio pause before approaching them.>

<The words INSTITUTO de CONTENCIÒN SEGURA are printed in bold letters over the lintel.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Instituto de Contenciòn Segura?

Chief Ibanez: It means—

Dr. Astrauskas: Obviously I know what it means. But, I mean, how?

Dr. Okorie: Could be a precursor. One of the groups that came together to form the Foundation.

Chief Ibanez: Lot of them were real disorganized. Bad record keeping. Some, we're still picking up the pieces decades later. Lost outposts, rogue security systems still plugging away with nobody to defend.

Dr. Okorie: Right. So it must be that.

Chief Ibanez: Except it also can't be.

Dr. Astrauskas: Because of the suit?

Chief Ibanez: Because of the suit.

Dr. Astrauskas: Alternate reality, then.

Dr. Okorie: Which makes a certain sense.

Chief Ibanez: A certain nonsense.

Dr. Okorie: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: You were going to say it makes a certain sense that this thing is from an alternate dimension, because so are your people, and you think your people and my people are our people.

Dr. Astrauskas: Should I know what you guys are talking about?

Dr. Okorie: I don't think of the people you're calling my people as my people, Del but other than that, yes. That's right.

Chief Ibanez: Only they were all from the same alternate dimension, and they had their big break up in this one. So where does a dimension-hopping Foundation precursor facility fit into that?

<Dr. Okorie shrugs.>

Dr. Okorie: Only one way to find out.

Dr. Astrauskas: It always feels like telling on ourselves when we say that.

<Chief Ibanez returns to the exterior doors. They slide open to reveal four members of Delta-6500 in tactical gear, standing at attention.>

Chief Ibanez: Guess we should have brought Hammer Down, but that's hindsight, and today's subject is foresight. So, eyes forward. Look, but don't touch.

<The seven members of Delta-6500 approach the interior doors, Chief Ibanez leading.>

<The doors close.>

<Chief Ibanez walks through the open doors.>

<The doors open.>

<The agents pause on the far side of the doors.>

<The doors close.>

<The agents walk through the open doors.>

<The hall beyond is an infinitely fractalized series of airlocks.>

<The agents exit the facility, backward.>

<The hall beyond is a clean, white-tiled corridor. The floor is the ceiling.>

<The agents walk through the open ceiling.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Oh no.

<The agents walk through the closed ceiling.>

Dr. Okorie: It's like the Breach.

Chief Ibanez: It wasn't like this when I left. Pretty sure.

Dr. Astrauskas: You left a long time ago.

Chief Ibanez: Or maybe just yesterday. Alright folks, SCRAMBLE and Scranton. And let's get a wire going.

<Delta-6500 are fitted with SCRAMBLE helmets, personal reality anchors and a double-reinforced tether line before proceeding further.>

Chief Ibanez: I feel like I'm going to run into myself in here.

Dr. Astrauskas: But which version of you?

Dr. Okorie: There's only ever one version of you.

Chief Ibanez: Beg to differ.

<Chief Ibanez tentatively taps the surface of the water with her boot. The clear ringing of porcelain tile can be heard.>

Chief Ibanez: Okay, so. This is bullshit—

Dr. Okorie: Who's that?

<Chief Ibanez draws her service weapon. The other Mobile Task Force members follow suit.>

Chief Ibanez: I don't see anybody.

Agent Koslova: I was just surprised that Dr. Okorie didn't.

Dr. Okorie: It's just us, Del. Or did you hear something?

Chief Ibanez: I was talking to Udo.

Chief Ibanez: Or the White Rabbits.

Agent Koslova: Yeah, alright. Sorry.

Dr. Okorie: I don't have the entire list memorized.

Dr. Astrauskas: Who are you talking to?

Agent Koslova: Obviously I know that.

Dr. Astrauskas: They handle temporal and spatial anomalies.

Agent Koslova: The Angle Grinders?

Dr. Okorie: I'm right here.

Chief Ibanez: I think we need to get the Angle Grinders in here.

<Chief Ibanez raises SCP-6500-1 over her head. A faint glow surrounds the task force members, and time becomes linear again.>

Chief Ibanez: Follow me. And zip it.

<Delta-6500 exit the facility. Reality failures and chronological dilation begin to plague them again as they reach the airlock; SCP-6500-SWORD is no longer glowing at all, and Chief Ibanez sheaths it before kicking the nearest wall in frustration.>

Dr. Okorie: Did you experience anything like that before?

Chief Ibanez: I think there was something wonky with time, but it can't have been that bad. I got shit done in there.

Dr. Astrauskas: Holy…

<She is staring at Chief Ibanez's back. Chief Ibanez turns to face her.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

<Dr. Astrauskas walks around Chief Ibanez.>

Dr. Astrauskas: The aura.

<Chief Ibanez turns in place, trying to face Dr. Astrauskas again.>

Chief Ibanez: If you're about to tell me I'm emotionally agitated—

Dr. Astrauskas: Not your aura. I couldn't see it before, because of the glow. I'm talking about the sword's aura.

Chief Ibanez: Why does the sword have an aura?

Dr. Okorie: Maybe it's alive?

<Chief Ibanez glares over her shoulder at the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD.>

Chief Ibanez: No. I hate that. No.

Dr. Astrauskas: More likely it's literally absorbing something from you.

Dr. Okorie: What kind of something? The stuff we already knew about?

Dr. Astrauskas: Maybe? I feel like I haven't seen protagonistic potentiality turn up in an aura before. And plenty of our co-workers are plenty dynamic.

Chief Ibanez: One more question for the pile. And I think I know how to get them all answered at once.

<Chief Ibanez sighs.>

Chief Ibanez: I really do hate stories, though.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-8, Exploration (Facility): After emerging from the structure — identified internally as Facility-34 — Delta-6500 camped on the Zevalan beach for the night. Due to the high priority of Protocol GYRUS, both MTF Theta-90 ("Angle Grinders") and MTF Lambda-5 ("White Rabbits") were transported to the site by daybreak; Chief Ibanez requested an additional consult, who would arrive the following day. Installation of full-scale Scranton Reality Anchors required several hours of work; by midmorning the Facility was sufficiently restored to baseline that exploration could continue while the remainder was secured.

Chief Ibanez, Dr. Astrauskas and Dr. Okorie each led investigation teams into the Facility interior to determine its contents, meeting back at the entrance hall shortly before noon.

Instituto de Contenciòn Segura emblem, Facility-34.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. Okorie is sitting in a red plastic visitor's chair against a dusty, tiled wall. The insignia of the Secure Containment Institute is visible, though faded, on the tiles. Chief Ibanez is pacing; she is wearing an old Foundation-issue bomber jacket, circa 1990s, over her jumpsuit. She did not bring it with her to Caleta San Roque.>

<Dr. Astrauskas arrives, clipboard in hand. She waves the clipboard at the other two.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Just got a report from the radiologists.

<Chief Ibanez stops pacing.>

Chief Ibanez: Yeah? Anything interesting?

Dr. Astrauskas: Only that this building is about six hundred years old.

Chief Ibanez: What?

Dr. Astrauskas: Yeah.

Chief Ibanez: No, what? That's not just weird. That's fucking impossible.

Dr. Okorie: All I've got is weird, unfortunately.

Chief Ibanez: Well?

Dr. Okorie: Hydroponics. Weird hydroponics. And what looks like a bunch of old demonics circuitry, shorted out.

<Dr. Astrauskas sits in the chair beside Dr. Okorie's.>

Dr. Okorie: I took a look at the climate controls. The reason it was just a bunch of dirt is that all the plants died. The reason all the plants died?

Chief Ibanez: Don't leave me in suspense.

Dr. Okorie: They got too warm.

Dr. Astrauskas: As in, they scorched? Dehydrated?

Dr. Okorie: As in they got warm. Room temperature.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Okorie: This Facility has what's got to be the world's only hydroponic freezer.

Dr. Astrauskas: So… you're saying they were growing Stranger-in-the-Mist.

<Chief Ibanez shakes her head.>

Chief Ibanez: That doesn't make any sense. We traded for that with Puerto Extraño.

Dr. Okorie: I don't think it was a very healthy crop. They probably needed to refresh it a lot with plants from outside.

Dr. Astrauskas: What would they have been doing with the flowers at all, though? On an industrial scale?

Chief Ibanez: Visions in bulk? I don't know.

Dr. Okorie: What did you find, Del?

Chief Ibanez: A big machine that doesn't work anymore. And the armoury.

Dr. Astrauskas: Any of those fancy suits still in there?

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Chief Ibanez: They're all in locked cases. Directorial override. I found the keycard while I was scrounging, and I hid it. Hid it real well.

<She produces said keycard. There is no name or photograph, only security clearance and position information.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Well, that's definitely a win. What else did you have socked away in here?

Chief Ibanez: My journal.

<She tosses an antiquated personal tape recording device into Dr. Okorie's lap.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You knew where to find it.

Chief Ibanez: I did.

Dr. Okorie: Did you know before you came back in here?

Chief Ibanez: I did not.

<Dr. Okorie rewinds the tape, and presses the 'Play' button.>

<The voice is that of Chief Ibanez, roughly as she sounded after pickup by the Foundation in 1994.>

Ibanez (Recording): They're all dead.

<Silence on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): Remember that. They're all dead.

<Silence on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I can't fix that. But I can do something about it.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I don't understand this place at all.

I can read a lot of their files. The older stuff is mostly in Spanish. The newer stuff is usually English. Somebody took a marker to the oldest stuff, and it's a really magic marker because I'm pretty sure there's nothing underneath anymore. It's technical and blunt. The new stuff is looser. Sometimes handwritten.

I almost think I recognize the handwriting.

But what's this place even for? The files don't make sense. It sounds like outsiders came here to watch us, but then ended up giving us the keys to this place and… what? Going away? Why would they do that?

There's a lot of references to a machine in the lower levels. I don't know what it's for. Maybe it can help me.

Maybe it's a bomb.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): It's not a bomb.

<She sighs.>

Ibanez (Recording): I read some notes. There's supposed to be an operator's manual, but I can't find that. All I can find is what somebody wrote down about what was in it, and that doesn't tell me what the thing actually does, just how to make it do it. I switched it on. Nothing exploded. That was disappointing.

There's a startup sequence. I don't really think I understand it. Feels like I need to know a lot more before I can make this thing work.

There's a lot of books in here. A lot of stuff on tape, and files on the computers. I'm going to do some reading.

It's not like there's any rush.

They're all dead.

And nobody is coming for me.

<Chief Ibanez walks away, back down the hall.>

<Dr. Okorie pauses the recording.>

Dr. Okorie: Do you want us to—

Chief Ibanez: No need.

<She tenses her shoulders as she walks.>

Chief Ibanez: I remember it all, now.

<Dr. Okorie resumes the recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I don't know how long I've been reading. But I noticed something strange today.

I… haven't been eating.

At all.

I haven't used the outhouses. Haven't had a drink of water.

I took a look at the camera, the exterior camera.

At first I thought it was a coincidence. It was evening, just like the first time I looked. But no.

Crocker is still out there. Still waiting for my answer.

Still standing next to my brother's…

<Silence on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I don't think time passes in here. Not until I look through that camera.

Maybe it's like that experiment with the cat. I don't know.

But it's giving me ideas.

I've got enough science equipment in here to run experiments of my own.

<Click on recording.>

<Chief Ibanez is now standing at the end of the hall, her back to Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie.>

Ibanez (Recording): It's been three months. I've spent almost the whole time tearing everything out of the walls, looking for keycards and hidden doors.

Found some.

I found their training materials. I found their hospital. I found the gym, and the vitamins and supplements. I've been listening to engineering books on tape while I tear my muscles over and over again.

I think I'd clean up at the Olympics.

I know how the machine works now. At least, I think I know. I'm going to try and turn it on.

Maybe it doesn't do anything useful.

That doesn't really matter. I came in here looking for a weapon, and I found one.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I spent this afternoon outside. Outside the Facility.

Outside everything.

I fired up the machine, fed in the flowers, just like it said. I keyed in the first sequence I found in the back of the manual, and I hit the big red button.

Pretty light show. I threw up.

I checked the exterior camera.

Pitch black.

I waited twenty minutes, and when I didn't see anything else, I went to the front door and opened it.

There really wasn't anything out there.

Anything at all.

I almost expected to suffocate, but the air didn't exchange. I could breathe out there just as well as I can breathe in here.

I came back in eventually, when I got tired of staring at nothing. Reversed the sequence, hit the button.

I'm here again.

She's still out there.

I'm going to go through every sequence in the book.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): It was just like home. Only empty, and greener.

I swam in a bay filled with algae and fish I could see through.

I ate one of the fish for dinner. Caught it with my bare hands, and barbecued it at the front door. I don't think it had ever seen a predator before.

It's going to be just like that, when I come back. For the last time.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): When I spend too long outside, something funny happens in my head.

The stuff I did, I don't remember. I don't remember what I was doing in here, when I'm out there. I don't remember what I did out there, when I get back in here.

The stuff I learn, that sticks. But I can't picture how I learned it. I've got callouses on my hands, and I don't know how I got them.

I wish my other memories worked the same way.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): Half of the sequences lead nowhere. The rest lead to places that are… waiting. Waiting to become somewhere.

They're all shaped like the Cala. Like Zevala, without the village. And they're all different. Sometimes a little. Sometimes a lot.

Two days ago I went rock climbing in a big, grey, crumbling canyon with a dark red sky overhead.

Yesterday I ran a marathon in a white salt desert.

Today was endurance testing in what looked like nuclear winter. It was so cold.

I don't know where I'm going tomorrow.

I think the machine's starting to sound strange. Stranger than before. Like maybe something's wrong.

I think I understand the repair instructions, but they want a lot of stuff I haven't got. Or maybe I do have it, and I just haven't found the right storage room yet.

Probably not worth chancing.

I found a suit of armour in the security lockup. I've been practicing with it.

I know what I'm going to do.

And when it's done, I'll come back in here, and keep running the sequences.

Maybe I'll try a few of my own.

Maybe I'll fix the machine before I do that.

Maybe I won't.

<Click on recording.>

Ibanez (Recording): I'm ready.

The machine caught fire when I got back. I used up a whole fire extinguisher making it stop. It still turns on, but the lights are all red.

I went into the freezer. Couldn't see my breath anymore. Red lights there, too.

End of the line.

I left the monitor on all day. Crocker lasted a few hours, then dragged my brother's body off camera. I can see the shadow of movement at the end of the canyon. I know they're still out there. They think they can wait me out.

They think they've got time.

<She laughs. The tone is flat.>

Their time is up.

<The tape stops.>

Chief Ibanez: Roz, did you find anything else?

Dr. Astrauskas: No… Del, this tape—

Chief Ibanez: We'll get to that. Focus up.

<Dr. Astrauskas blows out a frustrated breath. Her hands are shaking.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Fine. Okay. I didn't find anything else, but Koslova did. She was tagging after the Angle Grinders, and found the Director's personal log.

Chief Ibanez: What? Where? I'm sure I would have seen that, unless there's doors in here that only open to skinny women with fat knives.

Dr. Astrauskas: It was in that airlock that opens on stone.

Chief Ibanez: I must have been in there twenty times. For…

<Chief Ibanez winces, then strikes herself in the side of the head. Both of the doctors instinctively jolt in their chairs, reaching for her before lowering their hands again and frowning.>

Chief Ibanez: Reasons. God damn it, it still hurts. I remember, but it fucking hurts.

<She takes a deep breath.>

Chief Ibanez: But I'm sure I wouldn't have missed a thing like that. I was collecting everything important.

<Dr. Astrauskas pauses.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I don't think it was in there when you were.

Chief Ibanez: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Dr. Astrauskas: Take a look.

<She removes a data pad from her jacket, and hands it to Chief Ibanez. The pad is an unfamiliar make and model, and the rubber slipcase carries the insignia of the Secure Containment Institute.>

<Chief Ibanez begins to read.>

Personal Log of J. ██████, Director, Facility-34

01/09/1994

We don't know much more about these people now than we did six months ago. They keep to themselves, which is good; we could enforce a curfew, probably, but it's better not to need to. Our resources are over-committed as it is. They answer our questions politely enough, even though half the time the answer is "no", as in "no, I'm not going to tell you about that". One thing is clear: they aren't from around here. Even though almost all of them are obviously Argentinean, and most of them speak Spanish. Their hovels are a whole lot older than makes any sense, and it's completely impossible to trace any of their bloodlines, and no progress has been made on answering the biggest, most brightly burning question: how the hell did they manage to stay hidden for so long? Whatever it was they were doing, they aren't doing it now. They rely on us to hush it all up, which I guess is the price we pay for nosing in.

The fact is, they're not nearly the strangest or most foreign thing on our soil today. It's starting to look like every corner of South America is haunted, and we're getting reports of potential anomalies in Asia, Europe, and even up north now. A few more years and we might need to think about spreading the net a lot wider. Global coordination. A thicker blanket between civilization and the spooky stuff on the outskirts.

If that happens, I wonder how long we'll be content to let these people keep their secrets.

06/04/1994

It's getting rough out there. Caught with our pants down. I'm not sure we can win this thing.

They came to me today, with a confession and a plan. The confession was a lot.

The plan is everything.

06/29/1994

They'll all be dead by now. Everybody who isn't in here with me. All gone.

I always thought it would start suddenly, and end the same. Maybe a few hours between the first whimper and the final bang. We'd just started scraping the surface of the world, just barely caught a glimpse of what lies beneath, but we saw enough to know how very outclassed we all were. Too few rowers against too strange a current. It could only ever end one way.

I knew better than to pray for painless, but quick? I thought quick would be assured.

It took decades, decades, but we're finally snowed under. We can't hold it back anymore. The entire world will freeze over, or burn, or whatever it is they're trying to accomplish. If we'd had more time, it would have been different. More people. More knowledge.

And that, of course, is why I'm here.

They'll all be dead by now. That's the precondition. If they'd finished up under Yellowstone, we might have had a second option. But they didn't, so we don't. So I put out the call, gathered everyone I could — neighbors included, since this is really their rodeo — and now I'm sitting here with one metaphorical finger on that very real, very big red button.

The doors are shut. We've got all the time we need. So I thought I should at least make a record, you know? Put down any metaphors that occurred to me, capture the mood of the moment. I can do it up decently once the dust settles, or find a better writer who can sort out a more fitting epitaph.

My words are spent. I guess it's time to go.

See you on the other side, you sons of bitches.

We'll be ready when you swing back around, mark my words.

??/??/????

They're all dead.

For real, this time. My people, the ones who were going to make it. They trusted me, and that turned out to be just another in our long line of mistakes. The exchangers didn't work. They weren't prepared for the shift. There's a corpse in every corner now, blood leaking out of their ears. I'm the only one who survived.

You wouldn't think a hundred dead would be so bad after six billion. But I knew these people, so it matters more. Isn't that disgusting?

Maybe I can find a way to breed that sort of tribalism out of us. Lord knows I've got the time, now.

Only I don't, do I? I'm young, but I'm not getting any younger. I need to get moving, but I'm afraid to open those doors. I don't even know what this part of the world is like, in this period. Are there other people around? Will I be able to explain what I need, to them? Will we even speak the same language?

I had people who knew these things. I should have talked to them more often.

What I do have is The Severed. Not a single one of them failed to make the passage. Their leader reminds me her ancestors have done it before; that's how they helped us to make the machine, after all. She tells me she can still help, they all can. She assures me there will be continuity.

I don't care about continuity.

At this price, I demand change.

~1500

At some point, everyone thinks about what they'd do with a second chance. What they'd do differently. What mistakes they'd avoid. What ones they wouldn't. It's always stuff like "I'd make my mom quit smoking", or "I'd get diagnosed sooner", or "I'd handle that relationship better". But nobody ever has to put those plans into place, because there are no second chances. Nobody ever comes up against the fact that you don't just get to improve this thing, or that thing, or the other, you have to relive everything in between as well, and get it right too. That would be a hell of a program to have to code. Making it work as a fallible human being? Completely ridiculous. That's why the whole thing can never be anything but a hypothetical.

And yet, here I am. At square one. With the whole sorry mess both behind and ahead of me. The vaguest sense of what went wrong, and an even vaguer idea of how I might help set it right. Potential allies, all of them dealing with a similar sort of loss. But at least they have a road map, and maybe we have each other. I don't know.

I think I'm going to spend a week or two losing my mind, first. As a palate cleanser.

I hoped I'd remember more.

It's all just flashes and intimation. I can gather a lot from what I wrote, but I didn't write a lot.

Maybe it will be enough.

But for who?

02/13/1867

I'm dying.

But it doesn't matter. The legacy is secure.

We gave him everything, in the end. For his part, he gave us a lot. It was an equitable trade, considering the circumstances, and I trust him to make the most of it. There's a long, long road ahead, but he will know — our children will know — what's waiting for them at the end. If not the specifics, then the general gist.

And they'll know it's their job to stop it.

We can't stay in here. The cracks are showing. Not wide, yet, but wide enough some day to swallow us all up. The bay will suffice, until it's time to move again.

Maybe it won't ever be time. That would be lovely.

But I'll never know.

So I just have to hope.

If anyone's reading this:

Get it right this time.

Personal Log of T. ██████, Director, Facility-34

04/01/1867

An era ends.

The next won't last nearly so long.

But it won't be any less busy.

Personal Log of N. ██████, Director, Facility-34

03/18/1879

We're finally able to start fixing some of the things in here. I estimate we'll have most of the equipment repaired decades before it would be possible to invent it.

Personal Log of R. ██████, Director, Facility-34

07/09/1969

The difference we've made is extraordinary. The only thing more difficult than nudging history in the right direction is occluding the origin of the push.

Humanity is standing in a crowd of faceless horrors, and we're elbowing them toward the fire exit.

Personal Log of O. ██████, Director, Facility-34

09/02/1975

This place has almost outlived its usefulness. That was always part of the plan, but it's honestly a surprise to see it happen. People have lived and died in here without ever knowing for sure that everything was going to work out.

I've had to turn on the occlusion system. It's finicky, and I don't know how long it will last, but I can't take the chance of some satellite picking us up. The limitations are frightening, but at least nobody else knows how to weaponize them. I hope.

The Facility should be self-sustaining now. We're going to leave the keys in the ignition, just in case, but I think the next time I walk out those doors will be the last time.

I hope nobody ever needs to go back in.

Because that will mean we didn't get it right this time, either.

Personal Log of L. ██████, Director, Facility-34

06/29/1994

Someone's been in here.

I can't find the Director's keycard. I think it might be gone. There's places in here we wouldn't be able to cut our way into if we spent a decade on it. We're shut out.

The machine is broken, and the flowers are wilting. We were able to get into parts storage, and Ricardo thinks he can get it working again. But it's going to be a one-way trip.

I just hope we haven't got a stowaway.

But I don't think we can afford to keep looking. The dilation isn't the same as it was before. Whatever's wrong with the machine, it's spreading. They're seeing things in the corridors. It's getting harder to talk. Time is running every which way. When I check the monitor, it seems like outside is catching up. We need to be out of here before they realize we're gone. Before they kill whoever's trying to kill them.

06/30/1994

They're all dead.

I have to believe that, because anything else would paralyze me.

I have to save what's left.

I have to press the button.

Dad. Teresa. Ernesto. Jorge. Aurelio. Eloy. Fina. Yésica.

I'm so sorry.

<Dr. Okorie, now standing, places a hand on Chief Ibanez's shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: They were here.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: They were here after I was here.

<Dr. Astrauskas stands, and places a hand on Chief Ibanez's other shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: They left me.

<Chief Ibanez shakes them both off, and marches toward the operations centre.>

Chief Ibanez: They're alive.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-9, Free Port Consult: On 01/16/2024, prior to embarking on Operation CICLO, Chief Ibanez consulted with Queen Aphora of FP-09 on the topic of the supposed "Prophets of the Severed Halls." A partial transcript of their interview is appended below, for context.

<Excerpt begins.>

<Chief Ibanez approaches, and stands beside Aphora at the window.>

Aphora: Come to see the harm your lover wrought personally, now that the dust has settled?

Chief Ibanez: The dust is never settled with you.

Aphora: It will certainly never be settled between us.

Chief Ibanez: Suits me fine.

<She taps the glass.>

Chief Ibanez: Repairs seem to be going well.

<Aphora grunts.>

Chief Ibanez: Udo told me she intentionally cushioned everything in as much sand as she could before she brought it up through the crust. As far as I can see, most of the city made it out intact.

Aphora: Most. I'll note she made precious little effort to preserve our walls.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, well. As I think she'd remind you, walls make bad neighbours.

Aphora: You came here to reinforce her ill-considered, heavy-handed lectures on responsibility?

Chief Ibanez: I came here to talk about the Severed Halls. You said there was more to the story.

Aphora: I did say that. I also said it wasn't mine to tell.

Chief Ibanez: You're in this conflict now, Aphora. There's no weaseling out of it. If there's another involved party, one we don't know about…

Aphora: You want to find them, ruin their homes too?

Chief Ibanez: I want to know what part they're going to play.

<Aphora sighs.>

Aphora: Their part concluded long ago. As I told… Dr. Okorie, they were seers.

Chief Ibanez: They prophesied.

Aphora: Yes.

Chief Ibanez: When did your people break with the prophets?

Aphora: Long, long ago. Before I was born.

Chief Ibanez: Which was when?

Aphora: About 1500.

Chief Ibanez: Isn't that when the Unyielding and Uncontained were created?

Aphora: That's one theory.

Chief Ibanez: You're going to try and be cagey with me? I've still got access to that orbital kill satellite.

Aphora: And you won't use it, so long as you think there's a chance you can wring more information out of me. Consider my recalcitrance an investment in my own future.

Chief Ibanez: I just consider it annoying. But fine, we'll put a pin in that. Why did you break with the prophets?

Aphora: They became selfish.

Chief Ibanez: Not like you guys.

Aphora: Precisely not like us. They felt guilty about those we left behind. And so we had to leave them.

Chief Ibanez: You dumped your conscience on the side of the multiversal road, huh?

Aphora: They were not our conscience. They were a floating, omnidirectional sense of guilt. It bound them together. And that was the source of their power.

Chief Ibanez: How so?

Aphora: They knew each other. They were connected by those inextricable strands of responsibility. In tandem, they could move as one. Like I said, selfish.

Chief Ibanez: You and I define that word differently. What kind of mobility are we talking, here?

Aphora: The kind for which the ends of the Earth prove no barrier.

Chief Ibanez: You mean…?

Aphora: Their rituals were vital to our escape. We had to develop a means of our own, when they were gone.

Chief Ibanez: You're saying they were the ones who made the city move? Who saved you from your universe exploding?

Aphora: Yes.

<Silence on recording.>

Aphora: That troubles you.

Chief Ibanez: No, it's just…

Aphora: Why? What connection have you just made?

Chief Ibanez: Where did you leave them?

