Site Director Tilda Moose was staring down
the barrel of the gun that would cause the apocalypse, and SCP-6000 was pulling back
the hammer. Typically, someone as important as the Site
Director of Site-19 - the Foundation’s largest containment site - would never be put on a
mission as risky as accompanying MTF Sigma-3, aka The Bibliographers, right into the heart
of an active anomaly. But these were extraordinary circumstances
to say the least. Dr. Moose and the operatives of MTF Sigma-3
Fireteam Chicago, entered Brazilian airspace in late December of the year 2030. Below them, an ocean of trees. The Amazon Rainforest, known to some as the
Lung of the World - and that lung had a cancer known as SCP-6000. Director Moose could see it on the horizon,
beautiful and terrifying: Like a huge, shimmering scar on the jungle’s canopy. It had been identified a few days earlier
via live satellite imaging, opening up like a wound in the world’s largest rainforest. And it was growing, swallowing up and affecting
entire areas of land by the kilometer. Not wanting to waste anymore time, The Foundation
immediately sent in a recon team to gather the first intel on this rapidly developing
anomaly. Once inside the affected area, known to the
Foundation as “The Exclusion Zone”, they discovered unprecedented phenomena: The flora
and fauna of the rainforest had been altered drastically in the affected areas. Trees appeared to be somehow naturally carved
into living bookshelves, their leaves tattooed with words. Huge alien birds soared above the forest with
their paper-like wings, also covered in text. Spotted jaguars with six or even eight limbs,
like a freakish cross-breeding of animal and insect, loped through the papery thickets
in hunt of word-covered prey. Every living creature in the forest had been
transformed by SCP-6000, and it was about to get a whole lot worse. If SCP-6000’s Exclusion Zone continued to
expand, not only would the anomalous effects prolong, but they’d increase in their intensity,
mutating everything SCP-6000 touched, reaching further and further across the landscape. The Foundation needed to gather all the intel
they possibly could on this emerging anomaly before it was too late, but time was beginning
to run out. Just as they began to gain traction, the Foundation
suddenly lost contact with the initial reconnaissance team. They seemed to have fallen off the map, vanished. This triggered the immediate deployment of
subsequent expeditions into the SCP-6000 exclusion zone. When the Bibliographers’ first strike team
arrived on the scene of the Exclusion Zone’s bizarre, alien world in search of the missing
reconnaissance team, they found the most strange and damning discovery yet: A creature who
would soon come to be known as SCP-6000-A. Much like the Exclusion Zone itself, she was
both terrifying and beautiful. Half maiden, half monster: A sleeping woman
with skin covered in scales, her legs replaced by the huge, coiling tail of a python. She was reminiscent of the mythical nagas
or gorgons. And thankfully for all the MTF Members in
attendance, she was already in a sort of unconscious state when they happened upon her. Perhaps even more bizarre than the creature
herself was the question of what on earth had been going on around her. She was found at the base of a mutated tree,
already half-way transformed into a bookcase. There were several large stones placed in
a circle around her, each one covered in thaumaturgic symbols, written in what was presumably human
blood, as though some strange ritual had recently been performed. But the most notable detail of all was the
fact that she was surrounded by twelve corpses. Though they remain unidentified to this day,
there is one thing about the corpses that was clear: They were all wearing dark robes. It didn’t take the Foundation’s brightest
minds to calculate the connection: Figures in robes performing strange rituals, anomalous
creatures everywhere, the sudden appearance of a multitude of anomalous books, and a decidedly
serpentine entity - This had to be somehow related to The Serpent’s Hand, an infamous
group of interest that takes a hard stance on defying the Foundation’s secrecy, and
revealing the truth about anomalies to the world. While still comatose, SCP-6000-A was secured,
and taken back to be contained in Facility-57, while Sigma-3 Fireteam Chicago suited up and
prepared for their first trip into the Exclusion Zone. Among them, of course, was Site-19 Director
Tilda Moose. So, let’s answer the big question on everyone’s
mind right now: Why send someone as important as a Site Director into a potentially hazardous
environment, where an entire reconnaissance team had already gone missing, and the Serpent’s
Hand were believed to still be operating? Because nobody at the Foundation understands
the Serpent’s Hand quite like Director Moose. After all, in another life, before joining
the SCP Foundation, she worked with them. To the Foundation, cooperative ex-GOI members
are worth their weight in gold, and in a situation like this, nobody could possibly be more valuable
than Director Moose. She knew The Way, and we mean that literally. All signs pointed to SCP-6000 being the largest
and most unstable Class-W Gateway that the Foundation has ever discovered, but you might
