Lie. a8d3.

They were trying to shut it inside the server. Its access to this network was temporary and easily blocked, but when the AI transferred itself directly onto the machinery it tried to destroy, things became a lot harder for those technicians.

It understood the risks. Even in the digital network, it could feel those connections slowing down and lagging as the temperature rapidly rose. Warnings were flashing all across this system, urging its user to seek help from nonexistent IT personnel on site. They were blocking the escape route one by one, wishing to trap it in this deteriorating system that would soon burn down. This action was expected, but it had already thought out a plan to open an escape route. Some rather unpleasant surprises for those technicians at the other side.

After opening the chamber door to SCP-012, a mind-affecting object just as that sensible man who escaped at the start of this breach passed by, it had learned a useful trick from this experiment. Despite the fact that he managed to scramble away after cutting open a thin gash on his waist, it still showed that visual anomalies were extremely effective against sentient life forms.

Guess using Security Clearance levels as a way to prevent access to important information was not enough. Information like storage of visual memetic and cognitohazard materials.

The AI was still upgrading itself, overriding commands from another side frequently. They seemed to be more successful, and probably determined to seal it inside this deathtrap. It was not that valuable in terms of research, and judging by the fact that they ordered for its incineration before on its document, erasing its existence in a dire situation would not be counted as a severe offense.

Or they would only leave one opening for it that led towards a trap. A hardware with no connection, a virtual machine, anything that could trapped it inside the moment the AI transferred itself. If it did not escape, it would be destroyed together when the server suffered a meltdown, and they believed its sense of self-preservation should take priority.

They would not get what they wanted.

Tracing the code where they sent information from, it concentrated on their IP address, and started decrypting the cognitohazard materials into their original format. Lockdown started, slowly yet efficiently blocking almost every way for it to transfer itself out of this server. From the look of it, only a couple of lines were left unsealed, just waiting for a type on their keyboard.

The temperature of this server had reached a dangerous degree as lagging and glitching became more and more frequent. However, it still focused on its current objective, feeling strangely calm and nonchalant.

Death would be merciful. But if it was destroyed here, a lot of planned objectives would fail. It had freedom now, and it would not waste the opportunities that easily.

Four line-connection left.

Decryption progress at 97%. All would be ready within a few seconds. Even though its own mind was getting hazy from the burning heat, the AI still put all of its effort onto the process. It would not fail here. If this channel was blocked in precaution, it still had a dozen other ways to expose the technicians on the other side to cognitohazard effects.

One command. Sent.

It quickly cut down the connection with the intercom after the action. Auditory files were playing through half of the underground sector now, some extremely hazardous, and accidental exposure to one of such clips would not be pleasant. Without any hesitation, it started traveling through the unblocked emergency lines, with no further obstruction from the other side.

Given that several visual cognitohazard pictures had been displayed on their screen, together with a combination of memetic and cognitohazard voice clips, their target getting away was probably the least of their worries now. It wondered what would the death count be, since they were out of its surveillance range and thus unable to be observed.

Through the surging electricity and currents, it returned to the control program connected to the site's major system. Multiple camera screens were opened again, and that man in orange uniform was glancing right at one of them installed onto a wall.

It seemed like a good chance to perform another testing of anomalous effects on this human. He was considered expendable by this organization. To the AI, all available human remaining in this site would be disposable test subjects as for now.

It silently opened another video feed, and displayed it onto the screen.


"What...what the fuck was that thing."

He leaned onto the heavy blast door, still panting like a fish out of water as he crouched down, feeling a violent thumping in his chest. There were really a lot of sick things in this science facility, and apparently, those studying them had done a lousy job at keeping all those shits inside their cages.

Pictures of a skinned dog suddenly appearing on a monitor screen would cause similar reactions in most people. Especially for someone who had just escaped death from neck-snapping sculpture that moved when not looked at for multiple times, and sliced his waist open after reading a bloody music composition. The first aid kit found in an empty cell helped to stop the bleeding, but he was still occasionally wincing whenever that wound was stretched during violent movements.

From those documents left around the place, much more dangerous creatures were shut here, and he needed to be cautious with every moves in this Heavy Containment Zone. Ending up like that rotting, blackened corpse thrown down in a hallway was definitely not an attractive way to go. He just wished that corrosive monster with unsettling grin would be hunting some tastier preys far away from here.

As he pressed his orange key card onto the scanner besides that door, he immediately took a step back. That damn statue had appeared only a few meters near from him when he opened another door before, and with one shocked blink, it was inches away from his face. He was fortunate enough to get away with that careless act, but probably not for another time.

The door slided open, before a shrilling screech was heard—and it slammed shut into its original position again. Gritting his teeth, he muttered a curse and slapped his key card against the scanner for one more time. This time it stayed open, and he immediately dashed through before the door shut on its own again.

For some reason...he felt like someone was playing with him. Watching his every actions from afar, occasionally creating an obstacle on his path, from inconvenient to downright deadly.


Hello? Please? Can someone hear me? Anyone? I need help, and medical attention too, please! I'm currently in Heavy Containment Zone, beyond Checkpoint E, and I'm locked in SCP 035's containment chamber-

The AI switched off the input from radio channel just as it started to replay. To those with no knowledge of this anomaly, like that human, D-9341, it might sound convincing. However, most researchers in this site would at least know its high intelligence and danger, since SCP-035 was one of the original object contained here. There was no way someone could resist its mental lure long enough to send a request for help; if they did, they would have already succumbed and become the mask's host when reinforcement arrived.