Aphora: Why does it matter? They won't let you find them.

Chief Ibanez: It matters because… I think…

<Chief Ibanez takes a deep breath.>

Chief Ibanez: I think they did to me, what you did to them.

<Excerpt ends.>

Addendum 8273-10, Additional Consult: Immediately after updating the SCP-8273 file with Addendum 8273-8, PTF Delta-6500 received a directive from the Department of Containment barring them from further investigating the implications of the Facility-34 Director's personal log beyond the scope of the present subject. Chief Ibanez's earlier consultation request, to assess the state of the Facility's dimensional travel mechanism, was granted; the circumstances of the consultant's arrival are outlined in the transcript below.

<Transcript begins.>

Dr. Placeholder McDoctorate.

Chief Ibanez: What?

Dr. McDoctorate: I said, the band's back together, huh?

<Dr. Okorie smiles, and waves. Dr. McDoctorate waves back.>

Chief Ibanez: Are you alone? I was expecting a real scientist, too.

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm a real…

<Dr. McDoctorate scowls.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm not just a pataphysicist. I'm a hardware and software engineer, as well as a quantum theorist. I built the REISNO Cannon, remember? And I've been thinking of getting back into that sort of thing lately. You know, crazy machines.

<Dr. McDoctorate chuckles.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I love crazy machines.

<He notices something over Chief Ibanez's shoulder, and suddenly grins.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Oh, hey! You brought the thing. I've been asking to study that for ages. How'd you get it out of the DoC's clutches?

Chief Ibanez: Sokolsky..Dr. Daniil Sokolsky, Deputy Director of the Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority.

Dr. McDoctorate: Yeah. Figures.

<The four of them head up the path toward Facility-34.>

Dr. Okorie: What did you want to study it for?

Dr. McDoctorate: Are you kidding? The pataphysics sword?

<Chief Ibanez huffs.>

Chief Ibanez: Not this again.

Dr. McDoctorate: It's an artifact that catalyzes your protagonistic potential into a source of renewable anomalous energy. It's quite possibly the coolest thing I've ever seen that doesn't have moving parts or code. Why did you bring it?

<They have reached the entrance to the Facility. Dr. McDoctorate's eyes widen.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Oh, wow. You brought it to make this place appear, didn't you?

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm still not clear why it worked.

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, it's obvious, isn't it?

Dr. Astrauskas: No. That's why I said I'm not clear on it.

Dr. McDoctorate: Sorry. Sorry. I mean… are you familiar with the trope of the doomed hometown?

Chief Ibanez: Are you familiar with the trope of the expert who dies early?

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm familiar with all the tropes, but I don't think there's a name for that one. Anyway, it'd be sudden sequel death syndrome in this case. What was I saying?

Dr. Astrauskas: Doomed hometown.

<Dr. McDoctorate extends his arms wide for emphasis.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Right. One of the most common launching pads for a hero. Heading out into a brave new future, with the past on fire behind them. But today, she came back.

<Dr. McDoctorate claps. Dr. Astrauskas jumps.>

Dr. McDoctorate: The arc is completed. That's powerful.

Dr. Okorie: That's not what it was.

Dr. McDoctorate: No?

Dr. Okorie: No.

Dr. McDoctorate: Then what?

<Dr Okorie glances at Chief Ibanez, who is looking at the sky.>

Dr. Okorie: Ask me later. Can you fix the machine?

<Dr. McDoctorate shrugs.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Maybe? From the outline you sent it's not like anything I've ever seen, but then, that goes for all eigenmachines. Having the sword here will help, assuming my techno-wizardry counts as a kind of heroics.

Chief Ibanez: Weak assumption.

<Dr. McDoctorate heads for the Facility, ignoring her.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Anyway, leave it with me.

<He glances over his shoulder, and raises a finger.>

Dr. McDoctorate: But keep that sword charged, just in case.

<Five hours have passed. Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie are playing double solitaire in the control room. Chief Ibanez is sitting across the room, her back to the others.>

Dr. Okorie: I have a semantics question.

<Dr. Astrauskas nods. Chief Ibanez does not move.>

Dr. Okorie: Does 'no further investigation' mean we can't chat about it?

Dr. Astrauskas: I mean, we'd only be talking about the investigation we already did.

Dr. Okorie: Cool.

<She throws down her cards.>

Dr. Okorie: WHAT THE FUCK.

<Chief Ibanez glances over at her, but still does not respond.>

<Dr. Okorie stands, and begins pacing operations control.>

Dr. Okorie: We know what it means, right? What it has to mean? It can only—

Dr. Astrauskas: WHAT THE FUCK!

<Dr. Okorie jumps, and glares at Dr. Astrauskas.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Sorry. I've got a longer fuse. Yeah, this is too much. We have to talk about it.

Dr. Okorie: Okay.

Dr. Astrauskas: Alright.

Dr. Okorie: So, we know the world is kind of ending. Because of the cycle.

Dr. Astrauskas: Yeah.

Dr. Okorie: And we learned last year that other worlds have ended before, because of the same thing.

Dr. Astrauskas: Right. And you and your mom are descendants of escapees from some of those other worlds.

Dr. Okorie: Right.

Dr. Astrauskas: So is it that weird to find out someone time travelled from one of those other worlds to found the Foundation?

<Silence on recording.>

Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie: (in unison) YES!

<Chief Ibanez sighs.>

Chief Ibanez: Who cares?

<They glance in her direction. She does not meet their eyes.>

Dr. Okorie: Del…

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm sorry. It's just, it's a lot. I know that you…

<She raises her hands, then slaps them to her thighs in frustration.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I know.

Chief Ibanez: It's fine.

<She stands, and walks to the glass double doors leading to the exterior corridor.>

Chief Ibanez: It's whatever.

Dr. Okorie: Del—

<Chief Ibanez attempts to push open the doors, both at once. She strikes the crossbars, and the glass shatters.>

<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie stand, and rush to her side.>

Chief Ibanez: Fuck off.

Dr. Okorie: Multiversal travel must have weakened the glass. That stuff in the diary about exchangers—

Dr. Astrauskas: Did you cut yourself? Let me—

Chief Ibanez: FUCK OFF!

<She shoves them away from her, slams the doors fully open, and storms into the corridor.>

<There is an exclamation of surprise and pain, in a male voice, and Chief Ibanez shouts in inarticulate rage.>

<Dr. McDoctorate appears in the doorway, rubbing his hip. He looks down at the broken glass.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Bad time?

<Dr. Okorie purses her lips.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, uh. So.

<Chief Ibanez pushes roughly past him again, into operations control. She pulls a chair away from a monitoring console with enough force to briefly lift it from the floor, slams it down, and sits.>

<Silence on recording.>

<Chief Ibanez clenches her jaw.>

Chief Ibanez: WELL?

<Dr. McDoctorate blinks, then gently pulls out a second chair on the other side of the double doors, and sits down. The other two doctors lean on the backs of the nearest aisle consoles, looking back and forth between Chief Ibanez and Dr. McDoctorate.>

Dr. McDoctorate: So, there's a problem.

Dr. Astrauskas: Just the one?

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, just the one we can do anything about. The Facility has a variety of defensive systems I don't fully understand, and I'm just going to say right out that there's no chance I will understand them any time soon. There's no documentation, and several of them have become disused to the point of being fancy-looking slag. Between metal fatigue and the effects of our SRAs, time dilation is now almost nil and I don't see that ever changing. And if any of these doohickeys put up that dome people saw during TAILWIND KITE, that dome is staying down. For now, at least.

<He gives Chief Ibanez a wry, if cautious, look.>

Dr. McDoctorate Though I suspect you don't need or particularly want help on the defensive front.

Chief Ibanez: No. Focus on the things I can't do on my own.

Dr. McDoctorate: Big ticket item it is. I've got most of the mechanism figured out.

<Dr. Okorie frowns.>

Dr. Okorie: How? How can you possibly?

Dr. McDoctorate: Don't get me wrong. I don't know why this thing does what it presumably does—

Dr. Astrauskas: What does it presumably do?

<Chief Ibanez crosses her arms, and looks at the ceiling.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, it's called the Trans-Liminal Propulser — which is not what I would call very good English, by the way — so it presumably travels between universes. Whether that's alternate timelines, alternate universes, or tangents, I have no idea. Just like I have no idea how it's capable of doing that. Which, by the way, holy shit! Had to get that out of the way.

Dr. Okorie: How dare you.

Dr. McDoctorate: Sorry. But anyway, what I do know is what a machine looks like when it's properly ticking over, and this one is getting there fast. It was mostly just wear and tear. Like somebody took the old jalopy for a spin one time too many.

Chief Ibanez: Somebody.

Dr. McDoctorate: Yeah.

Dr. Okorie: So, what's the problem?

Dr. McDoctorate: The other thing that happens when you don't do the required maintenance on your vehicle.

Dr. Okorie: Your stickers expire?

Dr. Astrauskas: You run out of fuel.

Dr. Okorie: Oh. I don't do a lot of driving.

Dr. Astrauskas: Basement dwellers.

<Dr. Okorie swats her.>

Dr. Okorie: What's it run on?

Dr. McDoctorate: No idea. I guess technically that could qualify for a second problem.

Chief Ibanez: Visions.

<The other three turn to face her.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Eh?

<Chief Ibanez rolls her eyes, and leave them pointed at the ceiling.>

Chief Ibanez: Stranger-in-the-Mist. They use it for visions.

<Dr. Okorie nods.>

Chief Ibanez: Aphora said the prophets needed a big supply of it, for everything they did. Their power came from the flowers.

Dr. Okorie: Oh.

Dr. McDoctorate: Flower power.

Dr. Astrauskas: The power to see potential futures.

Dr. McDoctorate: That's kind of elegant. And it would explain the hydroponics.

Dr. Astrauskas: How soon can we get a fresh supply?

Chief Ibanez: Not soon enough.

Dr. Okorie: The Foundation's on better terms with Puerto Extraño then Zevala ever was, and they've been working a long time to produce a fresh batch. Plus, cargo planes move a lot faster than ships. Won't be more than a few hours.

Chief Ibanez: Like I said.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-11, Transit: With the arrival of technical specialists from Site-34 the following day and ontokinetics personnel from Site-120 the day after, Dr. McDoctorate's assessment and repair work proceeded at a rapid pace. Chief Ibanez conducted training exercises and minor off-site operations coordinated with Latin American Branch Command, while Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie maintained operational control at Caleta San Roque. Chief Ibanez returned five days after Dr. McDoctorate's arrival to provide additional engineering consults, and two days later the final adjustments had been made.

The device's computer controls were activated in full, and after a further day familiarizing themselves with the operating system and interface and running diagnostics — with Chief Ibanez's memories of her earlier trips now fully restored — it was determined by Delta-6500 that all was in order.

Chief Ibanez assembled her command personnel in operations control to begin the exploratory component of Operation CICLO. A transcript of their brief discussion is appended below.

<Transcript begins.>

<Chief Ibanez stands in front of the central board. Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie stand behind the front row of consoles.>

Dr. Okorie: Today's the day?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah. Assuming poofy fixed the exchangers.

<Dr. McDoctorate reaches up to finger his curly hair, mouthing the word 'poofy' with a frown.>

Dr. McDoctorate: They're fixed, yes. I take great pride in the fact that my projects never result in everyone dying.

Chief Ibanez: Just thought I'd ask.

Dr. Astrauskas: Haven't seen much of you these past few.

Chief Ibanez: Been busy. Nobody but me has ever used the thing before.

Dr. Okorie: And yet you've been flying around the countryside for most of the last week. Del, are you—

Chief Ibanez: I want to get this over with. I don't stand around waiting for things to happen. They can happen now, so I'm here. I'm ready. Are you?

Dr. Astrauskas: It might be prudent to give anyone who's taking the trip a psych workup. Looking for stress. Even a proper aura reading—

Chief Ibanez: You think there's any chance this boat leaves without me?

Dr. Astrauskas: No, but—

Chief Ibanez: You think I'm fragile? Udo, you think that?

Dr. Okorie: We know you aren't.

Dr. McDoctorate: You do seem very angry, though. That could cloud your judgement.

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Chief Ibanez: I'm the ranking combatant. I'm in charge of any security aspects. You and Udo have scientific control, and I don't rank either of you. Roz has last say on psych matters. That enough ass-covering for you?

Dr. Okorie: Nobody's trying to cover—

Chief Ibanez: I hate this. I always hate this shit. You think you have to say this, but it won't change anything. I'm going. You're going. Any conversation we could have will just delay the inevitable.

Dr. Okorie: We've delayed the inevitable before. You and me, and Place. And the Leading Edge. You can get a lot done in an interval, sometimes.

Chief Ibanez: Not this time. If there's work worth doing now, it's on the other side.

Dr. McDoctorate: We still don't really know much about that other side. The controls make it easy enough to backtrack to the Facility's last stop, and it's one you've been to before according to your notes on the manual and the recordings you made, but…

Chief Ibanez: But?

Dr. McDoctorate: But all you did was go for a swim and eat some fish. Three decades ago. Who knows what we're going to see on the other side, really?

Chief Ibanez: That's why we're putting a limit on our losses. Us four, as many techs as you need, and a couple agents from 6500. Everybody else stands well back and hopes nothing explodes.

Dr. Okorie: Wouldn't it be safer to bring everyone?

Chief Ibanez: Safer for us. Not safer for everyone. A small team might be vulnerable, but if it's really bad wherever we end up, and we get overwhelmed, I want as much brain and brawnpower on this side trying to get us back as possible.

Dr. Astrauskas: So you're leaving the sword?

<Chief Ibanez scoffs.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Didn't think so.

Chief Ibanez: The supplies I wanted are stocked?

Dr. Astrauskas: Food, meds, and about half Puerto Extraño's crop of Nigella. But I know you checked already.

Chief Ibanez: Never hurts to double-check. Whatever's waiting for us, I doubt there's a corner grocery.

<She thumbs her lapel radio.>

Chief Ibanez: You there, Nasty?

Agent Koslova: Setting up shop. Ready in five.

Chief Ibanez: Place?

Dr. McDoctorate: Essential personnel are already inside, and everyone else is at the camp.

Chief Ibanez: Good boy. Go tell your folks the game is on, and then meet us at the big red button.

Dr. Okorie: Is it actually a big red button?

Chief Ibanez: You heard the recording. I really was hoping for a bomb.

Dr. Astrauskas: It still might be one.

Dr. McDoctorate: It won't blow up. More likely it smears our atoms across the timeplane.

Dr. Astrauskas: It not doing that is even more likely, though, right?

Dr. McDoctorate: I'd say yes.

Dr. Astrauskas: That's a relief.

Dr. McDoctorate: In the confidence that if I'm wrong, you won't be able to complain to me about it after.

Dr. McDoctorate: I love this thing. So elegant.

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm still amazed you guys got it back in order so fast.

Chief Ibanez: I'm not.

Dr. Astrauskas: Well, sure, you've seen it before, but that was ages ago. And Place never saw it at all.

Dr. Okorie: Do we know that?

<Chief Ibanez nods fractionally.>

Dr. Astrauskas: What?

Dr. McDoctorate: If this was constructed in the 1990s in a universe not too much different from this one, it's remotely conceivable I could have been involved in the project. Probably as a programmer. The code was suspiciously simple to untangle. The thought did occur to me.

Dr. Astrauskas: Well, that's kind of creepy.

Dr. McDoctorate: Let's agree to call it auspicious instead, eh? For luck.

Chief Ibanez: We good?

Dr. McDoctorate looks down at the main console.

Dr. McDoctorate: Board is green. Red's all yours.

<He steps aside to let her take his place.>

<She keys her mic.>

Chief Ibanez: Hold on to your atoms.

<She releases the mic, and takes a deep breath.>

<In a single fluid motion she steps up to the console and presses the activation switch.>

<Dr. Okorie speaks first, barely above a whisper.>

Dr. Okorie: Wheeee.

Dr. McDoctorate: I was really hoping for a 'vwoorp', at least.

<Dr. McDoctorate gently eases Chief Ibanez aside, and examines the readout.>

<Without waiting for a verdict, Chief Ibanez leaves the room. The others follow, Dr. McDoctorate bringing up the rear.>

<Agents Koslova and Koslov join the group as they approach the rear airlock. They do not speak.>

<She places a finger on the outer door release.>

<She whispers something inaudible, and cycles the airlock.>

<The inner door closes.>

<Gases exchange.>

<The outer door opens.>

<Beyond, all is green.>

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-12, Arrival: With confirmation from Chief Ibanez that the exterior environment was safe in an immediate sense, instruments were set up by the skeleton scientific staff to determine atmospheric conditions in greater detail. It was quickly determined that the Facility's destination, topographically similar to the gulch on Caleta San Roque but densely overgrown with unfamiliar vegetation, had the same atmospheric content as the planet Earth — minus environmental pollutants, which were negligible.

PTF Delta-6500, now consisting of Chief Ibanez, Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie, and agents Koslov and Koslova, therefore began exploration of the new environment.

<Transcript begins.>

<Delta-6500 are moving through the gulch. The vegetation is thick, but they are able to make slow progress toward the beach. The exterior of the Facility behind them is still pristine, but there is a pile of rotting plant material at the base of its walls, suggesting overgrowth which fell and decayed when SCP-6500-SWORD called the Facility back to baseline reality. There is a rut in the ground, suggesting frequent traffic between beach and Facility at some point in the past, but this too is thickly overgrown. The sky is a yellowish green. There are no clouds.>

Dr. Okorie: Do you remember anything yet?

<Chief Ibanez shrugs noncommittally. Her shoulders are tense.>

Dr. Astrauskas: She's been out two hours, and she never did much here the first time around. She probably remembers everything.

<Agent Koslova draws a sharp breath. The doctors stop moving; Chief Ibanez and Agent Koslov do not.>

Dr. Okorie: You hear something?

Agent Koslova: Sorry, just inhaling. Air's so god damn clean.

Dr. Astrauskas: Spores, though.

<She points up. Above the gulch, the sky is now mottled with thick blobs floating on a light breeze, darker green than the sky.>

<Agent Koslov points his flashlight up at the spores, and activates it. The spores shine brightly in the light. When he turns it off, the glow remains for some time.>

<Agent Koslova smacks him in the back of the head.>

Agent Koslova: Idiot. They'll know we're coming now.

Chief Ibanez: They already know.

<At the far end of the gulch, a young woman is standing stock still. She is dressed in typical 1990s casual clothing, careworn and repaired in places. She is staring at the party, open-mouthed.>

SCP-8273-2: Oh my god?

<Both agents have their hands on their holstered weapons. Chief Ibanez presses her hands to her thighs.>

Chief Ibanez: Identify yourself.

SCP-8273-2: Oh my god.

Chief Ibanez: Not me, you.

SCP-8273-2: What…?

Chief Ibanez: Tell me who you are, kid.

<Chief Ibanez approaches the woman. Her eyes are a dark green, matching the verdant gulley in the fading light.>

SCP-8273-2: Pilar. I… my name is Pilar. Oh my god, where did you come from? Did my dad…?

SCP-8273-2.

Chief Ibanez: We're with the SCP Foundation. I'm Chief Delfina Ibanez.

<Pilar blinks.>

Pilar: Delfina?

Chief Ibanez: Ibanez.

Pilar: Ibanez. Oh my god.

Chief Ibanez: You've said that. A few times.

Dr. Okorie: This is going to be a lot for them to process, Del.

Chief Ibanez: Then I'd rather do it in bulk. Pilar? Are there others?

Pilar: Others? What…?

<Chief Ibanez snaps her fingers rapidly.>

Chief Ibanez: The dizzy bitch routine is really starting to get on my nerves. Are you alone, or are there others?

Pilar: There's others.

<Pilar looks back to where the gulch should turn to meet the beach.>

Pilar: At the village.

Chief Ibanez: The village.

Pilar: That's right. Past the cleft, and up the beach.

Chief Ibanez: The cleft, and the beach.

Pilar: That's right. I, I can take you there. Oh my god, you're really…? And you're from… Earth?

Dr. Astrauskas: Meaning that's not where this is.

<Pilar shakes her head emphatically.>

Pilar: No. Not at all.

Chief Ibanez: What's this place called, then?

Pilar: Puerto Extirpado.

<Chief Ibanez sucks in a breath through her teeth.>

Dr. Okorie: Del?

Dr. McDoctorate: What's it mean?

Chief Ibanez: It's not exact.

Dr. McDoctorate: Contextually, then.

<Chief Ibanez grits her teeth.>

Chief Ibanez: The Severed Port.

Dr. Astrauskas: Guess that answers that.

<Chief Ibanez gestures at Pilar.>

Chief Ibanez: Well, don't just stand there gaping. Lead on.

Pilar: I can't believe you're here.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Pilar: I know who you are.

Chief Ibanez: Uh huh.

Pilar: You're supposed to be dead.

Chief Ibanez: Everyone from Zevala is supposed to be dead.

<Pilar frowns.>

Pilar: How did you get here?

Chief Ibanez: I'm only gonna explain this once. Not ten thousand times.

Pilar: There's only seventy-two of us.

Chief Ibanez: Seventy-two.

Pilar: Yeah.

Dr. Okorie: Del—

Dr. Astrauskas: Don't.

Dr. Okorie: I just—

Dr. Astrauskas: No.

<Dr. Astrauskas points at herself.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Trust me. Don't.

<Chief Ibanez walks to the edge of the water, and stares at the lights.>

Dr. Okorie: Del? Is this it?

<There is no response.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Del?

Puerto Extirpado.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

<Chief Ibanez turns, not to face them, but to approach the path up the table at the northern end of the beach.>

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, this is it.

<There is a brighter light ahead, and a thin older woman carrying a lantern appears on the well-beaten path. Pilar rushes ahead of the party to meet her.>

SCP-8273-4: Pilar! It's late! Where have you…

<The older woman notices the approaching Delta-6500.>

SCP-8273-4: …dios mio.

<Chief Ibanez grits her teeth.>

Chief Ibanez: You in charge?

SCP-8273-4: I… Where did you…

Pilar: Mother—

SCP-8273-4: I can't… I…

Pilar: Mother!

SCP-8273-4: Nobody's in charge.

Chief Ibanez: Awesome. I nominate myself, then. Gather everybody up at the hall, Ursula? If it's still the hall.

<The older woman, apparently Ursula, simply stares at her.>

<Chief Ibanez walks past her to a large brass bell mounted on a wooden swinging mount. She turns a crank, and the bell begins to swing. It peals out across the bay.>

Chief Ibanez: Alarm bells. Could have used these before.

Ursula: That's why we have them now. Are you…

<There are suddenly tears in her eyes.>

Ursula: It can't be.

<Chief Ibanez walks past her without a word.>

<Dr. Okorie approaches the older woman.>

Dr. Okorie: It's a weird day for her.

Pilar: Weirder for us.

<Chief Ibanez passes Ursula, and begins to climb the eastern slope.>

SCP-8273-4.

<Delta-6500 and the two Extirpadan women move through the eastern end of the village towards the town hall at the rough centre of its arc. The east is poorly-populated, with most well-lit houses clustered around the centre and the west. Residents in worn clothing emerge from the shacks as the party passes by, and Ursula and Pilar direct some of them to the town hall. Most already seem to know where they should go, though all regard the new arrivals with a mixture of curiosity and shock as they do. A word from Ursula silences all questions.>

<As Chief Ibanez had earlier stated, the footprints of each structure obey no rectilinear plan. All are subtly or wildly off-angle.>

<This is clearly the village of Zevala, transplanted wholesale from Caleta San Roque to Puerto Extirpado.>

<Dr. Okorie ensures that Ursula will handle the assembling of the villagers while Agents Koslova and Koslov secure the perimeter, asserting casual authority without assuming a threatening posture. Dr. Astrauskas examines the townsfolk as they enter, smiling politely and offering little information in response to their enquiries. Dr. McDoctorate sits in a back corner, sketching and writing in a notebook and muttering quietly to himself.>

Chief Ibanez: They ready?

<She does not look up from her carving.>

Dr. Okorie: The old woman—

Chief Ibanez: Ursula.

Dr. Okorie: Sure, she says everyone's here who's likely to come.

Chief Ibanez: Why would any of them not come?

Dr. Okorie: I don't know.

Chief Ibanez: And you didn't want to ask.

Dr. Okorie: I'm sorry. I'm not sure what to—

<Chief Ibanez stands, closing her knife and returning it to its pouch at her belt.>

Chief Ibanez: It's fine. Let's go.

<The door opens again, and Dr. Astrauskas slips through.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You probably don't want to hear this—

Chief Ibanez: You're right.

<Dr. Okorie closes the door behind her, and leans on it. Chief Ibanez walks up to a makeshift steel podium on casters, taller than she is, and pushes it roughly aside. It rolls to a stop just before the edge of the stage.>

Chief Ibanez: Alright, listen up. You…

<She blinks in the lamplight.>

Chief Ibanez: You…

<A voice calls out from the crowd, male.>

SCP-8273-5: Fina?

<Another responds.>

SCP-8273-6: What?

SCP-8273-5: That's Fina. That's L—

<A third voice interrupts.>

SCP-8273-7: That's impossible.

SCP-8273-6: It is Fina.

<A fourth.>

SCP-8273-8: Oh my god.

<Many of the villagers rise from their seats, and approach the stage. The crowd is already in an uproar.>

<Chief Ibanez stands her ground, but her posture is tense.>

Chief Ibanez: Back up. I don't…

SCP-8273-9: What's happened to you?

SCP-8273-7: It can't be her. She's dead.

SCP-8273-10: It looks like her.

SCP-8273-6: The eyes are wrong.

<Ursula is standing in the middle of the crowd, a deferential space around her.>

Ursula: Who else could it be? Who else would have found us?

SCP-8273-11: It could have been them.

Ursula: They wouldn't call a meeting. They'd do what they did the last time.

SCP-8273-7: They killed her. That's what they did last time.

<Chief Ibanez stamps the stage, hard. The hubbub dies down immediately, and most of the fingers retract.>

Chief Ibanez: No. They didn't. They killed all of you, and then I killed all of them.

<Silence on recording.>

Ursula: Tell us what happened.

<Chief Ibanez draws a deep breath, and fixes her eyes on a space in the far distance.>

Chief Ibanez: As far as the world knows — or the parts of the world that ever knew you existed — you don't exist anymore. The Foundation… The people I work for, they think everyone who ever lived in Zevala is dead.

SCP-8273-11: But is it you.

<Silence on recording.>

<Pilar, from the back of the room, away from the crowd, responds.>

Pilar: She says her name is Delfina Ibanez.

<The crowd erupts. There is shouting, and confusion. There is further sobbing, and there are angry exclamations.>

<Ursula's voice, nevertheless, carries.>

Ursula: I'm so sorry, child.

Chief Ibanez: I'm nobody's child.