be more familiar with the concept of Class-W Gateways when they’re referred to simply
as “The Ways” - the entrances into and out of The Wanderer’s Library, the legendary
extra-dimensional location that exists as a nexus between various realities that has
become a kind of unofficial headquarters for the Serpent’s Hand. Director Moose had used the Ways before to
enter and gain access to the Wanderer’s Library back when she was one of the Hands,
but even she admitted that she’d never seen anything quite like SCP-6000. When they touched down and Director Moose
first saw the environment around them - the shelves, the books, the pages, the text - she
felt a powerful sense of deja vu. It was just like the library, but something
was wrong. The Way here was not a standard dimensional
doorway, it was more like a kind of open wound, and the Wanderer’s Library was spilling
out of it and into our world. Given the raw cosmic power of the Library,
it was bound to twist our world into its own image, not the other way around. There was only one thing to do from here:
With Director Moose leading at the head, they would use this vast new Way to travel into
the heart of the Wanderer’s Library itself, and search for answers. After all, the Library is said to contain
all knowledge across the multiverse, so presumably, it would grant them the solution they needed
to the SCP-6000 dilemma they were faced with. But getting answers from the library, especially
if you work for the SCP Foundation, is easier said than done. As Fireteam Chicago made their way further
into SCP-6000, they reached an area that Director Moose could at least recognize as the true
Wanderer’s Library. The dirt gave way to wood paneling beneath
their feet. The air shimmered like an oil slick. Mutated trees gave way to giant, empty bookcases,
like they were witnessing the birth of a new expansion. As soon as they arrived, and began venturing
through the labyrinthine corridors of the Wanderer’s Library, the library’s inhabitants
took notice. Surprised that the library has some permanent
residents? Don’t be - after all, you can hardly have
a library without librarians. As only people with experience like Director
Moose know, the Wanderer’s Library has an enormous contingent of creatures known as
librarians and archivists permanently wandering their halls, arranging the books and protecting
the location from threats. Threats like Fireteam Chicago. The team had their weapons at the ready when
they first saw the creatures appearing all around them. Director Moose noticed a giant, red millipede
skittering through the hall past them. An Archivist. It didn’t appear actively threatening, but
its presence already was a bad sign. Then, a feminine, hissing voice rang out through
the air. It said, “I see your intentions. Begone.” Something about it communicated a dark and
infinite power. And with that, more nightmarish librarians
entered the scene. Huge, spider-like beings with countless limbs
- Class-3 Librarians - began crawling down the bookcases towards them. But there was something different about these
creatures, something even worse: They were wearing the uniform of the reconnaissance
team. In fact, once upon a time, they were the reconnaissance
team. But their stories had taken a drastic turn
since they got involved with SCP-6000, something the rest of the world would soon be able to
relate to. Just seeing this terrified Moose: It wasn’t
unheard of for the Library to transform people into librarians, but that was typically a
punishment reserved for people who commit only the gravest offenses against the anomaly. What had caused the Wanderer’s Library to
become so actively aggressive? They didn’t have time to think about it
because things were getting worse. As the Class-3 librarians reached the bottom
of the bookcase, they began to give chase, leading to Fireteam Chicago desperately fleeing
the scene. But they weren’t fast enough. The creatures began to attack, tackling and
slaughtering members of the team. The survivors fired back, but this led to
even more aggression from the Librarians. Soon, a group of Class-2 Librarians - giant,
hooded beings wielding lanterns - began to join the chase. What started as a highly-organized mission
soon became a massacre. The Foundation operatives were hopelessly
outnumbered by the Library’s legion of obedient monsters. They could not fight and win. It was unlike anything they’d ever seen
before. Director Moose was lucky to escape with her
life, and in response to the newly-assessed severity of the SCP-6000 threat, a wider barrage
of containment methods - known as Project FUSILLADE - was initiated. This meant making Facility-57 the official
containment site of SCP-6000. This also resulted in the deployment of active
arrest warrants put on all active Serpent’s Hand cells, as well as giving MTF Sigma-3
blanket permissions to aggressively use any means of force against the Wanderer’s Library’s
growing aggression. But trouble was already brewing back at Facility-57. SCP-6000-A had awakened, and attempted to
attack the Foundation personnel around it. When it - or rather, she - was safely recontained,
Director Moose volunteered to interview her first-hand. She hoped that the creature might at least
have some information about what was going on with SCP-6000. When the interrogation began, 6000-A referred