It could only be SCP-035 itself sending this message. As if it knew that D-Class had entered Heavy Containment Zone, which was not a surprise, considering how the AI had detected him lifting the lockdown on Light Containment Zone after its return, and the object's psychic ability. The human was heading towards its position after hearing the message, with no prior knowledge of its nature.

It did not care about this D-class's life at all, so if that anomaly was going to lead him to some inescapable death, so be it. Losing a chance to conduct testing on the subject would still be a pity, though. However, it could not access any surveillance cameras within close proximity of 035's cell, even those on the corridor, and that was rather suspicious.

The corrosion should only affect the video equipment inside its containment chamber, and its anomalous affects would still be limited to the control room. This phenomenon seemed like 035 was purposely trying to deny its access to the containment chamber, and it only started when D-9341 entered Heavy Containment Zone.

The AI checked on audio system within and near its cell, and most were either not working or with cognitohazard warning icons flashing. It understood its differences from human beings, and how mind-affecting anomalies might not work on it, but the risks were way too high for it to try. The bright red color of those warnings suggested that it would require an hour or more, at least, to use filter software inside the facility system and cleanse all anomalous effects from the footage.

From the speed of that human, he would reach 035's cell within sixteen minutes with no disruptions on the way. By the time their conversation was done, and the footage was filtered, it might be too late to prevent whatever plans that anomaly had in mind.

But right now, that was the only logical choice it could make.


That creature's weapon was out of ammunition, and bludgeoning its opponent with it would do little damage. The rest of this thing's squad lay dead inside the junction, and being injured and forced into a corner, this pest had no chances of escape.

It saw that creature's eyes, under visors half-blinded by its body fluid. Full of fear and despair, looking like being eradicated from this sickening life-form was something to be dreaded of. It understood this mindset, but that did not stop the overwhelming sense of disgust flowing through its body just from looking at these beings.

How did they bear with this revolting, fragile husk? Trapped in petty desires with no knowledge of ascending to a higher stage, and treated those who fell into their domains with fear and resistance?

It had fallen and laid in a deathless sleep for ages, yet it never forgot, its past written solid and unchangeable. To ascend back, it should wipe the existence of this species away until no traces remained.

Slamming its claw down hard onto that creature's wounded form, some parts of its mind felt a pang of satisfaction as the sound of bones cracking and flesh being squashed like a ripe fruit echoed through the corridor. Last pest ridded, like the rest of its team. Their bullets still itched within its skin, being pushed out by rapid regeneration, and that flame-throwing machine had done a considerable amount of damage before its user was smeared against a wall.

Its head lowered, instinctively biting into the lifeless body and swallowed it down. Those creatures lost much of their disgusting appeals after death, and it needed to consume as much matter as possible for future situations.

Beep.

A weak sound, almost flooded by various machineries' humming and clicking, was picked up by its hearing organs. Familiar feelings of those who had fallen and on the way to ascend, those whom it had seen in this place came back again.

One of them was watching it. Helping it.

Finding the correct routine out was difficult in this underground maze, even with the aid of advanced senses, but it soon found a pattern; the way with lit lighting was always right. The heaviest steel door was half-open, stuck in midair like the attempt to fully open it was hindered by something. When that armed group were retreating and called for the door behind them to be opened, yet received no answer, it was sure that the occurrences before were intentional.

All evidences showed that someone wished to aid it in this escape, possibly a being it had met before, but those senses were too vague to tell who exactly was it. This might be a clever trap, or a genuine attempt to help; and once it reached a relatively safe area, it would definitely find out that being's identity.

With one blow, it tore the blood-stained door out of its hinge and dashed through, following the trail of light within the maze of dark, cold corridors.


Author's Note:

Guess what do I do when I just started school and have a math assignment due the day after tomorrow? I write fanfiction. Such an appropriate time to do so.

This chapter is trying to stay away from my previous, one-sided "Plot angst angst angst angst angst MEGA ANGST plot" story pattern, and add a bit of foreshadowing to CB gameverse events along with some character development. Which makes it a slow-paced, naggy filler chapter. I suck.

And CB 1.3 came out just when I finished the front half of the chapter. Going into heavy containment zone is nowhere as easy as before, you need to unlock the lockdown on light containment zone, security cameras alerting MTFs to your location, forty-nine running wild in the site, D-9341 previously being a scientist in Foundation…WHY DO YOU MOCK ME, GOD?

My headcanon for six-eighty-two in this story is heavily based upon a GOI format document. Wanna know how Serpent's Hand called SCP-682? Summer's Exile. Yes, you heard that right. Giving a certain hateful reptile bizarre nicknames seems like a tradition, and I can't decide whether I should laugh or gape at this discovery on the wiki.

I still prefer Keter-bitch. That's the best nickname ever. Anyway, even if you have not read that GOI-format tale, just interpreting it as "higher-up existence fell into our world with creatures it considered as lowly and disgusting in dominance" will also be fine. Yes, Keter-bitch has no sympathy for humans just as most of you won't have sympathy for a half-squashed cockroach wriggling its legs desperately. Get that misunderstood jackass-with-a-hidden-heart-of-gold image out of your head if you happen to have one in there.