<Her voice is barely audible.>

<As the noise subsides, the crowd now silent, Chief Ibanez returns her radio mic to its hook.>

Chief Ibanez: One at a time.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Raise your hands. I'll point.

<Almost every hand in the crowd raises.>

<Chief Ibanez looks down at the crowd, and points at one of the villagers who has already spoken.>

SCP-8273-11: Ignacio Valencia. Mr. Va—

Chief Ibanez: I know who you are. What's your question?

SCP-8273-11: Oh. Uh. Can you get us out of here?

<She stares at him.>

Chief Ibanez: You want to leave?

SCP-8273-6: Of course we want to leave.

Ursula: We've been trapped here for thirty years.

Chief Ibanez: I thought you were hiding.

SCP-8273-11: For thirty years?

Chief Ibanez: Hiding really well.

Ursula: We would have come back, if we could have.

<Chief Ibanez's voice is flat.>

Chief Ibanez: Why.

Ursula: To see if any of you were still there.

Chief Ibanez: Then why leave at all?

Ursula: There was fighting. We saw a chance, and we took it.

Chief Ibanez: That was me. I was fighting.

<Her fingers twitch, as though she is attempting not to clench her fists.>

Chief Ibanez: For you.

Ursula: I'm sorry.

Chief Ibanez: They shot my brother in the head, right in front of me. They shot Ernesto.

<Silence on recording.>

<The baby cries again, and its mother quietly shushes it. Chief Ibanez twitches, but does not look up again.>

Ursula: Fina…

Chief Ibanez: They shot Yésica. Blew her brains out of her face.

Ursula: Fina—

Chief Ibanez: Call me Chief Ibanez. Or maybe just Chief.

Ursula: Everyone in this room wants to talk to you.

<Many of the villagers in the front are touching the stage again. Several are clutching the edge, white-knuckled.>

Chief Ibanez: We'll get your statements.

Ursula: To you, F— Chief Ibanez.

Chief Ibanez: Just Chief.

<Pilar speaks again, still at the rear of the hall. She sounds frustrated.>

Pilar: Is nobody going to tell her?

<Ursula glances back, a look of anxiety on her face.>

Ursula: Pilar.

Pilar: She deserves to know.

Ursula: She does.

Pilar: She can't.

<Chief Ibanez stomps again. Ursula turns back to her.>

<Chief Ibanez bends down to look the older woman in the eye.>

Chief Ibanez: Know what?

Ursula: Your father.

<Silence on recording.>

Ursula: He's gone.

<Chief Ibanez stands again, stiffly, and looks in Pilar's direction.>

Chief Ibanez: Your mother was right. I've known that for thirty years.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-13, Exploration (Puerto Extirpado): As night fell on Puerto Extirpado, PTF Delta-6500 were offered lodging in the town hall. Dr. Okorie accepted on behalf of Chief Ibanez, who had already exited the structure through a back door. As Agents Koslova and Koslov secured the group's gear in the back rooms, under the direction of Dr. McDoctorate, Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie searched for Chief Ibanez. They found her at the edge of the village pier.

<Transcript begins.>

<The wreck of the Northern Reach is clearly visible to the right, stern protruding from the bay. The masts and rigging are gone, and the exposed surface is rapidly oxidizing. Algiform flora covers much of the remaining superstructure.>

<Chief Ibanez is sitting on the ragged end of the pier, which has been worn down by weather and age to a softer edge. She is looking down at the water.>

Chief Ibanez: I used to swim.

<Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie sit down on either side of her.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Used to?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Chief Ibanez: Used to.

Dr. Okorie: I've seen you swim.

<Chief Ibanez shakes her head.>

Chief Ibanez: Nope.

Dr. Okorie: Really?

Chief Ibanez: Been in the water a few times on a mission, usually when it's going wrong. Had to scuba dive to nab a prisoner once. But that's it.

Dr. Astrauskas: Why?

<Chief Ibanez looks up at the dark horizon.>

Chief Ibanez: Coral at the bottom of the bay used to glow. Not all one color. Whole spectrum. Sometimes like strobes on a dance floor. Sometimes it took all day to cycle; I'd poke my head down after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner, just to see the change.

Dr. Astrauskas: You went swimming after you ate? Isn't that how you drown?

<Chief Ibanez gives her a wry look.>

Chief Ibanez: You drown by trying to breathe water. I was great at holding my breath. I spent hours at the bottom of that bay.

<She snorts at Dr. Astrauskas' expression.>

Chief Ibanez: Not all at once.

Dr. Okorie: I'd almost have believed you.

Chief Ibanez: The water was always warm. Always clean. You didn't have to go down to feel it. It blew in off the sea. Great big sheets, even when the sky was clear. I used to stand on the pier and let it wash over me. Sometimes it came in with the sunset. Jesus Christ, the sunset.

<She opens her mouth as if to laugh, but the sound doesn't come.>

Dr. Okorie: Yeah?

Chief Ibanez: Something about whatever filter was around the village. Whatever was hiding it. The sunsets were brilliant.

<She leans back on the palms of her hands.>

Chief Ibanez: Looked like everything was burning a little bit, from inside. Bloom from one edge of the bay to the other. And then the wind whipped the water in, and the light caught the droplets…

Dr. Astrauskas: Like a baptism.

Chief Ibanez: That's a cliché. And I didn't know what baptisms were. But I guess the idea was the same. The day washing itself away.

<She frowns.>

Chief Ibanez: First time I had a shower at Site-34, I broke out in hives.

Dr. Okorie: When was the last time you swam?

<Chief Ibanez leans forward again. She drapes her arms over her thighs, and begins undoing her bootlaces.>

Chief Ibanez: When Yésica and I watched the village die.

<She pauses, then begins restringing the laces, tighter.>

Chief Ibanez: She loved to swim. More than I did, even. Smugglers used to drop stuff overboard, for her to find. She'd dive down to the bottom and get it, and they'd let her keep what she found.

<She closes her eyes, but continues replacing the laces from memory.>

Chief Ibanez: She practically lived in the bay.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: And that's where she died. Bled out into the water, face down.

<Dr. Astrauskas looks down at the water. Dr. Okorie is watching Chief Ibanez very closely.>

Chief Ibanez: The coral doesn't glow anymore. And the sun sets the same as it does everywhere else.

<She finishes with her bootlaces, but her eyes remain closed.>

Chief Ibanez: The last time I touched that water, I was falling out of a helicopter. Elizabeth Crocker pushed me out. I lost consciousness, and I washed up on the shore. That's where they found me.

Dr. Okorie: The Foundation.

Chief Ibanez: I was in that water when what was left of my world disappeared. Unconscious. And it spat me back out.

<She pulls back from the edge, and climbs to her feet.>

Chief Ibanez: So no. I don't swim.

<Transcript ends.>

Despite many attempts by the villagers to gain audience with Chief Ibanez, Delta-6500 spent the night in the town hall alone. Eventually the Extirpadans began returning to their homes, though curious onlookers continued to filter back in over the hours both before and after dawn.

At first light, Chief Ibanez gave instructions to her agents to assist the scientists if necessary, and struck off into the village on her own. She refused all conversation with the villagers.

Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie began taking a census of Puerto Extirpado, with Ursula's help, and scheduled a series of interviews to determine the state of affairs in this alternate dimension. A digest of the results is appended below.

<Excerpt begins.>

<The sun is never visible in Puerto Extirpado except as a faint circular lightening in the sky's undifferentiated off-green haze.>

<The farms grow squat green crops resembling squash and cabbage. Two young women in denim overalls faded almost white, with copious patching, are idly hoeing the rows and chatting in low tones.>

Dr. Okorie: Life on Mars.

Parra: Not quite so bad as you'd imagine.

Dr. Okorie: I wouldn't have imagined anything could grow. This place has a completely alien phylogeny. And if you could grow things, they shouldn't be edible.

Parra: Lucky for us we live unlikely lives, then.

Dr. Okorie: Very lucky. Where do you get the bulk of your supplies? Everyone I've seen seems pretty healthy.

Parra: Used to be, we got them out of the facility.

Dr. Okorie: How long did that last?

Parra: About a decade. There aren't very many of us, and I guess there used to be a lot of them.

<He gives Dr. Okorie a meaningful look.>

Dr. Okorie: I've been told in no uncertain terms not to talk about the nature of the facility.

Parra: So, this is going to be a one-sided conversation then.

<Dr. Okorie smiles apologetically.>

Parra: I can't really complain, assuming you're here to rescue us.

Dr. Okorie: I can tell you that's the likely plan. Do you believe me?

<Parra shrugs.>

Parra: I'm still waiting for you to give me a reason not to.

Dr. Okorie: Very fair. So, supplies from the facility. Canned goods and such?

Parra: And the hydroponics. All the Stranger was dead, but there was still soil and fertilizer and seeds.

Dr. Okorie: I didn't see any seeds.

Parra: That's because we used them all out here.

Dr. Okorie: Right. I wonder why they would have had seeds in there in the first place, though. I mean… how many kinds?

Parra: Hundreds.

<Dr. Okorie sighs.>

Dr. Okorie: Okay, there's some things I can tell you. Most of our facilities, at the Foundation, if they're big enough they have some measure of self-sufficiency. Hydroponics are pretty common. But Facility-34 doesn't look like that kind of place. There's a lot about it we don't understand, but why would they have a seed vault in there?

<She slaps her head.>

Dr. Okorie: I know why. And I can't tell you. I want to tell you. I'll ask, okay? If you want to know.

<Parra laughs. Dr. Okorie smiles sheepishly.>

Dr. Okorie: What?

Parra: I want to know everything, but I'm a patient guy. You'll find we're all pretty patient, I think. We've been waiting for a long, long time.

Dr. Okorie: I can only imagine.

Dr. Okorie: Obviously you found the hydroponics insufficient, in the end.

Parra: There was a lot of very advanced technology in there, but not advanced enough to make fruits and root veg happy about growing under false light. I know people who hate tomatoes, and I know people who hate potatoes, but I don't know anybody who would be happy to go the rest of their life without both.

Dr. Okorie: Plus the nutritional factor.

Parra: Obviously that's the biggest problem. The fish helped, but there were never very many of them, and I'm sorry to say in the leaner years that we fished them right to what seems to have been their extinction. We shall not see through their like again.

<He crosses himself.>

Parra: We had no choice but to try transplanting the soil out here, and see what our green sun would grow. And we had some of the dirt from Zevala as well.

Dr. Okorie: Which I find very interesting.

<Parra shrugs.>

Parra: Not my area. Anyway, it took a lot of trial and error to identify anything that didn't turn brown and wilt right away. The soil here isn't bad — could be richer, could be poorer — but there's something in it that didn't like our plants very much at first. The air likes them better. The spores are like a kind of fertilizer, don't ask me how that works. We scratched out a living eventually, as you can tell from all this—

<Parra gestures at the farms.>

Parra: —and the fact that we haven't all starved yet.

Dr. Okorie: Hmm.

Parra: What?

Dr. Okorie: Let me just…

<They reach the opposite crossroads, and Dr. Okorie opens her reagents pouch.>

Dr. Okorie: …take a look, here.

<She sprinkles vim harenae on the soil at the far end of one of the farm plots, fans out the fingers of her right hand, and points at the little red pile. The grains vibrate, and burrow down into the earth.>

<Parra takes a step back in alarm.>

Parra: What are you doing?

<Dr. Okorie closes her eyes and makes slight side to side motions with her hands, as though sifting through sand. After a moment, she smiles.>

Dr. Okorie: Wow. Did you know there's peat deposits under your farm?

Parra: There's plenty of peat in the bog. What are you doing?

Dr. Okorie: It's much more fertile down there. Very fertile. I wonder if maybe there's something in the air that leaches all the nutrients out of the soil? Maybe the air is chlorophyll. Maybe the air is a living thing.

<She opens her eyes, and rotates her wrist so that her palm now faces upward. The vim harenae rises to the top of the soil again.>

Parra: What were you doing? With your hands?

Dr. Okorie: This.

<Dr. Okorie points at the vim harenae, and guides it through the air back into her reagents pouch. She laces it up as Parra stares at her in shock.>

Parra: What in the world.

Dr. Okorie: Yeah. Bet you wish you had this when you were farming.

<There is a faint rumbling beneath the earth. The farmers take wider stances, and look warily at Dr. Okorie.>

Dr. Okorie: What was that?

<Parra looks troubled. He stands more gingerly, as though worried the earth might shake again.>

Parra: It happens. Time to time. Sometimes even the mountains move.

Dr. Okorie: Move how?

Parra: Shift back and forth. We can hear the rocks falling down. There's definitely something going on down there, underground, and not everyone is convinced that it's tectonic.

Dr. Okorie: Something alive, you mean.

Parra: Could be.

Dr. Okorie: What about smaller predators? Birds, things like that.

Parra: Birds?

<He snorts.>

Parra: But let me answer what you're really asking: so far as we've been able to tell, there is nothing left on this Earth, if an Earth it really is, which covers itself in edible meat.

<He winces.>

Parra: Well, of course. Almost nothing.

<Excerpt ends.>

<Excerpt begins.>

<Dr. Astrauskas is sitting at the kitchen table in the Pelaez household. The kitchen is cluttered with bric-a-brac, but scrubbed clean; there is green residue on the outsides of the windows, but none visible indoors. Pilar Pelaez is washing breakfast dishes.>

Dr. Astrauskas: So, this is where you were born?

Pilar: Yep.

Dr. Astrauskas: What did they tell you about how the village ended up here?

<Pilar shrugs.>

Pilar: A lot, I think.

Dr. Astrauskas: But not everything?

<Pilar smiles.>

Pilar: Not everything. That, I know.

Dr. Astrauskas: Anything about the facility? How it works, where it came from?

Pilar: Just vague stuff. Enough to understand what it is, not enough to tell you anything interesting.

Dr. Astrauskas: How about before? Did they tell you anything about the history of the village, back in baseline?

Pilar: Baseline?

Dr. Astrauskas: Earth, you called it.

<Pilar shrugs again.>

Pilar: Lots about some stuff, nothing about some other stuff. You can whistle through the holes when they talk. What are you interested in?

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm interested to know how Zevala stayed hidden for so long.

Pilar: Same way we stay hidden now. You must have noticed how calm it is here.

Dr. Astrauskas: So there's some kind of… field, maybe, hiding the village from the outside? Like back in baseline?

Pilar: No. It's not the village. It's us.

<She drapes her washcloth over the neck of the sink, and turns to lean against the counter.>

Pilar: You heard what this place is called.

Dr. Astrauskas: Puerto Extirpado. The Severed Port.

Pilar: You think that means the port was severed.

Dr. Astrauskas: It doesn't?

<Pilar shakes her head.>

Dr. Astrauskas: By elimination I would guess that means it's the port of The Severed.

<Pilar nods.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Meaning all of you. Descendants of the Prophets of the Severed Halls of Aph.

<Pilar frowns.>

Pilar: Never heard anything about that. Maybe you can tell me later.

Dr. Astrauskas: Maybe Chief Ibanez will.

Pilar: I didn't get the feeling she likes me very much.

Dr. Astrauskas: She has good reasons to be distant right now. I think you have a lot in common, though. You'll see.

<Pilar shrugs a third time, then turns back to resume the dishes.>

Dr. Astrauskas: So, you were implying a connection between your people being The Severed and the environment not encroaching on you. And Zevala being protected.

Pilar: Yeah.

Dr. Astrauskas: What are your people severed from, Pilar?

<Pilar hangs up the washcloth again, and takes a towel off a rack on the lower cabinet.>

Pilar: Everybody.

Dr. Astrauskas: In what way?

Pilar: In every way.

<She puts her hands on the edge of the sink, and stares at the water.>

Pilar: I've only heard the story once. They don't like to talk about it. But we were severed for our safety.

Dr. Astrauskas: Cut off from the collective, then? From the human race?

<Pilar shrugs.>

Pilar: I guess so. I know they were able to reverse it, some sort of ritual. They did it once.

Dr. Astrauskas: Why?

Pilar: You'll have to ask my mother.

<She drums her fingers on the inside of the sink basin, then suddenly stops.>

Pilar: Why are you staring at me like that?

Dr. Astrauskas: You can tell?

Pilar: We're real good at telling when something is watching us. It's an outsider thing. Well?

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm reading your aura.

<Pilar turns again.>

Pilar: What does that mean?

Dr. Astrauskas: I'm a thaumaturge. I have magic powers.

<Pilar laughs. Dr. Astrauskas laughs with her.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I can see what mood you're in, how healthy you are. Where you're from, if I have a point of comparison. And a few other things, sometimes.

Pilar: What sort of other things? I'm only humouring you, by the way.

<Dr. Astrauskas gestures, wiggling her fingers.>

Dr. Astrauskas: The breaks in your Hume spirals. The little tendrils going out of you, in every direction. You all have them. Stopping just short of each other. Reaching, but never touching.

<Pilar's brow furrows, and she reaches up to clutch her arms to her chest. She is still holding the towel.>

Pilar: That's not very funny.

Dr. Astrauskas: No. But it's very interesting.

<Excerpt ends.>

<Excerpt begins.>

<Dr. McDoctorate and Ursula are standing on a narrow metal platform at the top of the windmill tower, beside the largest grain silo. He is scanning the horizon; the tall and thickly-leaved trees of the bay stretch on over the cliffs and into the far distance, where a strange haze occludes the neighbouring territories.>

Dr. McDoctorate: This is all very interesting.

Ursula: We've lived interesting lives.

Dr. McDoctorate: Have you? I don't see any evidence of that.

<Ursula frowns.>

Ursula: Then what did you mean?

Dr. McDoctorate: It's a very unusual biome. The spores grow thick and luminous at night. The sun illuminates everything, but it's behind a green screen. Things grow and the air is warm, gravity's the same as on Earth, and the cliffs are like a pre-erosion version of where Zevala was situated back home. It's interesting that this place exists, it's interesting we were able to access it, it's interesting that you've all survived, and I hear there's even more interesting things nearby that nobody bothers with. But as far as I can tell, the landscape isn't very different from the way it was back in baseline. Only… well, emptier.

<Ursula nods, and wrings the handrail.>

Ursula: You're not wrong. We've mostly been hanging on. It was a blow when the Facility would only make one trip. It was worse when it disappeared entirely.

Dr. McDoctorate: At least that was only a problem for maybe a week.

Ursula: More like a month.

Dr. McDoctorate: What?

Ursula: It was gone for about a month. Maybe our days are different from yours.

Dr. McDoctorate: I don't think so. The circadian cycle seems pretty much the same. That's very odd. Is it possible the Facility needs to anchor itself, and drifts away?

Ursula: You tell me. You're the scientist.

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, I only wondered if your people had more experience with it. There's some very interesting records in there. It seems like you've been connected to the Facility for a very long time.

<She nods.>

Ursula: My husband showed me the logs. He was the last Director, though of course that was just a ceremonial title by the end. Handed down through the family.

Dr. McDoctorate: You weren't in communication with the Foundation.

Ursula: No. We knew about it. We knew what the old logs told us about where it came from, what our part was in making it happen. But it wasn't our problem, in the end.

Dr. McDoctorate: Why do you say that? How could a cycle of worlds ending not be everyone's problem?

Ursula: Zevala was a retreat. I mean that in every sense of the word. Our people were tired. Tired of struggling.

Dr. McDoctorate: You mean the Prophets.

<Ursula gives him an appraising look.>

Ursula: I'm surprised you know about them. You must have spoken to the others.

Dr. McDoctorate: Not personally, but yes. We're in communication with Aph.

Ursula: Lucky you.

<In the far distance, the trees sway. There is no wind.>

Ursula: My ancestors didn't found Zevala as an act of surrender. They believed they could do something about what was going to happen. They tried very hard. It didn't work.

Dr. McDoctorate: So eventually you stopped trying.

Ursula: Yes. We hunkered down, and imagined ourselves safe.

<She laughs harshly.>

Ursula: Like a cat with its head in a paper bag. Oh.

<She smiles.>

Ursula: I miss cats.

Dr. McDoctorate: I have to say, hunkering down doesn't sound like the sort of thing that would keep your village hidden as well as it was, for as long as it was.

Ursula: You're right. It was magic.

<She makes eye contact. He stares back at her.>

Ursula: I thought that might faze you.

Dr. McDoctorate: I've been to the most magical places in the multiverse. At a run.

Ursula: Well. This won't sound like much to you, then. But suffice to say we have a means of making ourselves scarce, so scarce that if we were standing in the middle of that Facility, and you threw the switch, it would still leave us behind. Something in our blood that lets us reach out, or reach inside instead.

Dr. McDoctorate: Do you still know how to do it?

Ursula: Of course. It's the only way we were able to come here in the first place.

Dr. McDoctorate: At which point I assume you… severed, yourselves again?

<She nods.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I know the TLP targets people—

Ursula: The what?

Dr. McDoctorate: The Trans-Liminal Propulser. The machine that makes everything move.

Ursula: Okay.

Dr. McDoctorate: I know it targets people, but how did you get your entire village over here? All the structures and such. Even the ruins.

Ursula: That's my husband's area, I'm afraid. I do know it has something to do with the grainy soil beneath our buildings. We never broke ground without spreading a layer of the stuff as a foundation.

<She winces.>

Ursula: I wish there was another word for that.

Dr. McDoctorate: You think that's bad? Try to think of a second word meaning 'thing that stands in for another thing'.

<Ursula blinks, then laughs.>

Dr. McDoctorate: The soil can't be all of it, though. I can see how some of the systems I didn't understand might target that…

<He snaps his fingers.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Aphian. That soil was mixed with Aphian sand. Udo detected it when we were examining the bay. That makes sense. Your ancestors probably brought it over from Aph itself, when they were exiled. It'll have some sort of trans-dimensional residue the TLP can pick up on. Hume declension, most likely.

<Ursula shrugs.>

Dr. McDoctorate: But yeah, the Insurgency gun emplacements? The Northern Reach? How does the TLP target those, and bring them over?

Ursula: Something to do with making things uneven, but not too uneven. You must have seen the crazy angles we build our walls at. The town architect used to have a little manual she used to determine everything.

Dr. McDoctorate: I'd like to speak with her.

Ursula: Can any of your magicians do a séance?

<He frowns.>

Dr. McDoctorate: None of the ones we brought with us. Anyway, I guess that mostly explains it. The Insurgency's additions were hastily-constructed, and they're loopy buggers at the best of times. Caught in your net. I understand the admonition against making things too uneven, though, because otherwise you'd end up sucking up the trees and grass and probably even the water. Sifting the village from the nature. I might have designed something similar.

Ursula: Ah, now I understand the company you keep.

Dr. McDoctorate: Hmm?

Ursula: You're a mad scientist.

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm a mad polymath. My interests are wide-ranging. In fact, right now there's something else in particular I'm very interested in. It might sound strange.

Ursula: That's what strangers are for. We forgot that, to our misfortune.

Dr. McDoctorate: If one were to perform a mighty act in this place, something incredible, praiseworthy, something that would really change the world to a measurable extent, what would that be?

<She turns to stare at him.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I don't need an answer right away. Not until I've finished some tests. But keep it in mind, okay?

Ursula: Okay.

Dr. McDoctorate: Ah…

Ursula: Yes?

Dr. McDoctorate: It just occurred to me to ask. If the only living creatures the TLP targets are humans — that's correct, right?

Ursula: Yes.

Dr. McDoctorate: —and it otherwise targets irregular shapes which aren't alive…

Ursula: Yes?

<She waits for a moment, then suddenly realizes what he is getting at.>

Ursula: Oh. Well, yes. They came too.

<She points at the far side of the bay.>

Dr. McDoctorate: And the Insurgents?

<Wordlessly, she points down at the farms.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Ah. Aha. Very… pragmatic.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. McDoctorate: What did you mean when you said that Chief Ibanez's father was gone?

Ursula: Just that.

Dr. McDoctorate: Gone dead?

Ursula: I wasn't sure.

Dr. McDoctorate: But you are now.

Ursula: Yes.

Dr. McDoctorate: Why?

Ursula: Because Fina didn't know what I meant.

Dr. McDoctorate: I don't understand.

Ursula: I thought she might have seen him.

Dr. McDoctorate: How?

<He makes a small exclamation of understanding.>

Dr. McDoctorate: The Facility? You thought maybe he was the one who took it, when it disappeared.

<Ursula nods.>

Dr. McDoctorate: So you're saying he's disappeared too, then. He might still be alive somewhere.

Ursula: No.

Dr. McDoctorate: Why not?

<Ursula looks down, to where Chief Ibanez and a smaller figure are heading up the table to the west.>

Ursula: Because if he was, that somewhere would be here.

<Excerpt ends.>

The following is a transcript of Chief Ibanez's investigation of her family home and other locations in Puerto Extirpado during the period covered above.

<Transcript begins.>

<Chief Ibanez explores each of the three rooms, which are only differentiated by the corrugated steel walls separating them. She appears to be searching for something, but does not appear to find it.>

SCP-8273-3: What are you doing in here?

Chief Ibanez: Nothing. Why are you sneaking back there?

SCP-8273-3: I wasn't sneaking. But I snuck up on you.

Chief Ibanez: I knew you were there.

SCP-8273-3: Why didn't you say anything?

<Chief Ibanez turns to see a scrawny girl of perhaps ten years of age, wearing shredded blue jeans, leather boots, and a worn adult-size hooded sweater which functions as a dress given her height.>

Chief Ibanez: Maybe I wanted to see what you'd do if you got the drop on me.

<SCP-8273-3 laughs.>

SCP-8273-3: You've got a sword. I've just got sticks.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah? What do you need sticks for?

SCP-8273-3: To fight the dragons.

Chief Ibanez: Now you have my attention.

<She leans on the doorframe. SCP-8273-3 is standing in the middle of the largest room in the shack.>

Chief Ibanez: What's your name, kid?

SCP-8273-3: Saray.

Chief Ibanez: Pelaez, I'm guessing.

Saray: How'd you know?

Chief Ibanez: Got your mom's cheeks.

Saray: What's your name?

Chief Ibanez: F—

<She clears her throat.>

Chief Ibanez: Delfina.

Saray: That's pretty. This place is boring.

Chief Ibanez: You mean the house, or the village?

Saray: Yeah.

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Chief Ibanez: Then why don't you get out of here?

Saray: Why don't you?

<Chief Ibanez sighs.>

Saray: Are you hiding from someone?

Chief Ibanez: Not very well, apparently. Are you?

Saray: Nope.

Chief Ibanez: Any chance I can get you to hide from me, then?

Saray: Nope.

Chief Ibanez: Didn't think so.

<She walks past Saray to stand on the doorstep of the shack, looking out across the bay.>

Chief Ibanez: What happened to the big silo?

<Saray moves to stand beside her.>

Saray: What big silo? The one over there, where my mom is?