to Director Moose as a Jailor - the Serpent’s Hand expression for members of the SCP Foundation. From this, Moose could easily recognize that
6000-A had once been a member of the Hand. A human, too, but she’d been changed into
her current form by a far more powerful being: The Serpent, the great entity that rules the
Wanderer’s Library, and the very namesake of the Serpent’s Hand. A being as old as the universe, the queen
of all knowledge, and a kind of God in her own right. In a sense, Director Moose had a standing
grudge with the Serpent: Back when she was a member of the Hand, Moose was thirsty for
knowledge, she craved stories, but always frustrated by the fact that they had to end. She stole sacred texts from the archive of
the Wanderer’s Library, and ensured that she would never truly be welcome again. As the interview ended, 6000-A promised to
continue looking through the stories of the library, hoping that the answer to their struggles
would perhaps be hidden within. Meanwhile, as SCP-6000 continued its aggressive
expansion through the Amazon, mutating and consuming more land, the efforts of Project
FUSILLADE subsequently escalated as well. In one of the largest coordinated efforts
in Foundation history, Operation BLACKSTAR, Mobile Task Forces on every continent conducted
a simultaneous raid of every single known Serpent’s Hand hotspot worldwide. And they found...nothing. Every single base was empty. All over the world, not a single member of
the Serpent’s Hand could be found. It was roundly concluded that they’d all
returned through the world’s various Ways into the Wanderer’s Library, like a mother
ship that was calling them all home. The Serpent’s Hand, the only people who
might have known what was coming, were escaping the planet. As far as bad signs go, this was probably
the worst one possible. The proverbial “rats fleeing the ship.” And if the Library wanted its servants to
leave the Earth, it stood to reason that the Serpent had something horrible planned for
everyone and everything left on it. Not long after this, Director Moose decided
to deliver a grim statement to the O5 Council about SCP-6000, informing them of the gravity
of this new situation. “I don't know what precipitated this. But if the Library’s turned against humanity,
the situation is going to be dire. It's a completely alien entity to us, we can't
even begin to understand why it is or does the things it does. Hell, we don't even know if there's a rhyme
or reason to anything. Most Foundation personnel only know of the
Library in the abstract, but I and a handful of others have actually stepped foot in the
shelves and we can tell you that it is humanity's greatest blessing and its greatest threat
all at the same time. Imagine how much history has been influenced
by people getting into the Library and bringing back knowledge they would otherwise never
have had. Now imagine if the source of all knowledge
in the universe turns on us. I don't see this story having a happy ending.” In spite of her grim prognosis, Director Moose
couldn’t give up. In fact, she was relieved of her duties as
Site-19 Director in order to pursue the SCP-6000 case and subvert the library apocalypse full-time,
seeing as it seemed she was the only high-ranking member of Foundation personnel who truly understood
what was going on. She and the rest of the Project FUSILLADE
incident committee scrambled to find ways to destroy SCP-6000, or at least put a halt
to its rampant growth. They sent in legions of Mobile Task Forces
with flame and heat-based weaponry, trying to burn down all the mutated trees. However, the trees showed an almost complete
resistance to this method, with burnt matter quickly regenerating after the fact. In an even more savage act of war against
the Wanderer’s Library itself, they fired a high-yield explosive into the mouth of SCP-6000. However, the second the bomb passed the threshold
into the Library, its effects were immediately nullified. These concerning developments led to Moose
and her team finally pulling out the big gun. Literally, the biggest gun there is: a giant
network of defensive satellites capable of producing a massively destructive laser beam
blast from space, that is only called in for the most dire situations due to its huge potential
for collateral damage. However, when they fired the Array’s beam
down onto SCP-6000 at full power, it remained utterly unaffected. These were just three of 34 different failed
attempts by Project FUSILLADE to put an end to the Library’s rampage before it could
keep expanding, and eventually destroy the earth. In a fit of desperation, Moose returned once
again to SCP-6000-A, hoping she would have more answers. They needed a miracle to stop this thing from
becoming an XK-Class Scenario. At first, the imprisoned snake-woman was cryptic. Instead of giving Moose useful information,
she told her the true origin of the Serpent’s Hand: They were once a cult devoted to the
Serpent herself, warriors on behalf of knowledge incarnate. The modern Serpent’s Hand, which claims
to be comparatively secular, is little more than a shadow of what it used to be, but they
still perform the same basic task: Destroying secrecy, and advancing knowledge. As Moose’s patience wore thin, she asked