<She points to the grain silo. Dr. McDoctorate and Ursula can be seen climbing the windmill tower.>

<Chief Ibanez points across the bay.>

Chief Ibanez: No, on the other side, up the rise. There used to be a silo…

Saray: Oh! I think I know the one you mean. They took it apart a long time ago, before I was born.

Chief Ibanez: What did they do with it?

<Saray shrugs.>

Saray: Patched up the old houses, I guess. They say they were pretty beat up.

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Chief Ibanez: That's true. What's there now?

Saray: Let's go see.

<She reaches out to take Chief Ibanez's hand.>

Chief Ibanez: I like to keep my hands free.

Saray: Suit yourself.

<She skips down the path to the main road, stopping briefly to pick up a pitted green stick from the ground, taking a few practice swings.>

<Chief Ibanez watches her go.>

<She sighs.>

<She follows.>

Chief Ibanez: Oh.

<There are several hundred of them.>

Saray: Yeah.

<Chief Ibanez walks the gravel path between the markers. She reads the inscriptions, one after another.>

Saray: You know anybody?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Saray: Sorry.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

<She glances from marker to marker, but does not linger in front of any. The names Eloy, Aurelio, Ernesto, Jorge and Teresa are visible.>

Chief Ibanez: I wonder if they're really down there.

Saray: What do you mean?

<Chief Ibanez looks away from the markers, then immediately looks back and resumes reading. Saray walks beside her as she speaks.>

Chief Ibanez: They died in Zevala. There wasn't even enough of Eloy left to bury. And I doubt they were hauling corpses while they were hauling a—

<She looks down at the child, who looks up at her with wide eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: …while they were running for the Facility. Sorry.

<Saray shrugs.>

Saray: It doesn't matter.

Chief Ibanez: What doesn't matter?

Saray: Whether they're really buried there.

Chief Ibanez: Why not?

Saray: You don't have to be somewhere to… be somewhere. You know?

Chief Ibanez: No.

Saray: Okay.

<Chief Ibanez resumes scanning the markers. She reaches the back row, where the land starts to rise again to meet the bayside cliff, before she stops.>

Saray: What's wrong?

<Chief Ibanez does not respond.>

Saray: Delfina?

<Chief Ibanez looks away.>

Chief Ibanez: Nothing. It's fine.

<Saray approaches the marker Chief Ibanez was inspecting, and mouths the name to herself. She frowns, places a hand on the marker, and walks around behind it aimlessly.>

<Chief Ibanez notices the next marker, and pauses.>

Puerto Extirpado, graveyard, and SCP-8273-3.

Saray: What?

Chief Ibanez: Let's go.

Saray: But—

Chief Ibanez: I'm going.

<She heads for the path.>

Saray: It was for you?

<Chief Ibanez stops at the edge of the fence, and does not look back or respond.>

Saray: Guess they should pull it up.

Chief Ibanez: It's fine where it is.

Saray: But you're not—

Chief Ibanez: It's fine where it is.

<She leaves the graveyard. Saray runs after her, catching up easily.>

Saray: Are you an adult?

<Chief Ibanez glares at her.>

Saray: How come you're not much taller than me?

Chief Ibanez: Dunno.

Saray: Is the rest of your family…?

Chief Ibanez: No, just me. Drew the short straw, I guess.

<Saray laughs.>

Saray: Want to see my fort?

Chief Ibanez: You've got a fort?

Saray: Yep.

Chief Ibanez: Sure. Show me.

<Chief Ibanez remains outside, hands on her hips.>

Chief Ibanez: I was expecting a tree fort.

<Saray's face appears between the vines and the concrete.>

Saray: Mom says we can't climb the trees.

Chief Ibanez: Why not?

Saray: Because the trees eat people.

Chief Ibanez: Huh.

Saray: Do they eat people where you're from?

Chief Ibanez: No. I don't think so, anyway. Then again, there's probably…

<She considers.>

Chief Ibanez: No.

Saray: Do you know how to climb?

<Chief Ibanez sits cross-legged in the fort. Saray follows suit.>

Chief Ibanez: Sure. I lived in a tree for a while.

Saray: Really? Why?

Chief Ibanez: I was spying on some people.

Saray: Like a game?

Chief Ibanez: No.

Saray: Were they bad people?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

<Chief Ibanez reaches up to test the elasticity of the vine ceiling, and grunts.>

Chief Ibanez: This is a pretty cool fort.

Saray: Right? Mom says it used to be a battery, but I can't see any plugs.

Chief Ibanez: Weird.

Saray: All the lights and stuff comes from batteries. I've seen them. They're shiny and small.

Chief Ibanez: Uh huh.

Saray: You know something you're not saying.

Chief Ibanez: How'd you figure that?

Saray: You're like mom and dad. You're talking the way they talk when they don't want to say anything.

Chief Ibanez: Mmm.

Saray: Just like that.

Chief Ibanez: You want to know something about your fort, Saray?

Saray: Sure.

<Chief Ibanez lifts the vines and points.>

Chief Ibanez: One time, I ran up that road, real fast, about where that rock is now, and I jumped, and it took me all the way from there to all the way up here. And there was a man up here, turning a big, big gun. He was going to shoot down some planes up in the sky.

Saray: What's a plane?

<Chief Ibanez pauses.>

Chief Ibanez: Like a big metal bird you can ride.

Saray: There's birds you can ride around here. But mom says I can't.

Chief Ibanez: Let me guess. They eat people?

Saray: Yeah. What did you do about the man?

Chief Ibanez: His gun had a little hole at the bottom, for putting in the big bullets. It had a thick iron door on it. I put his head in the hole, and then I shut the door.

Saray: All the way?

Chief Ibanez: Close enough.

Saray: Wow.

Chief Ibanez: That doesn't freak you out?

Saray: I guess he deserved it.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, he did.

Saray: So that's alright then.

<Saray picks up a carved wooden model of a cargo ship, and sails it lazily through the air.>

<She glances at Chief Ibanez, and frowns.>

Saray: What's wrong?

Chief Ibanez: Nothing's wrong.

Saray: You're doing it again. Not talking.

Chief Ibanez: I don't like to talk.

<Chief Ibanez exhales loudly. Saray jumps.>

Chief Ibanez: Okay, actually. Maybe you're freaking me out a little bit, kid.

Saray: Why?

Chief Ibanez: You look like you weigh about twenty pounds soaking wet, and you didn't even blink when I told you I stuck a guy's head in the breech of a mortar in the middle of your fort one time. Tough as nails, aren't you?

<Saray shrugs.>

Saray: We have to be tough around here. It's a tough place.

<She flexes the muscles of her right arm — entirely obscured beneath the thick sweater — and growls menacingly.>

<Chief Ibanez looks away.>

Saray: What?

Chief Ibanez: You remind me of somebody.

Saray: You too.

<They sit in silence for a while. Chief Ibanez eventually looks back at Saray, and then at the toy ship. It resembles the Northern Reach in many respects.>

Saray: Are you going to move in with us?

<Chief Ibanez sounds surprised.>

Chief Ibanez: No. I've got a job to do.

Saray: That's what dad said. Before he left.

Chief Ibanez: Left?

Saray: He went to the winter.

Chief Ibanez: You mean he died.

Saray: No, I told you. He went to the winter.

Chief Ibanez: Winter isn't a place. You can't just go to winter.

Saray: We can. You'll see.

Chief Ibanez: How do you figure that?

Saray: You're a hero. He's probably in trouble. So you're gonna go find him.

<Chief Ibanez laughs.>

Saray: What?

Chief Ibanez: I was going to say I'm not a hero, but I've still got this f—

<Saray grins.>

Chief Ibanez: —this thing strapped to my back.

Saray: Can I see it?

Chief Ibanez: If I say 'yes', you will understand that I do not mean you can touch it?

Saray: Sure.

Chief Ibanez: Okay.

<She leans forward, to avoid damaging the vine ceiling, and draws SCP-6500-SWORD. It is glimmering faintly.>

Saray: Whoa. Is it magic?

Chief Ibanez: Matter of fact it is.

Saray: It glows.

Chief Ibanez: It does.

Saray: Like the flowers.

<Chief Ibanez glances around the blade at her.>

Chief Ibanez: You've got those here too?

Saray: My dad used to bring some home.

Chief Ibanez: From the Facility?

Saray: The what?

Chief Ibanez: The big ugly building.

Saray: Oh. No. I don't think so?

Chief Ibanez: They only grow in the cold.

Saray: That's what he said. But they don't grow very well. They're too small, and the wrong color, he said. He didn't know why.

Chief Ibanez: He tried to grow them here?

Saray: That's what he said.

Chief Ibanez: Hmm.

Saray: I don't even know what he wants them for. He used to give them to me and my sister.

Chief Ibanez: What for?

Saray: To put in our hair.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Who do I remind you of?

Saray: Who do I remind you of?

<Transcript ends.>

Shortly after the noonday meals, Chief Ibanez confronted Ursula Pelaez in the latter's home. A transcript of their conversation is appended below.

<Transcript begins.>

<Ursula is putting away the last of the dishes as Chief Ibanez storms in. Her finger is raised before she even enters the room.>

Chief Ibanez: You. And my dad.

<Ursula closes the upper cabinet, though there are still dishes in the sink, and sits down at the kitchen table. She gestures for Chief Ibanez to be seated as well, but the latter remains standing.>

Ursula: Who told you?

Chief Ibanez: Nobody.

<She takes a deep breath, and puffs out her cheeks before swallowing it again.>

Chief Ibanez: Saray and Pilar?

Ursula: That's right.

Chief Ibanez: Why didn't you tell me?

Ursula: It's already a lot for you to process.

Chief Ibanez reaches to pull out a chair. Her fingers wrap around the top, then tighten, and her muscles constrict, and she nearly hurls it against the wall instead. She keeps her grip and stands her ground as she responds.>

Chief Ibanez: What's to process? The fact that you all fucked off and left me to die in a burning harbour? The fact that I thought you were all dead for thirty years?

Ursula: We didn't know it was you.

Chief Ibanez: Would it have made a difference?

Ursula: Of course it would have. We tried not to leave anyone behind. We searched all the prisons while the bombs were falling. We gathered everyone we could.

Chief Ibanez: Not me.

Ursula: I practically had to drag your father through the doors. He kept saying you were still out there. And his sons.

Chief Ibanez: I was still out there. His sons, not so much.

Ursula: I can't begin into imagine what you saw. What you had to do.

Chief Ibanez: That's too bad, because I'm not in a mood to tell you. Where's winter?

Ursula: What?

Chief Ibanez: Saray says her dad went to winter. Where's that?

<Ursula considers Chief Ibanez closely, lips pursed.>

Chief Ibanez: It's not a fucking metaphor for death, before you try that. You already misled me.

Ursula: I told you he was gone. He is gone.

Chief Ibanez: Gone where.

Ursula: Somewhere that isn't safe. A long time ago.

Chief Ibanez: Specify.

Ursula: About a month. I wasn't misleading you, Delfina. He really is gone.

Chief Ibanez: Did anybody tell you what I'm Chief of?

<Ursula nods.>

Chief Ibanez: This is the only lead left that's worth pursuing. And when there's only one thing to be done, I'm gonna be the one doing it.

Ursula: Leave it alone. It would be a mistake to try and find him. If he hasn't come back yet, he's not going to.

Chief Ibanez: I wasn't intending on asking his opinion.

Ursula: Your people have enough to be doing right here, right now. Getting that machine ready for another trip. Getting to know your—

Chief Ibanez: My people are staying. This is a one-woman job.

Ursula: Going alone is dangerous.

<Chief Ibanez reaches over her shoulder to tap the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD.>

Chief Ibanez: Now spill.

Pilar: I'm going with you.

<She steps forward. She had been standing past the doorway, obscured by the angle of the sun through the windows.>

<Chief Ibanez glances over her shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: I remember this. Sheet metal walls don't block sound for shit.

Ursula: You're not going.

<Pilar approaches the table, and stands between Chief Ibanez and Ursula.>

Pilar: You said it yourself. She can't go alone.

Ursula: She can bring her wizard friends.

Chief Ibanez: No, they need to stay here. You were right, they've got their work and I've got mine. All of mine involves fucking shit up. I'm the only extraneous one when there's nothing needs hunting or killing.

Pilar: Take me, please.

Ursula: This is ridiculous. We don't even know where he is.

Pilar: I do.

<Ursula starts.>

Ursula: You do not.

Pilar: I do.

Ursula: How?

Pilar: I saw him go.

<Ursula stares at her, momentarily speechless.>

Ursula: And you didn't tell me.

Pilar: He didn't want me to.

Chief Ibanez: You're sure you can find it? Places change in a long time.

Pilar: Not this place.

Ursula: Pilar, no.

Pilar: She'll protect me.

Chief Ibanez: No promises.

<Pilar places a hand on Chief Ibanez's shoulder. The latter stiffens.>

Pilar: You'll protect me.

Chief Ibanez: What makes you so sure?

Pilar: I talked with your friends. They told me it's what you do.

<Transcript ends.>

As Pilar prepared for the journey with her mother's help, Chief Ibanez returned to Facility-34 to collect her own supplies. Dr. McDoctorate met her at the airlock.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. McDoctorate is already walking back into the Facility, and gesturing at Chief Ibanez to follow him. She does.>

Chief Ibanez: What's in your pants?

Dr. McDoctorate: Eh?

Chief Ibanez: Why you so antsy?

Dr. McDoctorate: We've got a new problem.

Chief Ibanez: I was just telling someone there's nothing left here for me to do. You're not going to make a liar out of me, are you?

Dr. McDoctorate: It's more complicated than that. I've been dealing with a bit of an issue with the TLP.

Chief Ibanez: What kind of an issue? And why didn't you tell me sooner?

Dr. McDoctorate: Because you went walkabout, and anyway there's no engineering component to what went wrong. I made discreet enquiries with the locals, and they don't know anything that can help us with it.

Chief Ibanez: With what, exactly? I've got places to be.

Dr. McDoctorate: There might be less urgency than you think.

Dr. McDoctorate: This.

Chief Ibanez: What is it? 'RANUN'… 'RANUNCLE'…

Dr. McDoctorate: 'RANUNCULACEAEIC ANGIOSPERMA QUOTIENT'. It's one of the tracking metrics the system uses to determine the status of its components. You'll remember it's the only one I thought seemed kind of redundant. It basically just checks whether there's plants in the hopper.

Chief Ibanez: Uh huh. And you know better now?

Dr. McDoctorate: Yes. Think of it as the pilot light.

<Chief Ibanez looks at the indicator again. The readout says 'N/A'.>

Chief Ibanez: It's… out?

Dr. McDoctorate: It is out.

Chief Ibanez: Why is it out?

Dr. McDoctorate: Because it doesn't have enough fuel.

<Chief Ibanez exclaims noisily.>

Chief Ibanez: What? We've got a whole warehouse of it.

<Dr. McDoctorate makes hushing motions, and looks from side to side. Neither of his technicians is visible.>

Dr. McDoctorate: They brought the problem to me, but they don't grok the meaning yet. It's heady. Time dilation in here isn't too bad, we only get an extra hour or two per day compared to outside—

Chief Ibanez: I didn't know that was still happening, either.

Dr. McDoctorate: Yeah, well, you were playing fort, so.

Chief Ibanez: Smartass. Give me the bad news.

Dr. McDoctorate: I did a test firing. The system has a mechanism for resettling the multiversal foundations, basically going for a spin without the spin, making sure everything's solid on the ground. But it's a no-go. The mechanism won't catch. It won't turn over.

Chief Ibanez: Don't tell me our gas went skanky between dimensions.

Dr. McDoctorate: Skanky.

Chief Ibanez: You know what I mean.

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm going to keep doing tests, but at first blush? It looks like you need something other than Nigella cerritulus to get out of the places this place can get you into.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: That would have been really, really useful information to have had before we came here.

Dr. McDoctorate: I agree, yes.

Chief Ibanez: And it doesn't make any fucking sense, because—

<Dr. McDoctorate raises a hand to forestall her. She swats it away, but lets him continue.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Because you flew all around the timeplane on this thing, back in the day, and you didn't need to stop at any gas stations. Yeah?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, you were using the gas that was already in the tank. The plants grown hydroponically. Maybe there's something special about the growth process we don't understand.

Chief Ibanez: I know you checked for that, because you're not an idiot.

Dr. McDoctorate: I would be a bad scientist if, faced with a situation where the most likely explanation is that I did something an idiot would do, I disregarded that on the basis of not thinking myself to be one.

<Chief Ibanez stares at the indicator.>

Chief Ibanez: So, we're stuck here.

Dr. McDoctorate: We might be.

Chief Ibanez: All right, well, keep it under your abstracted identity, alright? We don't need a panic, even if these people are supposedly professionals.

Dr. McDoctorate: I've never heard my abstracted identity described as a hat before.

Chief Ibanez: In my experience, identity is something you wear.

Dr. McDoctorate: And wears on you?

Chief Ibanez: Could do.

<She turns to leave.>

<He places a hand on her shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: You value that hand?

<He releases.>

Dr. McDoctorate: It's just, there is one more thing. We've been doing seismographic studies, because of the whole moving mountains thing.

Chief Ibanez: Okay.

Dr. McDoctorate: I sent something to your PDA. I know you leave me on read, but you really ought to actually read this one before you go on your little walk.

Chief Ibanez: It's going to be a long walk, actually.

Dr. McDoctorate: Maybe not, if you don't read the thing.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Right. Noted.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-14, Rescue: The following morning, having discussed the perils of the road ahead and the best means of avoiding them, Chief Ibanez and Pilar prepared to leave Puerto Extirpado in search of Leandro Ibanez.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. Okorie kisses Chief Ibanez on the forehead.>

Dr. Okorie: Bad idea don't do this.

<Chief Ibanez pinches her. Dr. Okorie swats the top of her skull in response.>

<Dr. Astrauskas steers Dr. Okorie aside.>

Chief Ibanez: You don't both get to tell me—

<Dr. Astrauskas kisses her.>

Pilar: Oh. Okay.

<Chief Ibanez, flushed, turns away.>

Dr. Astrauskas: At least take one of those suits.

Chief Ibanez: I'm not running out of power in the middle of a swamp. Appreciate the concern.

<She points at Pilar, then jerks a thumb at the entrance.>

Chief Ibanez: Burning greenlight.

Dr. Okorie: Let me come with you, god dammit!

<Chief Ibanez responds over her shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: Do what we said. If I fuck this up, they're gonna need you.

<She notices Saray in the crowd, wide-eyed, and contorts her face.>

Chief Ibanez: I'm not used to kids.

Saray: Me either.

<Chief Ibanez attempts to say something else, then closes her mouth and simply nods. Saray nods back.>

<Chief Ibanez and Pilar head into the gully.>

Pilar: What was that about?

Chief Ibanez: Your sister's a punk.

Pilar: Tell me about it. But you know what I mean. What were you telling the witch?

Chief Ibanez: That's our word, thanks. And I was telling her she needs to protect the village if we piss anything off out here.

Pilar: But we're not going to piss anything off.

Chief Ibanez: We might.

Pilar: We plotted our route specifically to avoid—

<Chief Ibanez reaches over her shoulder and draws SCP-6500-SWORD. It is glowing, though only a little.>

Chief Ibanez: Do you know what this is?

<Pilar stares at the blade, transfixed.>

Pilar: Kind of. Not at all.

Chief Ibanez: It's a lightning rod.

<She sheathes it again, and shoulders her backpack.>

Pilar: What does that mean?

Chief Ibanez: It means that if there's anything weird out here, it's going to be attracted to us.

Pilar: So why did you bring it with you?

Chief Ibanez: Because if there's anything weird out here, it's also our best chance of getting out in one piece. Two pieces.

<They pass by a shaded copse, in the same position where Chief Ibanez's grandfather's shack once stood. There is another, lone, grave marker. They pass it by without comment.>

<Chief Ibanez jerks a thumb back at the village, now out of sight.>

Chief Ibanez: Was it always like that?

Pilar: Long as I can remember.

Chief Ibanez: How old are you?

Pilar: I don't know.

Chief Ibanez: What?

Pilar: I don't know how to explain it in a way you'll understand. Time passes differently in the World, compared to Earth. Or so they tell me.

Chief Ibanez: Do you know how soon after they came here you were born?

Pilar: Nine months by your reckoning after… a while. Maybe a year or two.

Chief Ibanez: How can you stand it here?

Pilar: Everywhere.

Chief Ibanez: What?

Pilar: This isn't here. This is everywhere. Everywhere I've ever been. Everything I've ever known. I was born and raised to stand it. Standing it is my default condition.

Chief Ibanez: Mm.

Pilar: It must have been like that for you, at some point.

Chief Ibanez: What do you mean?

Pilar: In Zevala.

Chief Ibanez: No.

Chief Ibanez: No, Zevala was perfect, and I absolutely couldn't stand it. Couldn't wait to be out of there.

Pilar: Now you're talking sense.

Chief Ibanez: This is different. This place is a dead end.

<She walks back out of the cave mouth, and starts on the steeper trail toward the lip of the cliffs perhaps fifty feet up.>

Chief Ibanez: There was something beyond my village. My version of our village.

Pilar: There's something beyond this one too. The same things. It's just a little harder to get to.

Chief Ibanez: The same things, you think?

Pilar: Don't you see it? What the World really is?

Chief Ibanez: Give me some drones and satellites, maybe. Don't see the point in speculating from the ground.

Pilar: We're practically on the roof of everything, Delfina.

Chief Ibanez: Chief Ibanez. And one of these days, let me tell you what a mountain really is.

<She snorts.>

Chief Ibanez: Maybe I should start you on 'really tall hills', actually.

Chief Ibanez: You should appreciate this place while you have it.

Pilar: Why? You don't. And you didn't, apparently.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah. That's why.

Chief Ibanez: Do they ever talk about the way things were?

Pilar: All the time.

Chief Ibanez: Really?

Pilar: Of course. You know how they are.

Chief Ibanez: I know how they were.

Pilar: Then you know they don't change much.

Chief Ibanez: I guess.

Pilar: They used to talk about you all the time.

Chief Ibanez: Used to?

Pilar: Well, they still do from time to time. It's just that they've run out of new things to say.

Chief Ibanez: I could supply a few, but it's not exactly dinnertime conversation.

<In the distance, the trees sway.>

Pilar: I'm not a replacement.

Chief Ibanez: What?

<Pilar stops walking, at the edge of the cliff. The carved path to the forest floor begins a few inches from her feet.>

Pilar: I'm not a replacement for you.

Chief Ibanez: I never said you were.

Pilar: No, but you were thinking it. You're still thinking it.

Chief Ibanez: I am not.

<Chief Ibanez walks past her. Pilar follows, then walks beside her.>

Pilar: They didn't have me so they could forget about you.

<Chief Ibanez rolls her eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: Do you know why we record these conversations? Why we're both wearing cameras? It's because we're supposed to be learning things. Interesting, important things. Not these things.

Pilar: It's cultural. Isn't that useful to you? Meeting a new culture. Learning what they're like.

Chief Ibanez: You said it yourself. These people aren't new to me.

Pilar: Then why—

Chief Ibanez: —am I asking at all? Now that, that's a good question.

Pilar: Not what I meant. Why are you talking to me, instead of my mother, or any of the others?

Chief Ibanez: Because I know them.

Pilar: And?

<They proceed down the path. It, too, is partially overgrown, but it can still be followed. It must have been cut back many times in the past.>

Chief Ibanez: You ever find a candy bar you forgot you bought? No, of course you haven't. Uh… hmm. Metaphor breakdown. You probably won't get any of my television analogies, either.

Pilar: Nobody I know drags things out this long.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, the Internet's been bad for us. Don't ask me what that means. I'll just say it straight out, then: some surprises are nice. Sometimes it's nice to forget something, so you can remember it later.

Pilar: And this isn't one of those things.

Chief Ibanez: No. This is a thing I worked very, very hard to forget, to put behind me, and I'm not happy that it's in front of me again.

Pilar: You wish they were all dead?

<Silence on recording.>

Pilar: Hold up. This isn't the direction we agreed on.

<This time Chief Ibanez is the one to stop walking. She turns to face Pilar.>

Chief Ibanez: They were all dead. They've been dead for thirty years. I've lived almost twice as long as I knew them since they died.

Pilar: Say that again?

Chief Ibanez: I was sixteen. Those people and that place? They've been bad memories to me since before you were born. The person I am right now never met any of them. The first people she met were Chaos Insurgents, and that set the tone.

Pilar: You're still who you were before. Just a little different, that's all.

Chief Ibanez: I have nothing in common with the person they remember.

Pilar: Oh yeah? How long did it take them to recognize you, again?

Chief Ibanez: I'm a fucking dwarf.

<She turns on her heel, and resumes the trek at speed. Pilar hurries to catch up.>

Pilar: Were you listening? I told you, that's the wrong way.

Chief Ibanez: Right.

<Ahead, the trees thin out. They are heading in the direction of the bog.>

Pilar: No! Wrong! It's not safe.

Chief Ibanez: I'm just checking alternate routes.

Pilar: We've been over this already!

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, well, there's a memo you didn't get.

<She scans the horizon for a moment, then nods.>

Chief Ibanez: Okay, point me the right way again.

<Pilar begins to walk back into the forest proper. Chief Ibanez grabs her arm.>

Chief Ibanez: Point me, I said. You're not leading. And keep well back.

<Pilar frowns, but does not argue.>

Pilar: Your sword is—

Chief Ibanez: I'll bet.

<There is a slight tremor. Chief Ibanez stops.>

Chief Ibanez: I hear these didn't used to be so frequent.

Pilar: You think our world is ending too?

<Chief Ibanez shoots a look over her shoulder.>

Chief Ibanez: I specifically told my people to ixnay on the orld ending way.

<Pilar blinks.>

Chief Ibanez: I told them not to tell you about that.

Pilar: They didn't. You guys just make so many cryptic statements and exchange so many meaningful looks at poignant moments, it's hard not to notice. You know we can see and hear you, right?

<Chief Ibanez laughs.>

Chief Ibanez: Well, don't worry about that right now. No, I don't think this world is ending. I think it's got more to do with the reason all the predators in this place are birds or trees or whatever.

Pilar: Trees?

Chief Ibanez: Saray said the trees eat people.

Pilar: Did she also tell you she fought a troll in the cave?

Chief Ibanez: No…

Pilar: Good, because there's no trolls in the cave, and the trees don't eat people.

Chief Ibanez: They sure act like they do.

Pilar: The waving? It's probably just the w—

<There is a violent CRACK from the earth, and the path just ahead jerks upward.>

<Chief Ibanez turns to face Pilar, and walks toward her. She raises a finger to her lips.>

<They walk back the way they came.>

<There is a much louder CRACK, and dirt falls from the sky all around them.>

<Chief Ibanez grabs Pilar by the arm, and pulls her into a run.>

<SCP-6500-SWORD is apparently glowing enough for halation to appear on both camera feeds, although it is situated well behind the lenses.>

Pilar: …what…

Chief Ibanez: Save oxygen.

<Pilar struggles for several seconds to catch her breath. Chief Ibanez waits patiently.>

Pilar: What?

<Chief Ibanez hops down from the tree.>

Pilar: What was that?

Chief Ibanez: I like to think it was a reminder not to leave mad scientists on read.

<She heads in the direction of the bog again. Pilar carefully climbs down and rushes after her.>

Pilar: Explain that explanation?

<Chief Ibanez and Pilar are standing at the treeline again. The bog has apparently not been disturbed.>

Pilar: Everyone who's ever walked into that has died.

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Chief Ibanez: You know what that means?

Pilar: Our people are careful. Too careful. They never take risks. If they die when they go in there, it means there's something in there that kills them.

Chief Ibanez: Right.

Pilar: So why is that better than getting earthquaked to death?

<Chief Ibanez does not respond. She waits.>

Pilar: What?

<Silence on recording.>

Pilar: You think… it's the same thing?

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

<Pilar sits down on the forest floor.>

Pilar: That would make it pretty… pretty big.

Chief Ibanez: Did they not teach you any swear words?

Pilar: So you think it moved off.

Chief Ibanez: We saw it move off.

Pilar: You knew it was down there? You intentionally stirred it up?

Chief Ibanez: I suspected something was down there. Only explanation for the lack of land predators in a verdant paradise. I didn't know what direction it was in. Now I do.

Pilar: And what if there's more than one?

Chief Ibanez: Don't be ridiculous. Anything that huge would have to be carnivorous.

<Chief Ibanez draws SCP-6500-SWORD.>

Chief Ibanez: There's definitely more than one.

Pilar: Why don't they go into the village?

<Chief Ibanez widens her eyes, opens her mouth and leans forward, head shaking expectantly.>

Pilar: Because…

<She draws a sharp breath.>

Pilar: …because we're severed?

Chief Ibanez: Right. And my friends aren't.

Pilar: But you are.

<Chief Ibanez ignores her.>

Chief Ibanez: Point is, unless there's lots of meat underground, these things probably eat each other. But we'll do in a pinch.

Pilar: It's probably harder to track us through a swamp.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah, it'll be an advantage for sure. As long as it's less than four feet deep.

<Pilar frowns.>

Chief Ibanez: Anything in there that catches wind is bound to follow me to wherever your dad is hiding.

Pilar: Our dad. But why? We're small fries, if it's that big. Not even morsels.

Chief Ibanez: Because of the sword.

<She brandishes SCP-6500-SWORD. It is glowing faintly from the earlier encounter.>

Chief Ibanez: It re-energizes things. Makes things happen.

Pilar: What sort of things?

Chief Ibanez: The exciting sort.

Pilar: So why did you bring it, if it's just going to make things harder?

Chief Ibanez: Because I'm the best at handling hard things. Shut up.

<Pilar looks confused.>

Chief Ibanez: Wow. We need to get your out more. Anyway, it's not the worst possible situation. If this stuff doesn't chase me out into the boonies, it might wander into the village. I'll bet it can smell Udo and Roz's magic and McDoctorate's ridiculous cologne on the wind.

Pilar: Is that his actual name? It can't be, right?

Chief Ibanez: So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to go climb a tree and be mouse-quiet for a bit — mice are… just be quiet, okay, and I'm going go scout the bog.

Pilar: How?

<Chief Ibanez sets down her backpack, and produces a small LIDAR drone and a pair of binoculars.>

Chief Ibanez: If it's safe, it's safe. If it's not, it will be before I come back to find you.

Pilar: Find me nothing. I'm coming with.

Chief Ibanez: Like hell you are. I need someone to catch me on camera.

Pilar: Doing what?

Chief Ibanez: Whatever it takes.

Pilar: What's wrong with your own camera?

<Chief Ibanez grins.>

Chief Ibanez: It's probably going to be moving around a lot.

<She moves through the water for approximately ten minutes, never submerged below the top of her waterproof boots. She holds SCP-6500-SWORD in front of her, and its soft glow does not ebb.>

<There is a sudden eruption of water and soil.>

<Chief Ibanez subsequently provided additional information regarding the events described below and her actions during them, which have been interpolated where appropriate.>

<The water of the bog has been broken by a tremendous spined form stretching from Chief Ibanez's position to at least several hundred metres away. It begins thrashing, and algae and mud fill the air. Chief Ibanez leaps from her starting position to the nearest bedrock protrusion, and an enormous club-shaped tail pulverizes the space she has just been occupying. She raises SCP-6500-SWORD and shouts: "¡En guardia!">.Audible on recording only as a distant, incoherent shriek.

<A massive forelimb emerges from the bog, with talons significantly larger than Chief Ibanez, and they rake the air. Chief Ibanez swings SCP-6500-SWORD, colliding with the longest talon and shattering it with a tremendous burst of air which entirely denudes Pilar's trees of leaves two seconds later. Chief Ibanez is hurled away, landing in the water on her back. She still has hold of SCP-6500-SWORD. She is underwater for only an instant, spluttering back to the surface and swimming for the nearest surviving crop of bedrock. She spits up the last of the water and yells: "Fuck this!">.Inaudible; recording is dominated by a deep bestial groan.

<Chief Ibanez states, at this point: "Finally.">.Inaudible; Pilar is screaming.

<Chief Ibanez charges the creature, still roaring.>

<A shower of water from the altercation belatedly falls onto Pilar, drenching her.>

Chief Ibanez engaged in combat, representative frame.

Chief Ibanez: Tell me you got some of that.

<Pilar screams.>

Chief Ibanez: Hahaha.

Pilar: How.

<Chief Ibanez shrugs, and climbs to her feet.>

Chief Ibanez: I want to say the sword did it.

<SCP-6500-SWORD, having been employed multiple times in the altercation, now glows only dimly.>

Pilar: But?

Chief Ibanez: Talk to Place. I'm all out of hot air.

<She reaches down to help Pilar up, an operation made slightly awkward by the foot in difference between their heights. The taller woman stands, shakily, and expels a loud sigh.>

Pilar: I don't know what to say.

Chief Ibanez: Best possible result.

<She shoulders her gear, and begins the descent down the ruined shoreline to the bog.>

Pilar: Did you kill it?

Chief Ibanez: No.

Pilar: What if it comes back?

Chief Ibanez: I'll have caught my breath, assuming you don't make me waste any talking.

Pilar: What if it heads for the village instead?

Chief Ibanez: It won't. But if it does—

<She has raised a hand to forestall Pilar's objection.>

Chief Ibanez: —Udo can pick up half the bay and flense the fucker to the dinosaur bone. It's not the only thing around here that can move mountains.

<Pilar's eyes widen.>

Pilar: I'd like to see that.

Chief Ibanez: Honestly? So would I.

Pilar: You should have brought the dragon over here.

<Chief Ibanez arches a brow.>

Pilar: I'll bet it burns better than soggy old wood.

Chief Ibanez: Why would it burn at all?

Pilar: Did you smell it?

<Chief Ibanez's eyes widen.>

Chief Ibanez: I was trying not to inhale.

Pilar: Well, it smelled like peat. It was under a peat bog. I think it was made of peat, and that stuff burns really well.

Chief Ibanez: Huh.

Pilar: Yeah.

<Silence on recording.>

<Chief Ibanez bursts into laughter, and slaps her thigh. Pilar jumps.>

Pilar: What?

Chief Ibanez: Peat dragon. Peat's Dragon.

<Pilar blinks.>

Chief Ibanez: Never mind.

<She shivers lightly, and rolls her jumpsuit sleeves back down.>

Chief Ibanez: Bit nippy now. What are the seasons here?

Pilar: What's a season?

<Silence on recording.>

<Pilar laughs.>

Chief Ibanez: Fuck you.

<She laughs as well.>

Pilar: But it would have been a fair statement. I've just heard stories. Snow sounds interesting.

Chief Ibanez: The fucking Canadians think it makes them special. They act like they're born to it. Northern people, hardy and wind-whipped. Load of horse shit.

<There is a single dead tree on the island, and Chief Ibanez is able to find enough dry branches to start a fire. She begins setting up her portable cooking equipment.>

Pilar: What if something out here is attracted to fire?

Chief Ibanez: Then the sword would call them anyway. And the sword will take care of them.

<Pilar watches Chief Ibanez pour a can of stew into a small bowl, and cook it over the fire. The can bears the emblem of the Secure Containment Institute.>

Chief Ibanez: Soup from a dead timeline, cooked in an alternate universe, eaten by people from two different realities. Globalism is out of control.

<Pilar has been looking at the pommel of SCP-6500-SWORD since Chief Ibanez mentioned it.>

Pilar: You must be pretty important to have a weapon like that.

Chief Ibanez: It's not mine.

Pilar: No?

Chief Ibanez: Actually, you know what? It is mine. I found it, and I powered it up. I saved the interesting parts of the world with it.

Pilar: And now you're saving us.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Pilar: You don't seem too excited about it.

<Chief Ibanez stirs the stew.>

Pilar: It doesn't require that much attention.

Chief Ibanez: We'll introduce you to more people on the other side. You'll learn social cues, like when someone doesn't want to pursue a conversational topic.

Pilar: All those people you know never taught you when someone's not taking 'no' for an answer.

<Chief Ibanez sits back on her haunches, and watches the stew bubble.>

Chief Ibanez: Do you know what Florence is?

Pilar: No.

Chief Ibanez: Italy?

Pilar: Vaguely.

Chief Ibanez: Florence is a city in Italy. It has a cathedral. Do—

Pilar: I know what a cathedral is.

Chief Ibanez: It took like a hundred years to build this thing. The original architect died, and nobody could figure out how to put a roof on it. Biggest roof they'd ever had to make, bigger than the world had seen since back when they had slaves and dictators.

<She frowns.>

Chief Ibanez: Well, they still… no, finish the story. If you showed that dead old architect the finished product, he wouldn't have recognized it. I'm sure it wasn't what he imagined. Some new guy came along and had all the right ideas for finishing up that roof, decades later, and it made the whole thing one of the most famous buildings in the world. That first guy? He had an idea. The second guy? He had a plan, and he made it happen.

Pilar: Okay.

Chief Ibanez: When something's big and complex enough, and it takes decades to put together, you only get full credit for it when you're around to see it through. If you're not, it's left to other people. And the results belong as much to them. Maybe more. Probably more. Anybody can doodle on a napkin, Pilar.

Pilar: But buildings aren't people.

Chief Ibanez: You're right. People start building themselves, from an early stage. The people who are there with you while you're doing that? They matter. They matter a lot. The people who aren't?

<Silence on recording.>

Pilar: They were there at the start. Like the architect. They put in a lot of work. A lot of love, before they had to leave.

Chief Ibanez: Difference is, the architect had no choice. Stew's ready.

<The second leg of the journey is less difficult; the spaces between the bedrock lattice are smaller, and easier to see even without the survey data, and the water is clearer as well.>

Pilar: I don't understand bogs.

Chief Ibanez: Me either, but this isn't one.

Pilar: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: Bogs aren't mud stuck through a honeycomb of rock. Whatever these formations are, they're not natural. Paranatural, maybe.

Pilar: What does that mean?

Chief Ibanez: It means your proto-world is weirder than my full one, in a few respects. Not as well-populated with bizarreness, but give it time.

Pilar: You think this place is in an earlier stage of evolution?

Chief Ibanez: I think I'd rather leave that question to the people who really care about it.

Chief Ibanez: Going to winter, huh.

Pilar: Feels like it shouldn't transition this fast.

Chief Ibanez: It definitely shouldn't. Could be the world's still settling into its shoes. Or, might be magic.

<Pilar laughs, then sees the look on Chief Ibanez's face.>

Pilar: I keep forgetting magic is real.

Chief Ibanez: That's what happens when your beliefs are challenged. Your brain tries to fit the new information into the space where the old used to fit, only there isn't enough room, and the old just fits so well. It's a coping mechanism.

Pilar: You adapted pretty well to all the changes.

Chief Ibanez: Do you know how exercise works?

<Pilar sighs.>

Pilar: Can you just say what you mean?

Chief Ibanez: The only way to make something more flexible is to bend and twist until it breaks a bit, and then knit it all back stronger. Is that…?

<In the far distance, the bog ends on what looks to be a rocky shore. In the distance, very faintly, a rectilinear feature is visible.>

Pilar: I've never been there.

Chief Ibanez: But that's it, right? That's where…

Pilar: Where he went? I think so.

<The two women stop just before the front door. Pilar speaks, very quietly.>

Pilar: I'll go first.

<Chief Ibanez visibly strains to step forward and overtake her, but her feet do not move. Pilar opens the shack door.>

Pilar: Dad?

Leandro: What the hell are you doing out here?! It isn't safe!

<He puts the shirt aside and stands, moving quickly across the small space to embrace his daughter.>

Pilar: It's safer than it was.

Leandro: What do you mean?

<He looks past Pilar, through the open door. Chief Ibanez's camera records an expression of bafflement and fear on his face as he sees her.>

Leandro: Who is that?!

<He stares for several seconds.>

Chief Ibanez: Come on.

<Pilar releases him, but he holds her in place between Chief Ibanez and himself, still staring. His mouth is working, and horror is now the dominant emotion on his face.>

Chief Ibanez: Come on.

<She steps across the threshold and enters the cabin. Her camera feed is slightly motion-blurred.>

Leandro: No.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Leandro: No…

<Chief Ibanez clenches her jaw.>

<He releases Pilar and rushes across the room, lifts Chief Ibanez from the floor, and embraces her.>

Leandro: No.

<He drops her back to the cabin floor, falling to his knees in the process, and begins sobbing into her shoulder.>

<He clutches her desperately to his chest.>

Leandro: No no no.

<Pilar watches them in silence. Chief Ibanez is neither returning the embrace, nor refusing it. Her expression is blank.>

Leandro: How?

<Chief Ibanez does not speak.>

Leandro: How are you here. How are you…?

Leandro: Fina.

<Chief Ibanez closes her eyes.>

Leandro: It is you, isn't it?

<He turns to face Pilar.>

Leandro: It's really her?

Pilar: It is. Her people are back at the village. They say they can get us home.

Leandro: What people? Who are her people?

<He looks back at Chief Ibanez, and lets out a strangled cry. He embraces her again, and she sighs heavily.>

Pilar: They call themselves the Foundation.

<Leandro laughs bitterly into Chief Ibanez's shoulder.>

Leandro: Fire in the frying pan.

Leandro: Fina…

Chief Ibanez: You left me.

<Leandro reaches out to her, though neither makes any attempt to close the physical distance.>

Leandro: I'm so sorry.

Chief Ibanez: You left me.

Leandro: I didn't mean to.

Chief Ibanez: You didn't have to go.

Leandro: I thought we did.

<Pilar places her arms around her father's neck, obscuring the camera view.>

Leandro: Fina.

<Silence on recording.>

Leandro: Fina.

<There is a sound of heavy footfalls. Pilar straightens, and the camera view shows that Chief Ibanez has left the shack.>

<The sound is audible on Chief Ibanez's microphone as well, but if she hears, she does not react, hammering nails into the green wood of the wheelbarrow.>

Leandro: The others?

<His voice is hoarse. She does not respond.>

Leandro: Fina, please.

Chief Ibanez: What others.

Leandro: Yésica.

<Chief Ibanez shakes her head.>

<Leandro's voice is now tight, his tone high, pleading.>

Leandro: Eloy?

<Silence on recording.>

Leandro: Ernesto? Jorge?

<Chief Ibanez spins the front wheel speculatively.>

Leandro: Aurelio?

Chief Ibanez: No.

<Leandro staggers into view. He is holding the chair seen earlier; he places it gingerly on the soil, and sits down. His legs are shaking, and they continue to shake when he is no longer standing.>

<Chief Ibanez shifts the wheelbarrow back onto its legs, and grunts in satisfaction.>

Leandro: I couldn't… I, you know, I tried…

Chief Ibanez: It was an easy fix. You didn't try hard enough.

<She looks up at him. His eyes are red and puffy, and his face is streaked with tears. He makes no effort to wipe them away.>

<When she next speaks, Chief Ibanez's tone has shifted from neutral to an angry growl.>

Chief Ibanez: Don't you fucking demonstrate. Don't you demonstrate to me.

Leandro: What?

Chief Ibanez: You must have known.

<He wordlessly shakes his head. Chief Ibanez stands, and points an accusing finger.>

Chief Ibanez: You gave them graves.

<Leandro's voice is a weak whisper, but perfectly audible in the stillness of the shore.>

Leandro: I gave all of you graves.

Chief Ibanez: And then you married Ursula.

<He spreads his hands, hopelessly, and again attempts eye contact.>

Chief Ibanez: There's nothing to say.

Leandro: Fina, I don't know what you've been through…

Chief Ibanez: And you don't want to.

Leandro: I do want to. I still can't believe you're here. But we can't leave.

<She walks past him, stiffly, to look out on the distant bog.>

Chief Ibanez: There'll be a clear path now. I made an impression on the locals that's not likely to buff out anytime soon.

Leandro: That's not what I mean. We can't go back.

<Silence on recording.>

Leandro: Back to Earth.

<She does not turn to face him.>

Chief Ibanez: You can't stay here.

Leandro: We have to.

Chief Ibanez: I guess somehow you didn't hear, but I fought a fucking eldritch beast out there.

Leandro: You what?

<He audibly rises to his feet, and approaches her. He does not enter her field of view.>

Leandro: Fina, what—

Chief Ibanez: Don't you fucking call me that. Not now.

<Silence on recording.>

Leandro: The things in this world? If you've seen them, you should know. You leave well enough alone, they don't bother you. Mostly. Where we came from? We'd be looking over our shoulders every day.

<Chief Ibanez still does not turn.>

Chief Ibanez: Looking for who? Give me an itemized list.

Leandro: Why?

Chief Ibanez: So when I dump you off, I can go fight them, too.

Leandro: I don't want you to fight anyone.

Chief Ibanez: I don't care what you want. You shouldn't want anything.

<She whirls on him.>

Chief Ibanez: You shouldn't want anything, Leandro! You should be in the ground with Yésica and my brothers and my god damn mother!

<Leandro crumples to sit in the dirt. He looks down at his hands.>

<She watches him, silently, for several seconds, then looks up. Pilar is watching from the interior of the shack.>

Leandro: The people who attacked us.

<Chief Ibanez looks down again.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Leandro: They're still waiting. If they think the job's not done, they'll be back. We'll never be safe.

Chief Ibanez: The people who attacked you shot themselves in the foot over and over again until they didn't have any feet left, and bled to death in their parachute pants. Not an issue.

<He idly paws at the dirt. There are specks of green, even here.>

Leandro: Not just them. People were… People were always looking for us, F—

<He reaches up to wipe his face. Streaks of dirt are deposited.>

Leandro: Delfina. For a long time, they were looking. Longer than you can imagine.

Chief Ibanez: You mean the Aphians, yeah?

<His head snaps up. His expression is now one of amazement.>

Chief Ibanez: We've got diplomatic relations. I'm married to one of them. They're not looking anymore.

Leandro: Married…?

Chief Ibanez: Come on, keep up with the list.

<Leandro reaches out to take Chief Ibanez's left hand with his.>

Leandro: Two wedding rings?

<There are two bands on Leandro's left ring finger as well.>

<Chief Ibanez pulls her hand back, with force.>

Chief Ibanez: I'll do it for you then. The giftschreiber? Girlfriend of mine is tearing them a new asshole. Schriftsteller? Same deal. The Uncontained and Unyielding? Both in a box. One of them well on his way to a pine box. Everything you were afraid of is over.

<He shakes his head.>

Leandro: Not everything.

Chief Ibanez: Everything that's fixed by staying here.

Pilar: Dad, she's right.

<Chief Ibanez and Leandro both look up sharply. Neither heard her approach.>

Pilar: We're all going to die if we stay.

Leandro: We'll all die if we go.

<He looks back at Chief Ibanez again, the same look of pleading in his eyes.>

Leandro: Delfina, it doesn't matter how many threats you check off your list. There will always be another.

Chief Ibanez: Actually, that's more good news. I have it on good authority we've almost reached the end of threats.

Leandro: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: I mean that we're in act one of an apocalypse right now, and if we don't get help soon, it might turn out to be a one-act play. That's why I'm here.

<Leandro blinks.>

Leandro: That's why you're here.

<He frowns, and rubs his hands off on the sides of his pants.>

Leandro: How long have you been looking for us?

Chief Ibanez: Couple weeks.

Pilar: What?

Leandro: A couple of weeks.

<Chief Ibanez reaches up and takes his chin in her fingers. She lifts his head until they can lock eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: Don't start. It's not like you pulled the handbrake on your siteship and came roaring back to look for me.

Leandro: I thought you were d—

<Leandro suddenly stands, and Chief Ibanez takes a step back. His voice is louder now, though no less anguished.>

Leandro: I thought you were dead, Fina!

<Chief Ibanez closes the distance again, glaring up at him with wide eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: I thought you were dead too! Because if you weren't, there was no way, no way you would have left me there on my own! My father would never have left me alone.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: But I was wrong.

<From Pilar's camera view, Chief Ibanez appears to deflate. She sits down on the soil, as Leandro had just moments prior.>

Chief Ibanez: Yésica kept telling me you were going to sort it out.

<She reaches down and idly traces curves in the greenish earth.>

Chief Ibanez: You were going to save us. They killed her, dad. She probably never even heard the shot. I hope she didn't know what was going on. I wonder every night if she could feel it, even for a moment.

<Chief Ibanez is weeping.>

Leandro: Fina—

Chief Ibanez: They beat Aurelio so bad, we had to watch him bleed to death on the inside for almost a week. They blew Eloy apart.

Leandro: Please—

Chief Ibanez: They shot Ernesto in the head, as a warning. A warning to me, because of a situation YOU PUT ME IN!

<She does not rise again. The effort to shout seems to have exhausted her.>

Chief Ibanez: And Jorge? You want to know what happened to Jorge?

Leandro: No.

Chief Ibanez: Goddamn right you don't. It would kill you.

<She looks up at him. He appears to be dissociating.>

Chief Ibanez: Or maybe it wouldn't.

<She shakes her head.>

Chief Ibanez: Maybe you wouldn't even care.

Pilar: Delfina, please.

<Chief Ibanez gets to her feet again, slowly.>

Chief Ibanez: I don't know what I expected you to say.

<She walks back toward the shack.>

Chief Ibanez: I don't know what you could say.

<Pilar reaches out for her as she passes. She bats the hand away.>

Chief Ibanez: You abandoned me.

<She picks up the harness and scabbard, and affixes them to her back again. Without looking back, she asks Leandro a question.>

Chief Ibanez: Are you going to abandon me again?

<Leandro's lip trembles as he considers Chief Ibanez for several seconds, before responding.>

Leandro: I have more than just you to think about.

Pilar: Which means we're definitely going.

<Chief Ibanez turns to face her. Leandro looks at his younger daughter with astonishment, and some anger.>

Leandro: Pilar, no.

Pilar: Why not?

Leandro: It's certain death. No, it's worse than that. It's uncertain death. Our people could tell the future once, you know that? Once. Not anymore. You understand what that means?

Pilar: It means you saw too much, and became cowardly. I don't blame you for that. But you have to move past it.

Leandro: It means that everything's falling apart. The universe doesn't even know where it's going anymore. How can we find our way in that dark? There is no future for us in her world.

Pilar: There's never a future in any world until you do something, dad. Watching is never enough.

<He deflates, but still shakes his head.>

Leandro: It's going to be so dangerous. You really have no idea.

Pilar: That's right. I don't.

<She plants her hands on her hips.>

Pilar: I don't know what's out there, beyond the handful of things you've told me about. I don't know whether she's right, or you're right, about what we're up against. But I do know one thing.

<She suddenly grins.>

Pilar: She really did kill a fucking dragon.

Chief Ibanez: Fought. I fought a fucking dragon.

<Leandro looks at each of them in turn.>

Leandro: How can you… how.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Leandro: You aren't really serious, that you…

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Leandro: Just… how.

Chief Ibanez: I'll tell you if you tell me.

Leandro: Tell you what?

Chief Ibanez: Grandfather said we were doing something shameful. Something foolish.

Leandro: You spoke to him?

Chief Ibanez: I cradled his head in my lap while he died.

<Leandro emits a sudden, strangled cry. Pilar reaches out to comfort him, but he staggers away, looking up at the green sky with a look of lost desperation.>

Chief Ibanez: They've all been dead for thirty years.

Leandro: Not for me. Not like that…!

<Chief Ibanez steps back onto the rocks, to where her father is wandering aimlessly, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side, knuckles white.>

Chief Ibanez: What did he mean? What were we not doing?

<Leandro is looking back and forth across the undifferentiated landscape, as though searching for something which is not there. When he responds, there is a lack of presence in his tone.>

Leandro: We had a plan…

Chief Ibanez: What kind of a plan?

Leandro: A plan to stop them. The brothers. We had our part, and the others… you named them.

Chief Ibanez: The Aphians. Go on.

Leandro: Creatures of chaos. The shifting sands. Our people brought knowledge to the endless uncertainty. We saw the future, and we were never wrong.

<He stumbles, and takes a knee on the rocks.>

Leandro: Do you understand me? Never wrong.

Chief Ibanez: Order.

<Leandro spits.>

Leandro: Order.

Chief Ibanez: And chaos.

<He nods bitterly.>

Chief Ibanez: One people for each of them.

Leandro: One city for each of them. One tomb.

Pilar: What?

Leandro: Zevala and Aph. Our prisons. But they weren't destined for us. Not at first.

Chief Ibanez: They were prisons for the brothers.

<He looks up at Chief Ibanez. His eyes are drying; he has no tears left.>

Leandro: We thought we could take them, capture them. Transport them to the space between spaces, and leave them where they couldn't hurt anyone ever again.

Chief Ibanez: And why didn't you?

<Leandro laughs desolately.>

Leandro: Because love makes you strong, and love makes you weak.

Chief Ibanez: So, it's my fault.

Leandro: No!

Chief Ibanez: It's my fault, and Yésica's, and—

<Leandro reaches up to grab her hand, and this time she does not shake him off.>

Leandro: No! We make our own decisions, and no one is responsible for them but us. I knew what it would cost if we brought that demon home. I knew that we were planning a one-way trip. I knew that I would lose you, and your brothers, and your sister, and your…

<He chokes back a sob.>

Leandro: …and your mother, one way or another. I couldn't pay that price.

Chief Ibanez: Maybe it would have worked out.

Leandro: It wouldn't.

Chief Ibanez: How do you know?

<They stare at each other for a few moments.>

Chief Ibanez: You looked?

Leandro: Your mother looked.