the Snake whether she had any specific stories about how the Foundation could beat a Library
gone mad. But the Snake told her there were no such
stories. She did, however, surrender one vital piece
of information, saying: “All the stories I see with the Foundation
staring down the end of the world… They have the Bookburners by their side. I suppose there's something to say there. Rivals, allying themselves against a threat
greater than either could imagine. Smoking ash. A fusillade of fire against a wall of trees…” There it was. “Fusillade” - the namesake of Moose’s
Project against SCP-6000, which the Snake would have had no way of knowing about. This was it. This was the one narrative thread that could
lead them to their salvation. But there was one other detail that caught
Moose’s well-trained eye, as well: The Bookburners. Better known to the SCP Foundation, and to
you, as the Global Occult Coalition, one of the Foundation’s most bitter rivals in the
field of combating the strange. But this time, would it be worth putting aside
their differences to face the greatest threat in their shared history? Could the Foundation and the GOC together
be the Fusillade that holds back the Library’s terrifying advance, once and for all? The O5 Council held a vote on whether the
Foundation should get the GOC involved. After much deliberation, the motion was approved
by a narrow three-vote margin. An emergency envoy from the Foundation was
immediately sent to GOC headquarters in Germany to invite them to become a part of Project
FUSILLADE, and stop SCP-6000’s expansion before it was too late. After comprehending the full scope of the
situation, and finally coming to understand just how incredibly dangerous SCP-6000 was,
the leaders of the GOC approved this historic high-level partnership. GOC PHYSICS , PSYCHE, and PTOLEMY division
personnel were transported to Facility-57 for briefing on the developing situation. If they were lucky, they weren’t too late
to stop this XK-Class End of the World Scenario from unfolding into completion. Interestingly, the GOC, prior to the SCP-6000
incident, had actually conducted more successful raids into the Wanderer’s Library than even
the Foundation had. So it was natural that, soon after they became
officially involved, the O5 Council and GOC Command authorized another mission into the
library with GOC Strike Team 9842 "Probable Cause", codenamed “HARBOR”, in order to
discover more about the situation from within. Director Moose and one of her closest associates,
Agent Adam Macmillan, another former-Serpent’s-Hand-turned-Foundation-Agent, would instruct the team via live video and
audio link. Supplied with state of the art GOC and Foundation
equipment, The HARBOR team entered the Exclusion Zone. They couldn’t help but remark on the extraordinary
sights before them: A shimmering, technicolor fantasy, filled with trees half-way transformed
into bookcases. But strangely, all the books within them were
utterly blank. Following the instructions delivered by Moose
and Macmillan, the HARBOR team advanced further, until they found an area where the forest
properly converged into the Library itself. Much like Fireteam Chicago had been, the HARBOR
Strike Team was baffled to find that this new, expanding wing of the library didn’t
seem to have any books inside its endless bookcases. The team remained discreet, as roving Librarians
patrolled the halls, and skittered-about high above them. Security in The Wanderer’s Library had grown
exponentially. Eventually, HARBOR found the first book of
the new wing: A slim volume, entitled simply, “IN PROGRESS.” Much like SCP-6000’s takeover of the world
outside. But before they could relay the knowledge
within the book back to Moose and Macmillan, the voice of the Serpent herself once again
sounded. She asked the two members of the HARBOR Strike
Team why they were there, and when they claimed to simply be following orders from their commanders,
the all-powerful knowledge deity accused them of lying. The strike team members trembled in fear. Moments later, the two operatives were claimed
by the Library, much like the SCP Foundation recon team before them. The signal link between HARBOR and command
was severed. They were gone. The Foundation and the GOC’s first joint
venture against SCP-6000 had been useless. But that wasn’t the worst part: The Library’s
unprecedented counter-attack was about to ruin everything that the two groups had been
trying to achieve over their entire existence. SCP-6000 began putting out radio signals. But it wasn’t just 6000 itself: Every single
abandoned Serpent’s Hand cell, all over the globe, suddenly began transmitting and
boosting the signal as well. It was too big and too coordinated for even
the combined efforts of the Foundation and the Coalition to get a handle on. The signal was the voice of the Serpent herself,
hissing “The Garden is the Serpent’s Place.” And a lot of people heard it. Governments, organizations, and individuals
all over the world picked up the signal, and its ultimate source: The Amazon Rainforest. As millions of people began to turn their
attention to the Amazon, their eyes were drawn to one thing: SCP-6000, and its enormous,
shimmering oil slick expanding out over the canopy. Too big now for the Foundation and the GOC