<Chief Ibanez eases herself to the ground, and Leandro shifts from kneeling to a sitting position. He still has her hand in his.>

Leandro: She was one of the few who still had the sight. It takes more than just the flowers to make it work. There's a strength of spirit that not all of us have…. Maybe none of us, now.

<Pilar remains at a distance, watching.>

Chief Ibanez: She saw that it wouldn't work. Your plan.

Leandro: That's right.

Chief Ibanez: But if your foresight is so orderly, then wasn't she seeing something that had to happen? Had to be attempted? I thought these visions always came true.

<Leandro nods, over and over, as though he cannot stop himself.>

Leandro: Yes. That's important. It's not that they always come true, it's that they must come true. We have a responsibility to them.

Chief Ibanez: Them?

Leandro: The visions. We have to make sure they're realized.

Chief Ibanez: Or what?

Leandro: Or everything gets much, much worse.

Chief Ibanez: Are you saying…

<His lower lip trembles.>

Chief Ibanez: You are saying.

<Pilar approaches, sitting down between them.>

Pilar: Saying what?

Chief Ibanez: Because they didn't fail to save the world, they made it end quicker. Is that right?

<Leandro nods miserably.>

Chief Ibanez: You worsened the entropy by violating causality. You saw the fixed future, and allowed it to flux.

Leandro: What point is a sacrifice if it gains nothing?

Chief Ibanez: It would have gained us time for more sacrifices.

Leandro: But my children would never have seen it. You expect me to save a world that my children wouldn't get to live in?

Chief Ibanez: The things you didn't sacrifice then? Odds are I'll have to sacrifice them now.

Leandro: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: Because you didn't fight, it's my fight now. I'm the hero. I'm doing what you couldn't.

<She takes her hand back, though not violently as before.>

Chief Ibanez: Wait. Is that why they attacked?

<He stares at her, uncomprehending.>

Chief Ibanez: Did the Insurgency attack because they found out about your plan?

Leandro: No. They attacked so they could make plans of their own.

Chief Ibanez: What does that mean?

<Leandro's mouth works. Pilar is looking at him very closely, and he is flinching from her gaze.>

Chief Ibanez: You know something about the Chaos Insurgency?

Leandro: I know that the name is a deception. They wanted what we had.

<He spits again.>

Leandro: Certainty.

Chief Ibanez: The visions? They came to you for the visions?

Leandro: They came for what was behind the visions.

<He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his tone is surer.>

Leandro: You should ask Ursula.

Chief Ibanez: Just tell me.

Leandro: I don't know the details. It wasn't for me to know. I have my shame, and she has hers.

Chief Ibanez: It's good to compartmentalize. Share the responsibilities. Sign of a healthy marriage.

Leandro: Fina… Delfina—

<She stands once again, and shakes the harness back into position.>

Chief Ibanez: Pack your shit, and let's git.

Leandro: Please believe me.

<She looks down at him.>

Leandro: I'm so happy you're alive.

<He has been able to muster a few final tears.>

Leandro: Whatever you've become.

<Chief Ibanez freezes.>

Chief Ibanez: I never wanted you to see me.

Leandro: What?

Chief Ibanez: It was simple. It was all so simple, because I knew you'd never see me.

Leandro: What do you mean?

Chief Ibanez: I think you know what I mean.

<Silence on recording.>

Leandro: I never wanted any of this.

Chief Ibanez: That's what you get.

<She grits her teeth, and speaks through them.>

Chief Ibanez: That's what happens when you don't choose. When you don't push. When you just let things happen. You get what you never wanted, and you don't get to blame anybody but yourself.

Leandro: I'm not blaming anyone.

Chief Ibanez: That's what pissing and moaning is. Feeling sorry for yourself. Saying it isn't fair. It is fair, d—

<She growls with inarticulate rage at herself.>

Chief Ibanez: It's what you deserve for taking the easy way out. There's only so much ease to go around. You made it harder for everyone else.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: I'm doing what you should have done, only now it's so much worse, because you didn't do anything.

Leandro: When you have children—

Chief Ibanez: I'll have a name that's worth passing on to them. I'm glad you took hers instead.

<She stalks back toward the shack, stiffly.>

Chief Ibanez: I'm still the last Ibanez.

<Transcript ends.>

SCP-8273-1.

Addendum 8273-15, Return: Leandro suggested remaining at the cabin until the next morning, but Chief Ibanez demurred, citing the fact that a safe path through the bog had now been determined and the return journey would not take longer than the remainder of the day. Leandro accepted this decision, but insisted on a brief detour half an hour's walk from the cabin first.

<Transcript begins.>

Chief Ibanez: I'm still not clear on how you knew where to go.

Pilar: Hmm?

Chief Ibanez: Don't fucking hmm me. I'm the Chief of Pursuit and Suppression, your evasiveness is doomed from the start.

Pilar: I was just—

Chief Ibanez: Stalling to come up with an excuse, yeah, I know. Too bad. This place is almost impossible to map, and I get the distinct impression you've never actually been here before.

Pilar: Yeah, well.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah? Well?

<Pilar reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, and hands Chief Ibanez a water-damaged paper map. It is drawn in a child's hand.>

Chief Ibanez: Saray.

Pilar: Yeah. She saw him go, and snuck after him. He made her promise not to tell.

Chief Ibanez: How'd you get her to?

Pilar: I didn't. She came to me.

Chief Ibanez: Why?

<She pauses.>

Chief Ibanez: Because she knew I could save him?

Pilar: No, because she knew you needed to.

Chief Ibanez: I do like that kid.

<She shakes her head ruefully.>

Pilar: Are you going to forgive him?

<Leandro looks at the ground. A slight but very broad depression in the earth is now visible ahead.>

Chief Ibanez: It doesn't matter.

Pilar: Of course it matters.

Chief Ibanez: Sorry, I was doing the thing again.

Pilar: What thing?

Chief Ibanez: Overcomplication. What I meant to say was it's none of your fucking business.

<Pilar smiles.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Pilar: You wouldn't be this angry if it didn't still matter to you.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Why not just give me the map, though?

Pilar: Hmm?

Chief Ibanez: Why come with?

Pilar: You're not the only one who's ever wanted to leave home, Chief.

<Chief Ibanez nods, seems to consider something, then nods again.>

Chief Ibanez: You can call me Delfina.

<Leandro looks back at them.>

Leandro: We're here.

Chief Ibanez: What is this?

Leandro: The ashes of our last hope.

Chief Ibanez: Less flowery?

Leandro: No, that's just it. That's what this is.

<Chief Ibanez walks past him to examine the vegetation more clearly. She picks up one of the stalks, and sucks a breath in through her teeth.>

Leandro: This is my Nigella plantation.

<Chief Ibanez mutters the next sentence under her breath.>

Chief Ibanez: No leylines for miles, she said.

Leandro: What?

Chief Ibanez: Nothing. What's it doing way the hell out here?

Leandro: Same thing the cabin is. Been here for generations. The flowers too. Waiting for us to return.

Chief Ibanez: And only you knew where it was? Before now?

Leandro: The men tend the flowers, and maintain the machine. The women have the visions, and make the decisions.

Chief Ibanez: Nursery rhyme sexism. I guess it's nice to have a mnemonic.

Pilar: What happened to them? The flowers, I mean.

Leandro: Wouldn't grow. Rotted so badly they scorched the permafrost. All that potential energy had to go somewhere.

<He shrugs. The gesture seems forced.>

Leandro: I guess it's possible to be too much a stranger.

Chief Ibanez: You planted them?

Leandro: I did. That's why I came out here, the first time. When we arrived. I wanted to grow a new crop, so that…

Pilar: …you could go looking for her?

Chief Ibanez: So he could get out of this lime-green hellhole.

Leandro: Whatever you want to believe.

<Leandro slouches in a posture of defeat.>

Leandro: I thought I understood the principles. As usual, I was wrong. It takes years for these things to grow, you know. They should have been ready by now. Instead…

Chief Ibanez: That's why you didn't go back. To Puerto Extirpado.

Leandro: They're better off without me.

Pilar: That's not true.

<Chief Ibanez rotates the desiccated stalk in her fingertips, thoughtfully.>

Leandro: I just… I hoped it would work. But hope isn't always enough.

Pilar: But it's fine, right? We don't need them.

Chief Ibanez: Sure. It's fine.

<She stands, dropping the stem to the ashen earth. Pilar's camera captures the last of the light from SCP-6500-SWORD sputtering out.>

<Transcript ends.>

Chief Ibanez, Pilar and Leandro reached Puerto Extirpado at approximately midnight, after an uneventful trek through the bog, forest, and hills. Chief Ibanez radioed ahead; a party met them where the gully opened on the rear of the abandoned Ibanez shack.

<Transcript begins.>

<Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie, Ursula and Saray are waiting at the shack when Chief Ibanez emerges. She steps aside to let Leandro pass; he moves tentatively into the village proper, and is immediately pounced upon by his younger daughter.>

Leandro: Little fish.

<He kneels to embrace her, and they remain that way in silence while the others speak.>

<Pilar hugs her mother.>

Pilar: Told you we'd be fine.

<Ursula draws back, and brushes a few specks of muck from Pilar's face and hair.>

Ursula: You don't look fine.

Chief Ibanez: Nothing a bath won't fix.

<Seeing Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie approach her, Chief Ibanez adopts a hostile posture.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I think she thinks we're going to kiss her again.

Dr. Okorie: Well, I was.

<Ursula approaches Leandro, a sorrowful smile on her face. He stands — Saray remains attached to his legs — and allows her to embrace him as well.>

Leandro: I'm sorry.

Ursula: Hush.

Leandro: I tried—

Ursula: Hush, I said.

<Dr. Okorie kneels to examine the damage to Chief Ibanez's uniform.>

Dr. Okorie: Are you okay?

Chief Ibanez: Obviously.

Dr. Okorie: I don't mean—

Chief Ibanez: I need to talk to Place. Anything to report before I do?

Dr. Astrauskas: Nothing that can't wait.

Chief Ibanez: Good.

<She stalks off, in the general direction of Facility-34.>

Dr. Okorie: Are you gonna catch one of those showers?

Chief Ibanez: Might be a waste of time.

<When she has disappeared beyond the edge of the shack, Dr. Okorie turns to see Leandro staring at her. Ursula is fussing over the state of his clothing, silently.>

Leandro: Hello.

Dr. Okorie: Mr. Ibanez?

Leandro: I go by Pelaez.

Dr. Okorie: Is that your first name?

Leandro: No, it…

<He frowns.>

Leandro: Fina never told you my…?

Dr. Astrauskas: She speaks. But she speaks slowly.

Dr. Okorie: Some sentences take years.

Leandro: You're her…

<Leandro gestures at the rings on their fingers.>

Dr. Okorie: That's right.

Ursula: It's good.

<He glances at her, uncertain.>

Leandro: It's good?

Ursula: Yes.

<He keeps eye contact for a moment, nods, and looks back at Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie.>

Leandro: Well. Good. Pleased to meet you.

<He extends a hand, and each woman shakes it in turn.>

Dr. Okorie: Likewise.

Dr. Astrauskas: I think we've all got a lot to talk about.

Leandro: I've told Fina everything I know.

Dr. Astrauskas: Mmm.

<Her eyes are narrowed.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You shouldn't feel bad she didn't tell us about you, Mr. Pelaez.

<He gives her an inquisitive look.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Because apparently she didn't tell you about me, either.

<Transcript ends.>

Chief Ibanez consulted briefly with Dr. McDoctorate, confirming that the state of the Trans-Liminal Propulser was no better than before. She passed on her information regarding the failed Nigella crop, and was in the process of workshopping a possible solution to the dilemma when Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie joined them in the control room.

<Transcript begins.>

<Both Dr. Astrauskas and Dr. Okorie are carrying data tablets filled with the information they have gleaned both from and about the locals during Chief Ibanez's absence.>

Chief Ibanez: You've got good news.

Dr. Okorie: How can you tell?

Chief Ibanez: That wasn't speculation. That was an order.

Dr. Astrauskas: Well, I don't know if this counts as good, particularly, but it's interesting at least. I think the severing really is what they say it is. There's Hume tendrils waving off every one of the Extirpadans, stopping just short of each other, shearing every which way. You've got them too, and they've been reaching out ever since we arrived. I noticed it as soon as we found Pilar in the gulch. That's what I was going to tell you at the town hall.

<She waves in the air, tracing lines only she can see. Chief Ibanez follows the trail of her fingertips, looking uneasy.>

Dr. Astrauskas: They've also all got the same declension you have.

Chief Ibanez: And what do you think that means?

Dr. Okorie: Could it just be because they're from Aph? Originally?

Dr. Astrauskas: No. The Aphians have a slight Hume elevation. This is on the other side of baseline.

Dr. McDoctorate: I have an idea.

Chief Ibanez: About how we can get out of here?

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm still working on that. Did you think I'd forgotten?

Chief Ibanez: You're a mad scientist. It was at least worth considering.

Dr. McDoctorate: Mad science is just something you perform. It's not an identity.

Dr. Astrauskas: Have you met Everett Mann?

Dr. McDoctorate: The point is, I'm not comfortable talking about that subject on the record.

Dr. Okorie: Why?

Dr. McDoctorate: I'm not comfortable explaining why on the record, either.

<Chief Ibanez kicks the base of the nearest console, and the metal vibrates loudly. They all turn to face her.>

Chief Ibanez: We're learning a lot about everyone's comfort zones. That's great. Now finish explaining the stupid Hume thing.

Dr. McDoctorate: Personally, I think it's a consequence of dimensional travel. Not an indicator of origin, but repeated transportation.

Chief Ibanez: How would that work?

Dr. McDoctorate: Do you know how the transporters on Star Trek function?

<Dr. Astrauskas winces.>

Dr. Astrauskas: If that's the explanation, don't explain it.

Chief Ibanez: What? What's he talking about?

Dr. Astrauskas: Never you mind. But that would certainly explain the discrepancies. Not that we could have known it before we figured out what the machine does.

Chief Ibanez: I think that's why the TAD fucked with my old file, too. They didn't want anyone realizing this place existed outside of time.

Dr. Okorie: Probably they would have wanted something like that for themselves.

Dr. McDoctorate: They have something like that for themselves.

<The others turn to look at him.>

Dr. McDoctorate: You ever been debriefed by them? Don't recommend it.

Dr. Astrauskas: You remember everything now, right?

Chief Ibanez: Now, in this moment, in this room, yes.

Dr. Okorie: I still don't understand why your memories were location-specific. Has anyone been forgetting what they've learned in Puerto Extirpado?

Dr. McDoctorate: No, because I properly fixed those exchangers.

Dr. Astrauskas: What did they exchange?

Dr. McDoctorate: Psychic fields. Those first dimensional travellers all died because the systems didn't properly sort their memory sets between worlds. Every one of their possible selves tried to template on the same brains, and fried them. The caretakers must have understood the machinery just well enough to jury-rig a stopgap system that compartmentalized you between each reality. Me, I like to work from first principles.

Chief Ibanez: Why didn't it do that to the Prophets? The diary says they all lived, only the Institute people kicked off.

Dr. McDoctorate: Best guess? The Prophets don't have alternate selves.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I don't know why, but I don't like the sound of that.

Dr. McDoctorate: I do know why. You're happier not knowing.

Chief Ibanez: Getting a bit tired of hearing that.

Dr. Okorie: So, okay. Memories compartmentalized to each universe, before, but not anymore? Meaning if we went back to all the other places Del visited…

Dr. McDoctorate: …she'd get to keep her memories once she reclaimed them, yes.

Chief Ibanez: Pass.

Dr. Astrauskas: Let's get back to the memories at hand. The journal entries are undated. How long were you in here for, really? Well, not really. Subjectively.

Chief Ibanez: Maybe two years.

Dr. Okorie: What?!

Dr. Astrauskas: I thought it was months at the outside. Jesus Christ.

Chief Ibanez: Think about it. When I came in, I was an angry teenager on a lucky streak. I came out in military power armour with the mental and physical capability to use it. I came out with enough engineering knowledge for a Foundation degree. Muscle mass you'd usually need steroids to get. This place gave me all the time I needed to make myself into something new.

<She sighs.>

Chief Ibanez: And last week, when I stepped outside again for the first time, I remembered green hell too. Not just what was in the journals, all of it. It was different when I first visited; wilder, more dangerous, no village. That's where I taught myself how to use the suit.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Just popping around the corner and back a few times shouldn't have been enough to affect your Hume spirals so dramatically.

Chief Ibanez: It wasn't. I went to lots of other places. More than I wrote about. I wasn't a big writer. And like I said, emptied out the hydroponics.

Dr. Astrauskas: You went on a multidimensional training voyage.

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

Dr. Astrauskas: Like—

Chief Ibanez: Like some batshit version of Batman.

Dr. Okorie: Sheesh.

Chief Ibanez: Aphora will be jealous.

<Dr. Astrauskas is nodding.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Yeah, that's it. That's what I saw.

Dr. Okorie: How can you tell?

Dr. Astrauskas: Because now that I know to look, I can see that all of our Hume spirals are slightly off too.

Dr. McDoctorate: By how much?

<She indicates with her forefinger and thumb.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Tiny little fraction.

Dr. Okorie: Compared to Del's?

<She squints.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Hard to say. I've got a point scale, but it's more subjective than anything. Maybe a tenth? Maybe a twentieth.

Dr. Okorie: Holy shit.

Dr. McDoctorate: And here I thought we all took our first multidimensional trip together.

Chief Ibanez: Well, don't feel bad. We've probably taken our last one together.

Dr. Okorie: What's that mean?

Chief Ibanez: Egghead says our flowers won't work on this side.

Dr. Okorie: Kept that to yourself, did you?

Chief Ibanez: I'm the commander. That's my job.

Dr. Astrauskas: Well, you should have shared the job.

Chief Ibanez: Why?

Dr. McDoctorate: Because the villagers were talking about this already, obviously. They said they couldn't get the mechanism to work either, so they were really surprised when you pulled the Facility back to baseline. They thought somebody had figured out how to use it again, and abandoned them.

Chief Ibanez: Somebody.

Dr. McDoctorate: Yes. Your father.

Chief Ibanez: Figures. But that's not really useful information, is it?

Dr. Astrauskas: It is if I'm reading the implications correctly. I think your father knows something the rest of them don't. And if I'm right, we might be able to get out of here after all.

Chief Ibanez: Well, spill the beans.

Dr. Astrauskas: First I need to see if I can get the beans to spill.

Chief Ibanez: What the hell does that mean?

Dr. Astrauskas: I get to have secrets too. This is an equitable relationship we're in.

<Dr. Okorie and Chief Ibanez emerge from the Facility together.>

Dr. Okorie: What were you talking to Place about before we came in?

Chief Ibanez: Stranger-in-the-Mist needs leyline proximity to grow, is that right?

<Dr. Okorie nods.>

Chief Ibanez: That's what the demonics were for, in the hydroponics, you figure?

<Dr. Okorie nods again.>

Chief Ibanez: Are there any leylines here? In this world?

Dr. Okorie: There are not. Not for hundreds of miles in every direction.

Chief Ibanez: How do you know?

Dr. Okorie: I set up a skein under the ground, put out feelers as far as I could go without using myself. Roz read my aura while I was doing it. New thing we figured out, I did send you the paper a few months back.

Chief Ibanez: Well, you knew what that would get you.

Dr. Okorie: Hope springs eternal.

Chief Ibanez: So everyone keeps telling me.

Dr. Okorie: You're wondering if it's possible to grow the plants here?

Chief Ibanez: No, just musing. Can a leyline be alive?

<Dr. Okorie blinks.>

Dr. Okorie: Leylines are magical conduits in the earth. The demonics are a dirty hack that probably works really badly at best, and Tartareans aren't alive per se. So, debatable. But I think you mean 'ambulatory', which is just insane.

Chief Ibanez: Mad, even.

Dr. Okorie: Sure?

<Chief Ibanez nods, then heads down the path.>

Dr. Okorie: What prompted that?

Chief Ibanez: Just settling a bet. Nothing to worry about.

<Transcript ends.>

The following morning, Dr. Astrauskas scheduled a private meeting with Leandro Pelaez. He met her in the empty Ibanez shack.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. Astrauskas is seated in a battered steel chair. She has set up another for Leandro; he takes it, eyeing her suspiciously. She has no devices on her person, save for her lapel camera, and her hands are folded neatly in her lap.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Mr. Pelaez. We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Rozálie Astrauskas. I'm married to your daughter.

Leandro: I'm still waiting for someone to explain that to me.

Dr. Astrauskas: There will be plenty of time for that later.

<When he replies, his tone is petulant.>

Leandro: We have plenty of time right now. It's not like we can go anywhere.

Dr. Astrauskas: I think you know that's not precisely true.

<He frowns.>

Leandro: Meaning?

<She leans forward, crossing her knees and placing both hands on them.>

Dr. Astrauskas: How would you describe the problem with the mechanism in the Facility?

Leandro: Trying to catch me out?

Dr. Astrauskas: Trying to see if we can all get on the same page. Indulge me?

Leandro: We ran out of flowers, and all the ones I tried to grow here are dead.

Dr. Astrauskas: I believe the second part of that statement is true, if a little misleading.

Leandro: You're calling me a liar?

Dr. Astrauskas: Yes.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Do you want to explain, or should I? Probably you'll want me to do it, in case we're not both thinking the same thing.

<Leandro shrugs.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Fine with me. The mechanism doesn't just need flowers, it needs flowers from the dimension you're trying to leave.

<Leandro's mouth twitches.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You don't really need to confirm. Dr. McDoctorate and I have it pretty well figured out.

Leandro: Dr. who?

Dr. Astrauskas: He'd be so pleased to hear you call him that.

<Leandro scowls.>

Leandro: I don't know what you're talking about. All of this is nonsense.

Dr. Astrauskas: You were the one responsible for replanting Stranger-in-the-Mist, right?

Leandro: Yes. That's one of my duties. The most important one.

Dr. Astrauskas: How come you were suddenly so bad at it?

<His head snaps back in her direction, and his tone becomes defensive.>

Leandro: There was nothing sudden about it. The old crop was dead, and the knowledge of how to grow a new one was never properly passed down to me.

Dr. Astrauskas: That's a good explanation. But the fact you've been dishonest with me about part of this process suggests—

<Leandro stands, and towers over her.>

Leandro: Suggests what? Why don't you just come out and say it?

Dr. Astrauskas: Okay.

<She looks up at him, unflinching.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You killed your own crop.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: They grew just fine, so you killed them yourself.

Leandro: Why would I do that?

Dr. Astrauskas: Because you saw the Facility vanish when Del called it back home, and you knew what that meant, and you didn't want to leave.

<He walks past her, into the back room. His voice carries easily in the steel shack.>

Leandro: Of course I want to leave. I've wanted to leave since the moment we got here.

<Dr. Astrauskas does not turn to watch him, but continues facing forward and speaking in an even tone.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Fine, you do want to leave. But you wouldn't let yourself do it. You were too afraid. So you stranded everyone here.

Leandro: What are you basing that on?

Dr. Astrauskas: You never let Del or her sister or her brothers leave the village. I imagine the shield was a part of that, no? Made her dizzy when she climbed too high.

Leandro: They don't still have vertigo back on Earth?

Dr. Astrauskas: All your precautions, and still you couldn't protect them. So the second time around, you found a way to control the remaining variables.

Leandro: That's…

<Leandro has walked back into the main room. Across from Dr. Astrauskas, the front door is now open. Ursula is standing in the doorway.>

Leandro: Ursula.

Ursula: Leandro.

Leandro: You heard?

Ursula: I heard.

Leandro: Do you believe this?

Ursula: Of course I believe it. I've known the entire time.

<Silence on recording.>

<Leandro sags.>

Leandro: Do we need to tell them?

<Ursula walks into the shack, and attempts to comfort her husband.>

Dr. Astrauskas: It's true, then?

<Leandro spits on the floor, then looks mortified at having done so. He scuffs it out with his boot heel.>

Leandro: Of course it's true. This place might not look like much to you, but to me it's the only safe home I've ever had. Killing those flowers was the easiest thing I've ever had to do.

<Ursula embraces him.>

Chief Ibanez: Was it easy killing any chance of ever seeing me again? Killing the hope in your heart?

<She is standing at the window, which is partially ajar. Due to the buildup of soil and plant matter outside the shack, she is able to meet her father's eyes without craning her neck.>

Leandro: I thought you were dead.

Chief Ibanez: No, you didn't.

Chief Ibanez: I'm an investigator. No reason you should have known that. It's not like we've really talked yet. But the first day in this village, after speaking with your daughters, I went looking for something. Found it in your old laundry.

<Chief Ibanez unslings her backpack and unzips it. She removes a faded salmon dress, and drapes it over the windowsill before placing the bag on the ground beside her.>

Chief Ibanez: I left this here on the last day. I went for a swim in that bay—

<She points.>

Chief Ibanez: —and when I came back out, I started putting on the armour. Fired up the mechanism, and went back home to Zevala. Left the last thing that connected me to you, here.

<She stamps her foot for emphasis.>

Chief Ibanez: Did you find it, or someone else?

Leandro: I found it.

<Leandro is whispering now.>

Leandro: I was the first one out. I'm always the first one out.

Dr. Astrauskas: Another of your duties.

Leandro: If something's going to happen to one of us, it should happen to me.

Dr. Astrauskas: Why?

<He looks up, and straightens somewhat. Ursula withdraws.>

Leandro: Because you're right. It's always my fault. I wouldn't let them put the plan in motion. I wouldn't let them reach out for help. And I poured gasoline all over the flower crop.

Ursula: Leo…

Leandro: I'm sorry, Ursula.

Chief Ibanez: "The ashes of our last hope," you said.

Leandro: You knew.

Chief Ibanez: I've beaten the truth out of folks with a literally magical way with words. You're nothing by comparison.

<Ursula winces, but takes Leandro's hand.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I don't understand. You had the flowers, and you had the dress. You had to know there was a chance she was still alive out there.

Chief Ibanez: What are you talking about? Those flowers take ages to grow. Didn't he tell you the old ones had all died?

Dr. Astrauskas: He did tell me that.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Mr. Pelaez?

<He is shaking his head. He can't seem to stop.>

Leandro: I never took any chances, and even so, my children… my children…

<He raises his hands in a pleading gesture.>

Leandro: How could you expect me to go back?

Chief Ibanez: What's going on? The old flowers were already dead, right?

<Silence on recording.>

<Chief Ibanez is ashen.>

Chief Ibanez: Oh, my god.

Dr. Astrauskas: You burned them too. In 1994, when you first arrived.

<Wordlessly, he nods. Once.>

Dr. Astrauskas: How could you abandon your children?

Ursula: Because I forced him to.

<Chief Ibanez stares at her.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Leandro: Ursula, no—

Ursula: When we first arrived, I went with him. It was against the rules, but after what we saw… the rules didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

<Leandro clutches her hand tightly.>

Ursula: I picked a flower, I ground it up, and while he was tending to the rest of the crop, I had a vision.

Chief Ibanez: A vision of what? Of what would happen if you tried to come back for me?

Ursula: Of whether or not we would try.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: And what did you see?

<She makes eye contact. Both women hold it for a time.>

Chief Ibanez: Obviously that you wouldn't.

Ursula: That's right.

Chief Ibanez: So you set that in stone. You made it so you could never come home, not without damaging reality further.

Dr. Astrauskas: You were making it easier for him.

Chief Ibanez: Letting him let me go.

Leandro: I'm so sorry, Fina.

<He pulls himself together yet again.>

Leandro: But you're all safe here now. Long after everything else is perished, we'll still be here.

<Chief Ibanez picks up the sack again.>

Chief Ibanez: Nothing else is going to perish. We're going to make sure of that, soon as we get back.

Leandro: Your friend is right.

Chief Ibanez: Wife.

Leandro: Your wife is right. The flowers need to be from here, and they don't grow anymore. I used the last of the seeds, and the plants are all dead. It would take decades to replace them.

Chief Ibanez: Pack some supplies, and meet me at the gulch tomorrow morning.

Leandro: Why?

Chief Ibanez: You're going to show me.

Leandro: But…

<He sighs in desperate frustration.>

Leandro: They're dead, I told you.

Chief Ibanez: Never stopped me before.

<Transcript ends.>

As requested, before heading back out Chief Ibanez engaged in a brief consultation with Dr. McDoctorate. The latter was adamant that no record of their conversation be made.

Chief Ibanez and Leandro Pelaez left Puerto Extirpado again the following day, at first light. They travelled together to the altered treeline, at which point Chief Ibanez again left her escort on the shore before walking into the bog, SCP-6500-SWORD in hand.

The pair returned to the village at sunset.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. Okorie exits the Ibanez shack, stretching her back and grunting. It is late evening, and the invisible sun is setting; Puerto Extirpado is bathed in a fierce greenish-yellow glow, and verdant spores begin to catch the light all around her. They are much thicker than usual, settling over the rolling plateau like a blanket. She yawns, and takes a single step in the direction of the gully when a small stone skitters across her path, followed by a filthy brown boot, followed by its owner.>

<Slowly, theatrically, she flexes the muscles of her right arm.>

Dr. Okorie: What the fuck happened?

<Chief Ibanez jerks a thumb at herself.>

Dr. Okorie: What did you happen to?

<Chief Ibanez grins.>

Chief Ibanez returns.

Chief Ibanez: Wholeass dragon.

<She claws hair out of her face, and wipes the sweat from her brow.>

Chief Ibanez: This time it took.

Dr. Okorie: Fina, Warrior Princess.

<Both laugh.>

<Dr. Astrauskas exits the shack, turns, and freezes when she sees Chief Ibanez.>

Dr. Astrauskas: What the hell happened?

<Chief Ibanez and Dr. Okorie laugh again.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Where's your father?

Chief Ibanez: Dragging the sack.

Dr. Okorie: What sack?

<Transcript ends.>

Leandro Pelaez arrived at Facility-34 half an hour later with Chief Ibanez's bag in tow, filled to the brim with N. cerritulus revitalized via the anomalous properties of a hyper-energized SCP-6500-SWORD. Dr. McDoctorate performed his baseline tests a second time, and indicated that the TLP's 'pilot light' was now back on. It was possible to return to baseline reality.

The villagers of Puerto Extirpado were informed that a transference would take place the following day, and they should prepare their structures and remove all vital personal possessions to the Facility. A feast was held in the town square using the remainder of their perishable goods, after which Delta-6500 met with the Ibanez/Pelaez family for a final debriefing.

<Transcript begins.>

Dr. McDoctorate: All's well that ends well.

Ursula: Have you ever heard of tempting fate, Dr. Place?

<He laughs.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Don't get me started.

Dr. Astrauskas: He means that. Don't.

Dr. Okorie: You look pretty gutted, Mr. Pelaez.

Leandro: Just call me Leandro, please.

Dr. Okorie: Leandro. I know you've got misgivings—

<A tear rolls down his cheek. He doesn't bother to brush it away.>

Leandro: It's not even that.

Dr. Astrauskas: Then what?

Leandro: I just saw my daughter do something I never thought possible. It still seems impossible. It was already impossible to even see her again.

<Dr. Okorie reaches out to hold his hand. He is surprised, but allows the contact.>

Dr. Okorie: She does that a lot. You won't get used to it, but you will get used to expecting it.

<He shakes his head.>

Leandro: I never imagined anything like that could be under the ground. I didn't even believe Saray when she told me about her birds.

Dr. Okorie: They might not have existed until recently.

<He frowns.>

Leandro: How's that?

Dr. Astrauskas: This world is waking up.

Leandro: What does that mean?

Chief Ibanez: Nothing good for ours.

<He appears to give up attempting to understand, and sighs deeply.>

Leandro: I never wanted any of this for you, Fina.

<She shrugs.>

Chief Ibanez: It's not your problem anymore. It's mine. So you can either help me fix it, or stay out of my way.

<He nods.>

Leandro: I don't know what help I can be, but you…

<He smiles tentatively.>

Leandro: You are a wonder. Now and always. You only need to ask.

<Dr. Astrauskas tugs at Chief Ibanez's cheek. The latter scowls, but does not resist.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Our miracle worker.

<Leandro swirls his bottle, staring at the liquid through the distortion of the glass, then takes a deep breath as though he is building up his courage.>

Leandro: How did the three of you meet?

Dr. Okorie: Roz was in my cohort as a novice thaumaturge. Del was Chief of Security where we worked.

Chief Ibanez: Then lots of people died, and here we are.

<Leandro blinks.>

Ursula: Our people have married outside the village often, of course. And our ancestors did the same.

Dr. Astrauskas: Can't sustain a population that low without exogamy. Not healthily, at least.

Ursula: My point is, you're not the only one to leave home to find love.

Chief Ibanez: I never left home. Home left me.

<She empties her bottle, and claps it to the table with finality.>

Chief Ibanez: Leandro. You offered, now I'm asking. No more secrets.

Ursula: I think that's for the best.

Chief Ibanez: What was the Chaos Insurgency doing in Zevala?

Leandro: They were building something.

Chief Ibanez: I know that. What were they building?

Ursula: We never heard. We never even asked. They shot anyone who said anything they didn't like.

Leandro: Your mother…

<Chief Ibanez raises a hand, a look of warning in her eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: I know more about that than you do. But come on. You were all cooped up in their cages for weeks. You must have learned something.

Leandro: Why is that important? It was so long ago.

Chief Ibanez: Because the Insurgency is toast, but the kind of shit they were into? It lingers. We don't understand why they were so focused on Zevala, and we don't know how they're connected to the rest of what's going on, and we can't very well ask them.

Leandro: Didn't you take any prisoners?

Chief Ibanez: Me?

<She scoffs.>

Chief Ibanez: No.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: And trust me, they had an even bigger taste for cyanide than they had for blue flowers.

<Silence on recording.>

Ursula: I really do not know, Delfina.

Leandro: I do.

Ursula: What?

Leandro: They kept me separate from the others. Made me do things. Tell them things.

<He shakes his head at the implied question in his wife's eyes.>

Leandro: I'm not going to expand on that. It wouldn't do anybody any good to know. What matters is we're all still alive because of it.

Chief Ibanez: Not all of us. Those people you sold us out to—

Leandro: I didn't sell anyone out.

Chief Ibanez: Then who did? How did they find us, d—…?

<She picks up the bottle again, and swills the last few drops. He waits a moment for her to finish, and resume speaking; when she does not, he does.>

Leandro: Mostly what they wanted was information. A lot of it was about the Facility.

Chief Ibanez: Like what?

Leandro: What it did. How it worked. I played dumb, gave them little tidbits here and there like I was only just now putting the pieces together. Stalling until I saw my chance to get away. To get everyone away.

Chief Ibanez: And you heard things?

Leandro: Heard, and saw. They were building something in one of the crevasses. Something big and shiny. And it was taking something out of the air.

Chief Ibanez: Taking what?

Leandro: I don't know. They called it a Hume collector. It was on for weeks, and it chugged through an ungodly amount of fuel. Smoked like a bastard. I think it was draining all the life out of the bay. You remember the sunsets?

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Leandro: They were never the same after that thing was turned on.

Ursula: And the flowers.

Dr. McDoctorate: Stranger-in-the-Mist?

Ursula: They dredged up the entire cargo from the Northern Reach. I know that much.

Leandro: And they fed it all in.

<Dr. McDoctorate suddenly drums the table in triumph. Beneath, Pilar stirs but does not wake.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I knew it! I knew it.

<Dr. Astrauskas leans over, and they share a high-five.>

Leandro: What did you know?

Dr. McDoctorate: I don't have all the right equipment for this — it was only just invented, after all, which is why nobody ever ran the tests before — but I was able to jury-rig some of what I found in the Facility, and it gave us a very strong—

Chief Ibanez: Tonight, Place.

Dr. McDoctorate: We know why the Nigella in the hydroponics worked for all universes, probably.

Leandro: I never figured that out myself. The man who taught me didn't know.

Dr. McDoctorate: It was Dr. Astrauskas who cracked it, really.

Dr. Astrauskas: It was half my magic and half your science. You're much too modest.

Chief Ibanez: He really isn't.

Dr. Okorie: What did you guys figure out, though?

Dr. McDoctorate: That these flowers grow in every dimension. They exist in every dimension. And I don't just mean versions of them. The same flowers. The same instances of the same flowers. They're entangled across the timeplane. They're a multiversal constant. The name is a misnomer; these flowers are strange to nowhere.

<The others exchange glances.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Then again, maybe that's what it means. Strange to nowhere. Strangers only in the mist, the inter-universal gulf where nothing grows but nothing.

<He shakes himself out of his musing.>

Dr. McDoctorate: But that's why they give visions. They're connected to every reality.

Chief Ibanez: The same flowers blooming under every sun.

Ursula: That's beautiful.

Leandro: And I let you wear them in your hair.

Ursula: That's beautiful, too.

<He looks away. There are tears in his eyes.>

Dr. Okorie: But what does that have to do with the hydroponics?

Dr. McDoctorate: Nigella grown in the Facility aren't in any universe. It's a pocket all its own. They're Hume-neutral, and can access the entire set without corrupting the data with local identifiers. That's why they let the TLP get a fix on so many coordinates, and you just have to pick one and see where it goes.

Dr. Okorie: Maybe that's what the time dilation was for, too. Maybe it was intentional.

Dr. McDoctorate: Hmm?

Dr. Okorie: So the Facility could regrow its crop without taking up thirty years real-time.

<His eyes widen.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I really do love how smart we all are. You know that?

Leandro: I don't think I will ever understand how people like you exist.

Dr. McDoctorate: Thank you!

<Dr. Okorie nudges Dr. McDoctorate.>

Dr. Okorie: What was your secret little chat with Del about? Before she went out to kill the dragon?

Dr. Astrauskas: Isn't it obvious? He told her to kill the dragon so the sword could power up and bring the plants back to life.

Chief Ibanez: That was my idea. He said it wouldn't work.

Dr. Okorie: But… it did work.

Dr. McDoctorate: Powering up the sword was only half of it. Leandro wasn't lying when he said the plants didn't grow well here. That's because their leyline wasn't reliable.

Dr. Astrauskas: There is no leyline. We established that.

Dr. Okorie: But then they could never have grown at all. Wait a fucking second.

<Chief Ibanez snorts.>

Chief Ibanez: Do you get it?

Dr. Okorie: No way.

Chief Ibanez: Do you get it?

Leandro: What?

Dr. Okorie: Ambulatory leylines.

Leandro: What?

Dr. Okorie: The dragon?

Chief Ibanez: The dragon.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: I do wish I could have seen it.

<Leandro grimaces.>

Leandro: You can have my memories.

Dr. Astrauskas: Not in my skillset. That's Udo's territory.

Leandro: Huh?

Dr. Okorie: It's a shame none of the camera footage is clear.

Chief Ibanez: I'll make sure to bring a Steadicam next time.

Ursula: Well, Pilar drew this.

<She places a sketch on the table.>

Extranormal Entity, rendering by SCP-8273-2.

Dr. McDoctorate: Oh. Wow.

Dr. Okorie: You fought that?

<Chief Ibanez glances over the sketch. She whistles appreciatively.>

Chief Ibanez: More or less. Looked a little different close-up, and I think there were more wings. Fatter mouth? Might just have been my… forced perspective.

Leandro: Pilar drew this? It's beautiful.

Ursula: You should see the wood carvings Saray has been working on.

<Silence on recording.>

Ursula: You really should have just come back home, you silly man.

<Leandro flushes, and turns to Chief Ibanez.>

Leandro: What artistic talents have you picked up? Since this is apparently a family of prodigies.

Chief Ibanez: Harpsichord. I got into the Royal Academy, but had to defer for a semester so I could see the worlds.

Ursula: If I might interrupt. Your plan was to kill the dragon, Delfina. His plan was also to kill the dragon. Why did he say your plan wouldn't work?

Dr. McDoctorate: Her plan was to kill it for the wrong reason. Intentionality matters—

Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie: [simultaneously] —when it comes to magic.

Leandro: This is insanity.

Chief Ibanez: Why did you think I lured it to the plantation before killing it?

<Leandro purses his lips.>

Leandro: Honestly?

<She nods.>

Leandro: I thought you wanted to frighten me.

<All laugh.>

Dr. McDoctorate: It does mean we really do have to be moving on, though.

Ursula: Why?

Dr. McDoctorate: Because that thing was more than just a living leyline. I got the data from the atmospheric collectors we set up around the ridge, and compared it to the dragon guts on Delfina's ruined clothing, and—

Chief Ibanez: You went through my laundry?

Dr. McDoctorate: Woman, I was doing your laundry.

<All laugh.>

Dr. McDoctorate: The dragon was algal. It was a spore-creature. The same spores we see in the sky every morning and every night.

Dr. Astrauskas: By the same, you mean—

Dr. McDoctorate: I mean the air we breath is dragon's breath. Yes.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Okorie: I thought they were getting pretty thick, these last couple days.

Dr. McDoctorate: You slew this world's primordial deity, Chief. Or one of them. No matter what else happens next, nothing will be the same. Your coming marked the end of this world's mythical age. The advent of heroes.

Dr. Astrauskas: Mother of the future.

Dr. Okorie: Prometheus with a sword.

<Chief Ibanez looks up at the ceiling, reflectively.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I didn't mean to harsh your buzz with an inconvenient truth.

<She shoots him a dirty look.>

Chief Ibanez: I can't think of anything to say about that.

Dr. Astrauskas: Segue!

Chief Ibanez: Segue! What were we… right. The machine. The other one. The one the Insurgency was making. What did it do?

Leandro: Calculations, I heard. Lots and lots of calculations.

Dr. McDoctorate: Calculations they could only do in Zevala.

Dr. Astrauskas: Or with something unique to its environment.

Dr. Okorie: Particles in the air. The stuff I was detecting.

Chief Ibanez: The festivals.

Ursula: What?

Chief Ibanez: What were the festivals? What were they really?

<Ursula and Leandro exchange a glance.>

Ursula: We took the village…

Leandro: Elsewhere.

Chief Ibanez: I saw the sky change.

Leandro: Of course you did.

Chief Ibanez: Why? Why do that?

Ursula: It's what we've always done. The Prophets started it.

Leandro: It helped protect us. Replenished our defences. Put something in the air that fed the machine that strengthened the dome.

Chief Ibanez: You'd stopped doing it by the time I was a teenager.

Leandro: The machine was too far gone by then, and we didn't know how to repair it.

Ursula: That's not entirely true. We didn't exactly lose sleep over the decision. We already thought it was too dangerous.

Leandro: We thought the defences were strong enough already.

Ursula: We thought it would bring unwanted attention.

Chief Ibanez: The Insurgency?

Leandro: The Foundation.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: But that's what let them in, isn't it?

Leandro: Maybe. Probably. If you ask me, Dom Magnusson sold us out.

Dr. Okorie: Who?

Chief Ibanez: Captain of the Northern Reach. If he was in on it, he sure got paid for his trouble.

Dr. Okorie: Is this why the dome hardened before it fell? Why nothing could go in or out? Was that a symptom of it failing, because you didn't keep it fuelled up?

Dr. McDoctorate: That's one possibility. It might also have been reacting to the firefight in the sky, closing up shop to protect everyone.

Chief Ibanez: Worked great, didn't it.

Ursula: What does it matter? What does one more thing that went wrong matter in the long litany? Can't you just let these things go?

Leandro: She's right to question us. We kept so much from them all.

Chief Ibanez: All I care about is seeing this thing through. If the Insurgency was building a machine that ran on the emissions of the Facility, or the air in the alternate dimensions…

<Her eyes suddenly widen, and her mouth snaps shut.>

Dr. Okorie: No.

Dr. Astrauskas: Alternate dimensions.

Dr. McDoctorate: Multiversal data sets.

Dr. Okorie: The flowers.

Dr. Astrauskas: The aura variations.

Chief Ibanez: Fuel. Churning.

Dr. Okorie: Calculations.

Dr. McDoctorate: Probability.

Dr. Okorie: No.

Dr. Astrauskas: Are we saying…

Dr. McDoctorate: It's the only logical explanation. And the timeline works.

<Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie each look as though they wish to speak next, but something is holding them back.>

<Chief Ibanez makes eye contact with all three in turn, then finally nods.>

Chief Ibanez: That's it, then.

<They nod back, one by one.>

Chief Ibanez: It's the Engine. They were building the Engine.

<Leandro and Ursula are looking back and forth between the four of them.

Leandro: What Engine?

Chief Ibanez: Never mind. I understand now. It let them triangulate. Build up a sort of… cosmic cheat sheet. Visions of the future. Visions they could act on. Oh, Jesus.

Dr. Okorie: What?

Chief Ibanez: This changed everything. This changed everything.

<Drs. Astrauskas, McDoctorate and Okorie are in obvious shock. None speak until Chief Ibanez prompts them again.>

Chief Ibanez: Zevala is the reason the Insurgency couped itself.

Dr. McDoctorate: Reorganized around the Engine.

Dr. Okorie: Change.

Dr. Astrauskas: Change.

Chief Ibanez: Delta Command.

<Dr. Okorie whistles.>

Leandro: What does all this mean?

Chief Ibanez: It means you gave the worst people in the world a road map to conquest.

Ursula: Conquest of what?

Chief Ibanez: Everything.

Leandro: But you said they were destroyed.

Dr. McDoctorate: The Engine predicted the future for them, but its predictions stopped being correct a couple years back. Very badly. Something else intervened, and changed the nature of causality. We're still trying to determine what.

Chief Ibanez: But that doesn't matter, not in this context. The Insurgency were only the hand of something bigger. Only one hand. And they rowed us a long, long way down the river before we cut that hand off.

Ursula: Is there anything we can do to fix it?

Chief Ibanez: There's one thing.

<She stands, walks to the icebox, and begins retrieving a new set of green bottles.>

Chief Ibanez: It's time we brought those sunsets back to Argentina.

Chief Ibanez: How did you make sense of it?

Dr. Astrauskas: Hmm?

Chief Ibanez: The thing with the flowers?

Dr. Astrauskas: Oh.

<Dr. Astrauskas yawns.>

Dr. Astrauskas: You're not the only one who learned a new thing in that Facility. I tried something I've never tried before.

Chief Ibanez: Don't keep me in suspense. I'll snap before I bend.

<Silence on recording.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Engineering joke.

Chief Ibanez: Engineering joke.

Dr. Astrauskas: I read the aura of the flowers we brought with us.

Chief Ibanez: Flowers have auras?

Dr. Astrauskas: Most living things do, but not as complex when they aren't sapient. It only occurred to me to look when I saw the Leading Edge had one. I just wondered. And what I saw was the most incredible little constellation of interlocking Hume spirals you can imagine.

Chief Ibanez: I can't imagine that at all.

Dr. Astrauskas: I'll draw you a pretty diagram when we get back. Suffice to say I had to go on antipsychotics after. It was… a strain.

<Chief Ibanez reaches out and interlocks their fingers. A tear rolls down Dr. Astrauskas' cheek.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Dr. Astrauskas: They find each other. The flowers. Across all that empty. They stay connected. Entangled. It's…

Chief Ibanez: Yeah.

<Dr. Astrauskas clears her throat.>

Dr. Astrauskas: So after I saw that, I went back down to hydroponics, and checked out all those dead twigs. Hume spirals leave a residuum which lasts a good long while after death, but it should have run out by now. Luckily, time in here is all screwy, so.

Chief Ibanez: Declension and elevation. You could see they'd been using flowers from other dimensions, and storing them alive in the hydroponics.

Dr. Astrauskas: I could. It was only a few out of thousands, probably just as an insurance policy. But I knew.

Chief Ibanez: Still a bit of a logical leap, wasn't it? I mean, presumably they were growing plants across the multiverse for practical purposes too. Not wanting to rely on the Facility's freezer. That didn't necessarily mean it was a requirement.

Dr. Astrauskas: No, you're right. I did make an educated guess.

Chief Ibanez: Based on what?

Dr. Astrauskas: Your father seemed so guilty. I knew he couldn't be telling the truth. The way he told it, it wasn't his fault.

<Chief Ibanez embraces her where they lie.>

Chief Ibanez: Roz, there's a lot you don't know about how guilt works, and I hope you never do.

<Dr. Okorie embraces her from behind.>

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Flora aura.

Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie: [simultaneously] Shut up.

<Laughter.>

<Transcript ends.>

The following morning, the sun visibly rose over Puerto Extirpado for the first time. The haze had shifted from the horizon to the hills around the village, spores wafting in on the breeze.

After a brief vigil to observe this phenomenon, the villagers were evacuated to Facility-34. Dr. McDoctorate and his technicians prepared to return the Facility to baseline reality, with Leandro providing the requisite data to include the village's standing structures in the transference. Two hours before the scheduled transit, Ursula asked a favour of Chief Ibanez.

<Transcript begins.>

<Ursula approaches Chief Ibanez.>

Chief Ibanez: Everybody settled?

Ursula: Unsettled. But that's the idea, right?

Chief Ibanez: Yeah. Where's Pilar?

Ursula: And your father?

<Chief Ibanez shrugs.>

Ursula: Speaking with your wives.

<Chief Ibanez grimaces.>

Chief Ibanez: Any chance you could break that up?

Ursula: I propose a trade of favours.

Chief Ibanez: Saving your asses isn't enough?

Ursula: You're doing that as much for yourself as for us, I think.

<Silence on recording.>

Ursula: There is something I would like to try.

Chief Ibanez: Shoot.

Saray: Bang!

<The adults look down at her. She grins sheepishly.>

Ursula: I have never had a vision between worlds.

<Chief Ibanez looks back up at her.>

Chief Ibanez: I've never had strawberry shortcake.

Ursula: It's very good. I could make you some, if you like. Just need the strawberries.

Saray: What's a strawberry?

Chief Ibanez: What would be different about having a vision mid-transit?

Ursula: On the other side, the visions are locked to the future of that world. I wonder if maybe…

Chief Ibanez: You can get something of more cosmic significance in between.

Ursula: That's right.

Chief Ibanez: You don't need to be somewhere to be somewhere.

Ursula: What?

Chief Ibanez: Nothing. What makes you so confident these visions are accurate? Nothing I've seen is falsifiable. It's all either vague stuff, or stuff we don't yet understand.

Ursula: We have seen one thing which came to pass precisely as foretold.

Chief Ibanez: Which is what?

<Ursula looks down at Saray again.>

<Chief Ibanez puts her hand on the little girl's shoulders, and steers her away.>

Chief Ibanez: Go play in traffic.

Saray: What's traffic?

<Chief Ibanez points at Dr. McDoctorate, who is attempting to pass through the throng without being drawn into conversation.>

Chief Ibanez: That's traffic. Go get him.

<Saray bounds off toward Dr. McDoctorate, who attempts to force a smile as he notices her approaching.>

Chief Ibanez: One vision came true.

Ursula: Yes.

Chief Ibanez: What did you see?

Ursula: The destruction of Zevala.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: No.

Ursula: Yes.

<Chief Ibanez sits down on the bench, next to SCP-6500-SWORD, then immediately stands up again and begins pacing.>

Chief Ibanez: No. Don't tell me you knew that was going to happen.

Ursula: We did.

Chief Ibanez: Who's 'we'?

Ursula: Your mother and I.

<Chief Ibanez stops in her tracks.>

Chief Ibanez: She… you…?

Ursula: She was one of the seers, yes. We saw it together.

Chief Ibanez: You knew the Insurgency was going to come.

Ursula: Yes.

Chief Ibanez: Did you know when?

Ursula: No.

Chief Ibanez: But you still could have stopped it.

Ursula: Possibly.

Chief Ibanez: And you didn't even try.

Ursula: That's right. That was the last vision she ever had.

Chief Ibanez: When?

Ursula: About a year before you were born.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: She knew she was going to die?

Ursula: We didn't see the details. Just the fire in the sky, reflected on the bay. But we understood the meaning.

Chief Ibanez: How could you let it happen?

Ursula: Because we knew we couldn't fail our responsibility to the future twice. We understood the rules too well. Reality would unravel.

<Ursula wipes at her eyes.>

Chief Ibanez: So, the attack was your penance. Paid by everyone I ever knew.

<She glances at SCP-6500-SWORD, as though considering drawing it from its sheathe.>

Chief Ibanez: Did my mother…

Ursula: She wanted to flee. She thought about taking you all and running, maybe securing passage with one of the smuggler ships.

Chief Ibanez: Why didn't she?

Ursula: We had the vision together, but we didn't see precisely the same things. She said… she knew you needed to stay. You needed to be there for it.

Chief Ibanez: Why? Why was it so important we be there when the sky fell?

<Ursula shakes her head.>

Ursula: Not all of you. Not your sister, or your brothers. Only you. And…

Chief Ibanez: What?

Ursula: If she defied the visions, where could she flee to? And what would she be leaving behind? She told me… she told me she couldn't destroy your world. It came down to that, in the end.

Chief Ibanez: My world was destroyed anyway.

Ursula: Not all of it.

<Chief Ibanez clenches her jaw.>

Chief Ibanez: If this is your attempt to convince me there's something to this bullshit, you took completely the wrong tack.

Ursula: Trust your mother, Fina.

Chief Ibanez: Fina is dead, and so is my mother.

Ursula: She believed so strongly in you, she was willing to die just to give you a chance. A fighting chance. Do this for her. Let me do this for her.

<Chief Ibanez sighs.>

Chief Ibanez: I just don't see why we need to give ourselves an obligation to the future. Feels like an unforced error.

Ursula: Delfina, our biggest mistake was forgetting that we always have an obligation to the future.