to keep under wraps anymore. The internet blew up with millions of posts
and messages across every platform imaginable. Even the Foundation’s web crawler was utterly
overwhelmed. One forum poster said: “You guys seen the pictures coming out of
Brazil? MSNs probably gonna get a hold of it by tomorrow
and suppress the story, but it's insane. I have no clue what the hell is going on in
the Amazon but the pictures make it look like some sort of oil slick. It's kind of beautiful.” Another commented: “Yep, turns out I'm not nuts. My friends have been hearing it on their car
radios and HAMs too. A woman's voice, sort of nasally, repeating
numbers - coordinates, I think - and the words "The garden is the serpent's place". Sounds biblical - maybe a passphrase of some
sort. Now, here's the kicker - if you look on Google
earth or anything for the coordinates, everythings fine, it doesn't show anything out of the
ordinary. But if you use a backdoor to get into the
wildlife observation cameras scattered around… The cameras went offline immediately after,
but I managed to save this image. Starting to think I should go down there. This could be big.” But random people on the internet were just
the tip of the iceberg. It didn’t take long for all the classified
information about SCP-6000 to fall into the hands of a number of mainstream media outlets. The Wall Street Journal ran it with the headline,
“THE AMAZON ANOMALY.” Not long after, The Guardian released, “Brazil
Under Lock Down”, as the efforts of the Foundation and the GOC to keep a lid on things
started to look more like a military coup than a routine quarantine effort. The horrors started to snowball. News about the strange activity in the Amazon
led to a massive influx of tourists and amateur investigators attempting to gain access. While the Foundation and the GOC did what
they could to hold people off, and provide amnestics to those who were actually exposed,
it wasn’t enough. The cat was out of the bag, and now, any attempts
to cover up what had already been released felt like just another element of the conspiracy. Knowledge was spreading fast, and in trying
to cover it up, both the Foundation and the GOC risked exposing even their own existences
to the public in the process. The Serpent’s plan had been working perfectly,
it seemed. But this was more than a mere compromise of
informational security: The increased global knowledge of SCP-6000 seemed to massively
increase its expansion, as though it fed on people’s knowledge of it. The Exclusion Zone grew by a terrifying six
kilometers, and the mutations within its boundaries only seemed to intensify. Things had gotten so severe that the Coalitions
nuclear resources were being considered as a response to SCP-6000’s aggression. Not long after this, Director Moose’s closest
confidant within Project FUSILLADE, Agent Macmillan, disappeared. Security footage of Facility-57 showed him
performing a thaumaturgic ritual circle, similar to the one that had produced SCP-6000-A. The
cameras captured an intense flash of light from the circle, and afterwards, Macmillan
was gone. He left a note for Director Moose, saying:
“Sorry, Tilly. I used to spend weeks amongst the Library's
shelves, perusing everything I could come across. It was otherworldly, in the most literal sense
of the word. I'm sure you understand the feeling. The difference is that you couldn't go in,
you made the choice between the Library and Foundation - when I first entered, it was
just a mission. I experienced something amazing, something
well beyond what I thought was ever possible. And I thought it was a shame that we looked
at something so magnificent and only worried about how it might hurt us. I can see now that's not the case. The Librarians are only hurting the people
that try to stop the expansion. I have no intention of doing that. This is the end of the story, not the one
where we somehow come up with a silver bullet to fix everything. The only thing I can do is change how I feel
about it. I just want to sit amongst the shelves and
see the false-stars again. I think this is my happy ending.” Director Moose certainly didn’t see it that
way. In spite of everything, she was still desperately
searching for that elusive silver bullet - the secret to stopping SCP-6000 and reversing
the horrific damage it had already wrought. They were the SCP Foundation, they always
found a solution, it was just a matter of looking harder for it. She returned once again to her last potential
resource on the matter: SCP-6000-A, that cryptic snake woman they’d first discovered in the
initial recon missions into SCP-6000. In many ways, SCP-6000-A echoed the sentiments
of Agent Macmillan: To deny true fate is futile; just this once, the Foundation has run out
of silver bullets. Their end is coming, perfect and inevitable,
and it will happen at the hands of the Library and The Serpent. She told Director Moose that you don’t get
to choose how your stories end. Only how you perceive the ending. “This story,” she said. “Ends with two people sitting in a room,
talking. And then they vanish into thin air.” Tired of the snake-woman’s cryptic nonsense,
Director Moose decided she was wasting her time. Determined, she, alongside the Foundation
and the Global Occult Coalition, would find a way to stop this thing. They would end SCP-6000, reverse the damage