<Silence on recording.>

Chief Ibanez: Fine. I'll ask Place if he can suss out how the handbrake works. But try to make it a nice vision, alright? I can't even keep all these god damn revelations straight in my head as it is.

<Ursula places a hand on her shoulder.>

Ursula: Tomorrow is a promise, but I'm afraid I can't make any.

<Chief Ibanez pulls out her data pad, and scans a schematic of the Facility.>

Chief Ibanez: Guess we'll have to settle for making the future itself.

Ursula: You've been talking to Pilar.

Chief Ibanez: Listening. There's a difference.

<Chief Ibanez is sitting in a wooden dining chair, watching as the older woman crushes a single specimen of N. cerritulus with a stone mortar and pestle.>

Chief Ibanez: Place says running the stabilization cycle should be enough. We don't need to pull an actual transit for your vision. We should be partially de-realized now, and it'll last about twenty minutes.

Ursula: That's good. I'd like to be there with the others to witness when we finally leave home for good.

<The door to the room opens, and Chief Ibanez turns to see Pilar.>

Chief Ibanez: I didn't tell anyone where we went.

Pilar: You didn't have to. You're the local celebrity. Everyone knows where you are.

<She sits down on the couch beside her mother.>

Ursula: You don't need to be here for this. It might get… strange.

Pilar: I hope so.

Chief Ibanez: You have something in mind?

Pilar: I want to share the vision.

<Ursula stares at her.>

Pilar: Well?

Ursula: I was going to tell you 'no'.

Pilar: You usually do.

Chief Ibanez: I thought you didn't do the visions anymore.

Pilar: She doesn't. I mean in general.

<Ursula sighs.>

Ursula: You're an adult, and it is your birthright. And we might learn something interesting if we try.

Chief Ibanez: How's that?

Ursula: She's not from Earth at all. She was born in Puerto Extirpado. It's possible she'll bring something even more foreign to the vision.

Chief Ibanez: It's not possible this could hurt her, though. Right?

<Pilar smiles warmly at her.>

Ursula: I wouldn't consider letting her try if it was. Your Rozálie tells me we're human, adults and children all. Nothing physiologically different. There are virtually no physical side effects to these plants.

<She picks up a decanter of blue liquid from the coffee table, and mixes it with the crushed leaves.>

Pilar: How do we do this?

Ursula: Draw your finger through the bowl, then place the mixture on your tongue. That's all.

Pilar: No mystical chants?

Chief Ibanez: We could pipe in 'Don't Cry For Me, Argentina' if you think it'd calm you down.

Pilar: What's Argentina?

<Silence on recording.>

<Chief Ibanez and Ursula laugh.>

Pilar: What?

Chief Ibanez: And yet she knows what Italy is.

Pilar: No, I just said I did to speed up your pointless metaphor.

<Chief Ibanez raises an eyebrow.>

Ursula: Are you ready?

<Pilar straightens her back on the couch, and nods.>

<Ursula reaches around her daughter's shoulders and presses her down until she relaxes again, then holds the mortar out to her.>

<Both women draw a portion of the mixture from the bowl, and press it to their tongues. They sit back on the couch, and share a look.>

<Chief Ibanez looks back and forth between the two of them.>

Chief Ibanez: When does it start?

<Mother and daughter are still staring at each other, intently. Their eyes begin moving rapidly.>

Chief Ibanez: Oh.

Ursula: I see infinity.

Chief Ibanez: That's a lot.

<Neither woman gives any physiological sign that she can hear Chief Ibanez.>

Ursula: All is colour and brilliance. I can see farther than the farthest light. I can see each mote of dust. I am at the heart of all things.

<Pilar winces, but says nothing.>

Ursula: They are arguing.

Chief Ibanez: Who's arguing?

<Ursula squints. She looks afraid.>

Ursula: Oh, they are angry. They are both so very angry.

Chief Ibanez: I should have had Udo put her brain reader thing in your skulls.

Ursula: I can see you, Pilar, I think. I see a silhouette, watching them.

<Still Pilar does not speak.>

Ursula: They are apart. They have been set apart.

<She smiles wickedly.>

Ursula: It worked. It really worked.

Chief Ibanez: Your plan? The old plan? Why am I talking to myself.

<Ursula suddenly starts. Her eyes roll back in her skull.>

Ursula: I don't understand.

<Chief Ibanez leans in, but does not ask another question.>

Ursula: I don't… I don't understand. Why are you doing that, Pilar?

<Pilar is twitching, and clenching the surface of the couch cushion she sits on.>

Ursula: No!

<Her eyes snap open.>

<She looks at Pilar.>

<Pilar is weeping.>

<Ursula draws her daughter into an embrace, and begins singing softly into her ear. Her voice is too quiet to be discerned.>

<Pilar awakens, and clutches desperately at her mother.>

Chief Ibanez: What did you see? Both of you?

<Ursula looks at her, clearly troubled.>

Ursula: Did you hear what I said?

Chief Ibanez: I heard.

Ursula: The stars were wheeling all around, and I was watching them fall. Not the stars, but them.

Chief Ibanez: The brothers.

<Ursula nods.>

Ursula: We had placed them there. I knew this. But there was something else out there, something hungry, and…

<She cries out.>

Ursula: We make it worse. Delfina, we are going to make it so much worse.

Chief Ibanez: You said you saw Pilar. Was she the hungry thing?

<Ursula shakes her head emphatically.>

Ursula: When we see each other, in the vision, we take the form of one of its subjects. That's all it was. It doesn't mean anything.

Chief Ibanez: Okay.

Ursula: It doesn't mean anything.

Chief Ibanez: Okay. What did you see, Pilar?

<Pilar shrugs. Her eyes are haunted.>

Pilar: I saw what she saw.

<Ursula squeezes her tightly.>

Ursula: The first time is always hard. You did well, Pilar. As I knew you would.

<Ursula lets go of Pilar and stands, brushing her hands on her dress.>

Ursula: I need to go see what Saray is doing.

Chief Ibanez: Good idea. She's too much like me.

<Ursula smiles sadly.>

Ursula: They both are.

<With a meaningful look at Pilar, she leaves the dormitory, closing the door behind her.>

<Pilar shudders.>

Chief Ibanez: You lie to her very often?

<Pilar stares at her, then bursts into laughter. It is high and almost manic.>

Chief Ibanez: What did you see?

Pilar: I didn't see any of what she saw.

<She takes a deep breath, and shudders.>

Pilar: I was standing on the shore of a lake. It was blue. I've never seen a blue lake before, or a blue sky. But sometimes the sky wasn't blue. Sometimes it was red, and sometimes black, and there was no lake at all, and the world was just this endless mass of boxes on boxes on boxes, and sometimes everything crawled, and… I saw all of you.

Chief Ibanez: All of who?

Pilar: You. Your people. I've never seen them before, but I knew who they were. There were so many of them, but it was never enough.

Chief Ibanez: It has to be enough.

Pilar: It won't be.

Chief Ibanez: I promise you—

Pilar: I saw you die.

<Chief Ibanez shrugs.>

Chief Ibanez: Okay.

<Pilar's eyes widen, and her brows knit.>

Pilar: Okay?! How is that okay?!

Chief Ibanez: I've never been afraid to die. The first time I realized I could, I didn't care. I haven't started caring since.

<Pilar examines her sister's face.>

Pilar: Is that true?

<She shakes her head. Her breathing is rapid and uneven. She appears to be near to a panic attack.>

<Chief Ibanez reaches out and takes her hand.>

Pilar: But it's not what I meant. Delfina.

Chief Ibanez: Then what did you mean?

Pilar: I mean I saw you die.

<Silence on recording.>

Pilar: All of you.

<Transcript ends.>

In final preparation for the transit, the Extirpadans engaged in their unsevering ritual in the foyer of Facility-34. There is no documentation or recording testifying to the nature of this ritual, as by their request no Foundation personnel were to attend the ceremony — save for Chief Ibanez.

She declined to offer testimony about what she saw and heard, though she did make a few brief observations in the presence of Dr. Okorie.

<Transcript begins.>

<Dr. Okorie is waiting in the hall when Chief Ibanez emerges, looking dazed. The Extirpadans are collecting their effects again, and speaking with each other in hushed tones.>

<Chief Ibanez spits a single blue seed into a trash bin by the door.>

Dr. Okorie: You okay?

<Chief Ibanez nods.>

Dr. Okorie: What's wrong?

Chief Ibanez: It's just…

<She staggers to the nearest bench, and sits down on it heavily.>

Dr. Okorie: Del?

Chief Ibanez: I already knew it, but know I… now I know it. I can feel it. For certain.

Dr. Okorie: What? What do you know?

Chief Ibanez: That's why it left me behind.

<Dr. Okorie waits for clarification.>

Chief Ibanez: I wasn't there for the ritual when they left me. I was still severed.

<Dr. Okorie sits down, and puts her arms around her.>

Dr. Okorie: But you stayed connected anyway.

<The two embrace.>

Dr. Okorie: And you've been making more connections ever since.

<Chief Ibanez sighs.>

Dr. Okorie: And showing me up, in the process.

<Chief Ibanez pulls back, and looks up at Dr. Okorie in confusion.>

Dr. Okorie: I meet one long-lost sister, you've got to one-up me and find two.

<Chief Ibanez laughs, then shoves Dr. Okorie back to her side of the bench.>

<Dr. Astrauskas rounds the corner, sees the two of them, and smiles broadly.>

Chief Ibanez: You want some too?

<Dr. Astrauskas continues to smile, and says nothing.>

Chief Ibanez: What. Am I wearing something of yours?

Dr. Okorie: Roz?

Dr. Astrauskas: Remember what I said about your Hume spirals being broken?

<With the ritual complete, all personnel reported ready for the TLP's activation.>

Pilar: What about the bodies?

<Ursula frowns.>

Ursula: What?

Pilar: They're not alive, and they're… still biological. You know what I mean. The machine won't target them, will it? Are we leaving them behind? In the graveyard?

<Chief Ibanez glances back at them.>

<Leandro has difficulty speaking. His voice is hoarse.>

Leandro: We're not leaving them behind, big fish. They're coming with us.

<He raises her hand, and presses it against his heart.>

Leandro: Always with us.

<Pilar bites her upper lip.>

Dr. McDoctorate: All green.

<Pilar turns away from her father, eyes shining.>

Pilar: Story of my life.

<Chief Ibanez glances back at her, a glint in her eye.>

Ursula: We can always come back, you know. It's not forever.

Leandro: No.

<The entire group turns to look at him.>

Leandro: This is the last trip.

<He makes eye contact with Chief Ibanez as Pilar and Ursula hold his hands tighter.>

<She nods.>

<She turns back to the console.>

Chief Ibanez: Let's go home.

<She presses the button.>

<As before, the TLP spins to life, and reality collapses like a television signal before abruptly reasserting itself. The process takes no more than one minute, though time is severely dilated.>

<The light subsides, and the machine spins back down. The group exchange glances.>

Chief Ibanez: Welcome back to b—

<There is an earsplitting CRACK, and the floor shakes.>

<Chief Ibanez reaches for her radio as it crackles to life. The voice of Captain Seon Ji-Hun fills the air.>

Captain Seon: Delta-6500, that had better be you.

<There is a second CRACK, now obviously representing a distant explosion. The next is not so distant; the lights flicker, and one of the ceiling tiles falls. Pilar screams.>

Dr. Okorie: What the hell is—

Chief Ibanez: This is Delta-6500 actual! Report!

Captain Seon: Aerial assault. Bombers with fighter escort. Lost contact with sentries in the forest, might be ground pounders on their way too. No positive ID yet.

Chief Ibanez: Who else could it be?

Dr. Astrauskas: It can't be. Not anymore.

Chief Ibanez: What planet have you been living on? There's no not anymore anymore. This is just the way shit is now.

<She thumbs the radio again.>

Chief Ibanez: Hold the line, cap. We'll back you up.

Captain Seon: Never any doubts, Chief.

Chief Ibanez: You hearing this, Nasty?

<Agent Koslova's voice comes over the radio.>

Agent Koslova: Loud and.

Chief Ibanez: You and Georgiy get to the Zevala-side airlock. You're gonna have civilians to protect.

Agent Koslova: Roger roger.

<Chief Ibanez gathers the scientists in a huddle while the Pelaez family look on, terrified and confused.>

Chief Ibanez: Roz, you watch the villagers. Use your juju to identify anybody who looks like they're gonna try and be a hero.

Dr. Astrauskas: I can already see at least one.

Chief Ibanez: Place, the dome defence.

Dr. McDoctorate: Still pooched. Take months to reverse-engineer.

Chief Ibanez: Then coordinate evacuation. You've got survey data for the gulch, right?

Dr. McDoctorate: Right.

Chief Ibanez: There's a cave off the main drag, just a few hundred metres from the exit.

Dr. Okorie: Caves collapse.

Chief Ibanez: You can strengthen it on the way, while you close the gulley roof so we don't get torn to ribbons on the way out.

<Dr. Okorie reaches for her reagents pouch.>

Dr. Okorie: Too bloody right I can.

<Chief Ibanez looks past the huddle, to the Pelaez family.>

Chief Ibanez: Pilar, you make sure everyone sticks together. Including Roz. And take care of your sister.

Pilar: What are you going to do?

Chief Ibanez: Same thing I did last time. Only better.

Dr. Okorie: You're not going to try make me stay, too?

<Chief Ibanez catches Saray's eye. The little girl has produced one of her knotty green sticks from somewhere; she raises it over her head, and smiles.>

<Chief Ibanez grins at her.>

Chief Ibanez: Fuck no. I learned my lesson. This time the Warrior and the Warlock take one path, together.

<She grabs Dr. Okorie's hand, and pulls her out of the control room in the direction of the armoury.>

Chief Ibanez: You and me are gonna rebaptize Zevala.

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-16, Battle of Zevala: Chief Ibanez acquired a set of powered armour from the Facility-34 lockup, matching the set she donned during the original Operation TAILWIND KITE, before exiting the Facility with Dr. Okorie. They emerged into a battle already in progress between unidentified assailants and Foundation operatives, including the support personnel for Delta-6500 and first responders including MTFs Dseda-8 ("Desperta Ferro"), Delta-4 ("Minutemen"), Delta-45 ("Rolling Thunder"), and Sigma-9 ("Valkyries"). The battle had begun approximately one hour prior with the tracking of a large aerial force of unknown origin across the Andes Mountains and proceeding rapidly to Caleta San Roque. Immediate casualties on both sides were extremely high, with the attackers engaging in reckless, often self-destructive behaviour. The battle was complicated by the sudden reappearance of the entire village of Zevala on its former footprint, including the remains of the old Chaos Insurgency fortifications and a variety of new structures constructed in the interim; the attackers began indiscriminately firing on and bombing the Zevalan shacks as well, though they also began concentrating particular firepower on the gulch now containing Facility-34. A combination of Foundation resistance and geography prevented serious damage from being inflicted as the Facility resettled in baseline reality, though fighting continued to be fierce.

Dr. Okorie provided cover for Dr. McDoctorate to evacuate the Extirpadans from Facility-34 and secure them in the cave indicated by Chief Ibanez. She then joined the Chief at the mouth of the gulch, looking out on the beach and the bay beyond.

<Transcript begins.>

<The sun is setting, and the sky is streaked with smoke. Two high-tech aircraft, one a Foundation Valkyrie and the other a ramshackle amalgam of a variety of airframe components, collide in midair with an ear-shattering explosion. Pieces of melted metal and polymer fall into the bay, which is already sizzling with debris. The hulk of the Northern Reach groans as it resettles in the new geography, slipping deeper beneath the water; only the stern is now visible.>

Chief Ibanez: Is there a thaumaturge classification past Class-4?

Dr. Okorie: If there is, it's classified, so I don't know! I don't think so?

Chief Ibanez: Then that's our goal here.

Dr. Okorie: What is?

Chief Ibanez: Make them make one.

<Dr. Okorie stares at her, then grins and nods.>

<Planes whir overhead. A new squadron of attackers is approaching from the west, over the rim of the cliffs. Chief Ibanez points at them, then at herself, then up at the open sky.>

<Dr. Okorie blinks.>

<Chief Ibanez presses her helmet to Dr. Okorie's forehead.>

Chief Ibanez: Let slip.

<Dr. Okorie's eyes widen as Chief Ibanez steps back, reaches over her shoulder, and draws SCP-6500-SWORD.>

<Dr. Okorie takes a handful of vim harenae from her reagents pouch, and sprinkles it on the ground. The soil is a mixture of the brown of Caleta San Roque and trace amounts of green from Puerto Extirpado. The red grains mix with the brown and green, and a mass of particles surrounds Chief Ibanez and lifts her off the ground.>

<Dr. Okorie turns to face the planes, hands raised, and flexes her fingers.>

<There are now dozens of craft in the air. The attackers are chipping away relentlessly at the gulch. Captain Seon is heard over Chief Ibanez's suit radio:>

Captain Seon: All assets, Code Pyre on grid 7. Code Pyre, grid 7.

<Dr. McDoctorate eases an outwardly-unresponsive Dr. Okorie into his arms. As he is doing this, a heavily modified black transport helicopter swings into position, and begins firing heavy rounds from a door-mounted rotary cannon. Dseda-8 personnel return fire, forming a protective perimeter around the mouth of the gulch, but many are mowed down where they stand due to the lack of cover. Rock faces burst from the ground to protect the casualties, courtesy Dr. Okorie, and medics move in to provide first aid.>

<Chief Ibanez is lifted toward the helicopter.>

Chief Ibanez: Not the door! My armour won't— WHAT ARE YOU—

<The attackers at the mouth of the gulch disappear as a second orbital cannon shot reduces a wide stretch of beach to gleaming green glass.>

The Battle of Zevala.

Chief Ibanez: Can't you do math?

<She engages the belligerents, cackling as SCP-6500-SWORD catches fire and continues to burn for the remainder of the encounter, which lasts approximately twenty-two seconds.>

<Spores are rising from the burning structures in the village, and the horizon subtly shifts to a more complex spectrum incorporating magenta and gold.>

Chief Ibanez: Confirm evacuation.

<Dr. McDoctorate's voice comes over the radio as Chief Ibanez heads for the nearest gun emplacement, where Foundation agents have been overrun by enemy troops in a wild variety of inappropriate camouflage patterns.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Almost everyone. Udo's unconscious.

Captain Seon: Opposing force in disorderly rout.

<Another voice breaks in.>

Voice: Valkyrie-1 here. We show armour moving in on the ridge around the Facility. Need orbital support, our rounds can't penetrate.

Captain Seon: Can't fire the OWP again without risking the Masq. Two was pushing it already.

Chief Ibanez: And we can't lose the TLP. We cannot lose that machine, people. Sound off!

<A series of quick responses indicate that no Foundation personnel are available or able to intercept the new attackers.>

<Chief Ibanez has reached the gun emplacement. She beheads the nearest enemy, and his corpse catches fire.>

Chief Ibanez: EYES CLOSED!

Chief Ibanez: I need ten minutes. Buy me ten minutes!

Captain Seon: That's a negative, Chief, no assets in the vicinity.

Chief Ibanez: Somebody! Place—

Dr. McDoctorate: I think she'll die if I try to wake her up.

Dr. Astrauskas: Del!

Chief Ibanez: What?!

Dr. Astrauskas: Your dad—

<Yet another voice cuts in on the same channel.>

Leandro: Tell your planes to wave off! All of them!

<Chief Ibanez is moving up the northeastern rise, pounding divots into the earth with the force of her footfalls. She is bounding, barely touching the ground, but she is not out of breath.>

Chief Ibanez: What are you doing?

Leandro: Did you know this place came with an instruction manual?

Dr. McDoctorate: Don't you fucking dare say—

Leandro: I burned it, with the flowers.

Chief Ibanez: What are you doing?

Leandro: Exercising my Directorial privilege. Are you running right now?

Chief Ibanez: Of course I'm fucking running!

Leandro: Stop.

<She runs faster. Her HUD shows internal stress and rising heat levels as the motors struggle to keep up.>

Chief Ibanez: Never do.

Leandro: It's okay. I need you to stop running before I do this.

Chief Ibanez: Not on your life.

Leandro: Fina! STOP!

Chief Ibanez: NO!

Dr. McDoctorate: Ow! Jesus!

Dr. Astrauskas: Oh my god…

Dr. Okorie: [weakly] I've got you.

Dr. Astrauskas: Udo!

Chief Ibanez: What's wrong? I can't see! Roz?

Leandro: Is she stopped?

Dr. Okorie: She's stopped…

Leandro: Good.

<A sudden whine fills the air, audible across the bay.>

Chief Ibanez: Dad…

Leandro: I told you, Fina.

<The whine rises in intensity, and the final message can barely be discerned.>

Leandro: This is the last trip.

<Chief Ibanez's HUD flickers out.>

<She is weeping.>

<Behind her, the Northern Reach slides silently beneath the surface of the bay.>

<Transcript ends.>

Addendum 8273-17, Aftermath: Minutes after the destruction of Facility-34, a message was received at Foundation facilities across the globe. Taking advantage of a security vulnerability (since closed), all personnel were for a brief period able to access this message. A reproduction is appended below.

The sun is shining.

But your shadow thins on the dial, as we pass from the daylight hours.
You turn to witness the final light, and we rise to deny you its closure.

The look on your faces!

We are Chaos Resurgent.

No more daisies and dance steps. We bring an abyss.

You deny us nothing: a charnel pit, and hollow men.
He gives us everything.

We deny you the pattern.
He sees it still.

All prophets are used.

This sun will forget you.
The next will never know.

SIX. SEVEN. SEVEN.

The Emergent Threat Tactical Response Authority is presently considering the implications of the above.

Chief Ibanez found her armour permanently disabled by the electromagnetic pulse attending the destruction of Facility-34. As such she quickly dismantled the suit, and made her way to the gulch and its attached cave on foot at a rapid pace.

<Transcript begins.>

<Chief Ibanez appears, puffing, having run at a constant rate of speed across nearly half the length of the plateau.>

<Dr. Astrauskas waves from the eastern end.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Del!

Chief Ibanez: Oh my god.

Chief Ibanez: Oh my god.

<Leandro's eyes open, and he looks up at his daughter.>

Leandro: Guess it worked.

Chief Ibanez: Asshole.

Leandro: What?

<She pulls him even closer.>

Chief Ibanez: Fucking asshole. I thought you blew yourself up.

Leandro: I thought so too.

<Dr. Okorie places a hand on Chief Ibanez's shoulder. Chief Ibanez reaches up to entwine their fingers.>

Chief Ibanez: [muffled] You getting electrolytes?

Leandro: I'm f—

Dr. Okorie: She means me.

<Dr. Astrauskas pokes Dr. Okorie, who grimaces.>

Dr. Astrauskas: Your wife shocked her own heart.

<Chief Ibanez looks up.>

Chief Ibanez: What?

Dr. Astrauskas: Her consciousness was still in the particles when she passed out. She defibrillated herself. Gave Place a nasty zap, too.

<Chief Ibanez glares at both of them. Dr. Okorie laughs, hoarsely.>

Dr. Okorie: Well, it worked. You're welcome for saving your dad, and stopping you from pancaking in your armour when the EMP hit.

Chief Ibanez: Get over here.

<Dr. Okorie scoots closer, and embraces Chief Ibanez over Leandro. Dr. Astrauskas follows suit. After a moment, Saray joins them.>

<Chief Ibanez reaches up to ruffle her youngest sister's hair.>

Chief Ibanez: Little punk.

Saray: What does that even mean?

<Pilar puts a hand on Saray's shoulder.>

Pilar: It's a compliment.

<Saray kisses Chief Ibanez on the cheek. The latter's eyes widen in surprise.>

Saray: You're a punk too, Fina.

<Ursula laughs.>

<One by one, they withdraw to sit in a rough circle around Leandro's prone form. He sits up; Dr. McDoctorate arrives, and kicks a pillow under the other man's head.>

Dr. McDoctorate: Well, that's another scientific miracle blown to hell.

Dr. Astrauskas: There'll always be more.

Dr. McDoctorate: Right, because I'm going to build them.

<He sits down between Dr. Astrauskas and Pilar.>

Dr. McDoctorate: I'll design mine not to blow up.

<Chief Ibanez takes her father's hand.>

Chief Ibanez: You did that so they couldn't have it.

<Leandro nods.>

Chief Ibanez: Even though it traps you here.

Leandro: Don't read too much into it. If they'd stolen the thing, we'd still be trapped here.

Chief Ibanez: Still, it was a nice gesture.

<She winces.>

Chief Ibanez: Even if it might have totally fucked us all.

Leandro: What?

Chief Ibanez: The vision. Without the Facility…

Leandro: What vision?

<Ursula gently brushes his sweat-matted hair from his forehead.>

Ursula: The future can wait another day. I have a more pressing concern. Who attacked us?

<Dr. McDoctorate adopts a grim expression.>

Dr. McDoctorate: It's who you think, more or less.

<He takes a tablet out of his labcoat, and turns it so Chief Ibanez can see.>

<She glances at the message, and grunts.>

Chief Ibanez: At least they're keeping to the theme, this time around.

Dr. Astrauskas: What do you think it means?

<Dr. Okorie considers.>

Dr. Okorie: Maybe they've decided they really do like chaos, after all.

Chief Ibanez: It's a lot worse than that.

<All eyes turn to her.>

Chief Ibanez: It means they've decided that chaos is going to win.

<Pilar looks away. Ursula looks at the cave ceiling.>

<Leandro squeezes Chief Ibanez's hand, and she looks down at him again.>

Leandro: I'll bet you've got something to say about that.

<Chief Ibanez smiles at him. She releases his hand — he is slow to reciprocate — and struggles to stand. The others look up at her.>

Dr. Okorie: Where are you going?

Chief Ibanez: To get my answer.

<This proves entirely unnecessary, as Chief Ibanez holds SCP-6500-SWORD over her head, and all present immediately shield their eyes from the intensity of its glow.>

<All save for Leandro Pelaez, who squints into the glare, and smiles.>

Leandro: That's my daughter.

Chief Ibanez: You're goddamn right.

<Transcript ends.>

Task Forces Command has officially reactivated PTF Delta-6500 under the command of Chief Ibanez, with Drs. Astrauskas and Okorie as operational assets and Dr. McDoctorate as consultant, and granted it purview over the Foundation's response to GoI-003 ("Chaos Resurgent").

FP-15 has been reclassified from neutralized to an active Free Port, and the residents of Zevala have unconditionally accepted Foundation protection. Reclassification of SCP-8273 from Terminarch is pending, as she is no longer the last of her kind.

As her new duties allow, Chief Ibanez has been unanimously nominated by all involved parties as the Foundation's liaison to FP-15. She has accepted. Her sister Pilar will represent the Free Port.

The 'severing' ritual has not been reimplemented.

Operation CICLO is closed.

Chief Ibanez departing from Zevala.

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