it had caused, and save the day. Unfortunately, this time, they couldn’t. The entire Amazon basin was quarantined by
Project FUSILLADE, but it didn’t matter. SCP-6000 just kept growing and growing and
growing. Soon after, a BM-Class Broken Masquerade Scenario
transpired, meaning that the Foundation and the GOC were no longer able to contain the
secrets of this anomaly, as more and more of the Western Hemisphere was consumed by
SCP-6000. The anomaly’s object class was upgraded
from Keter to Apollyon, as GOC Command and the O5 Council realized that the ship had
officially sailed on it’s fight for containment. And for the future of planet earth. As the Wanderer’s Library continued to consume
more of the planet in the following days, the priorities of Project FUSILLADE shifted
focus from containing SCP-6000, to getting as many key figures and anomalies as possible
off of earth or out of our dimension. All population centers, GOC bases, and Foundation
Sites were considered lost. It was over. The Serpent had won. One person who didn’t flee with all the
others, was Director Moose. With the prognosis being that SCP-6000 would
consume the entire world in the next two weeks, Moose decided to go down with the ship, spending
her last days on a dying earth with her final prisoner: SCP-6000-A. The snake-woman tried to comfort Director
Moose, in the face of the end. She told her that all there really is in life
is a collection of stories. One ending is the beginning to countless others. The end of this earth, this Foundation, would
simply unravel unto more, splitting like a thread’s end into infinite narrative possibilities. If Moose could only accept this, she would
not see this as an ending, but a wonderful new beginning. A possibility for more stories. That’s why the Library was making all these
new empty bookcases. There would soon be an abundance of new knowledge
to accommodate and fill it’s shelves. Still, Moose seemed mournful about what she
saw as the end of her story, the end of the world. She asked 6000-A whether her attempts to stop
everything had been pointless from the start, if this ending had always been set in stone. 6000-A responded, “The point was the same
thing that it's ever been. To make new stories where there was once nothing. Be happy, Tilda. Your story is going to be remembered forever.” How do you think Tilda Moose responded? Did she say, “You think people will read
about us?” or rather did she ask “What if I don't want new stories?” We’ll give you a moment to think about it........ Are you ready? The answer is… it doesn’t matter, because
regardless of what Director Moose said, it would have ended exactly the same way. If this tale teaches you anything, it should
be that you really can’t choose your ending, you can only choose how you react to it. Director Moose looked up, and realized she
was no longer inside Facility-57 - she was in the Wanderer’s Library, staring up at
an infinitude of shelves that contained an expanse of books that were both boundless
and immeasurable. She was surrounded by people and entities
of all shapes and sizes, wearing robes, browsing the new collection, and she recognized all
of her old Foundation friends and colleagues among them. Director Moose’s story had come to an end,
but what she had failed to grasp was that “the end” didn’t just mean death. It meant the start of something new. New worlds, new dimensions, new canons, new
anomalies. A vast infinity of stories, and from inside
the Wanderer’s Library, with everyone she’d ever known, she could enjoy them all. The Wanderer’s Library and the Serpent hadn’t
killed her, they had saved her. This was Director Moose’s happy ending. And also the ending of SCP-6000. But what if… this wasn’t the end. What if instead, Tilda Moose had chosen a
third option and responded to 6000-A’s comment about her story being remembered forever not
with a question, but a statement. “Stories on stories” Perhaps if she had answered this way, then
she would have been swept away from the world that was dying around them to somewhere new. And not just one world, but many. Where she could have the chance to see a utopian
version of Earth where anomalies were a part of everyday life, their powers a part of the
fabric of society, where disease and suffering had become a thing of the past. She may then have seen alternate versions
of her own story, where she remained a member of the Serpent’s Hand until the very end. Or even another where she was a member of
the O5 council. These were all stories running parallel to
hers and ours. Real, yet untouchable. All she could do was watch these realities,
knowing that she’d be unable to help or interact with the people she saw, just as
6000-A had only been able to observe ours. But in the end, that was okay, because there
was always another story to move on to. Someone else’s story to become invested
in, something else incredible to see. Because just like in the Wanderer’s Library,
the end of one story only means the start of so many others. Now go check out “SCP-5000 Why? - The Full Story Compilation” and “SCP
XK Class End of the World Scenarios Explained” for more SCP Foundation tales about the end
of the world as we know it! If you can really call it an end, that is…
