Anomaly, Part 2

By Rose

Containment Site 905, 15:34

Today is apparently my lucky day. As it's been 9 and a half months since I first entered containment, such a thing is rather a relief to hear.

That's not to say it's been explicitly, overtly terrible quite yet. I've been slowly working my way up through consistent pestering and answering endless questions, back into a role that at the very least gives me access to my old research files. I can't access anything else; my clearance is only to things I previously worked upon, and even then only offline versions that aren't updated by any others to avoid potentially giving me information I shouldn't have; but it's better than nothing. I at least have something to do to fill the days, save for pacing my containment chamber, occasionally adding to my nest, and learning all the little quirks of my body...

But there's only so much one can do. I finished my paper on hypothetical EVE anti-particles and moved onto theorizing about 9950 2 months in, but without access to any info other than my instincts, it's almost worthless. I'm just guessing at shapes in the dark, slowly going insane from boredom as I stare, each and every day, at these 4 concrete walls.

I'm hoping that changes today.

"Goooood morning Nisk. I hope you're doing well. How's the paper going?"

"Well, I'm not cleared to perform any experiments or tests on SCP-9950, and I'm not told about the outcomes of the experiments that DO get performed so y'know. Not at all."

"Hah, well...I'm sure we can do something about that soon. Uh, either way, your visitor is here. Please remain at the far end of the containment chamber, and don't make any sudden moves...etc. We've done this before."

Dr Robert Horatio. Not the worst, but certainly not the best guy anyone's ever had overseeing their containment. I've got an exceedingly strong impression that he's using this assignment as an excuse to slack off, since I don't actually require much effort to contain. Unfortunately that means he hasn't bothered to advocate or plan for me getting any time outside of this chamber either. I suppose since planning a way to ensure I can't escape during any form of transport would be quite a lot of effort given my size and strength, it's easier to just let me sit and rot. Even my Foundation mandated therapist couldn't avoid letting it slip how strange it was that I haven't seen the sun in months...

"You say that every single time, but...fine. Who is it today anyways?"

"Iiiiit's...Ah. Lina. I know you two have quite the prior rapport. There won't be any trouble, right?"

If she was already here in person, I know she'd be able to read my delight. I can barely contain myself from bouncing in excitement, tail-tip wiggling in delight hard enough to slap the floor, my eyes literally lighting up with a bioluminescent glow. It's been almost a month since we last spoke, and she sounded like death warmed up back then. Just knowing she's still alive is the kind of relief I need right now, and getting to see her is even better than the cherry on top!

I oblige his orders without hesitation today, curling up in my nest on the far side of the chamber and watching the door with a hardly suppressed glee. And though I cringe a little at the painful scraping of its mechanisms, the pained look vanishes once I see Dr Illissi standing within the quarter opened doorway.

It returns when she barely drags herself in.

"Nisssk, wonderful to see you again! How uh...whew. Long walk here. How are you...doing?"

"Nevermind me, what's wrong with you?!"

"Believe it or not I'm...doing better than most other mages. Especially the old ones..."

She lets out a heavy sigh, makes a general dismissive hand motion towards one of the security cameras, and after a few tries, clicks her fingers.

"Robert, you can shut the door now. And Nisk...well why don't you show me to your nest. We probably only have 10 minutes, and I'd like to sit down somewhere that isn't hard concrete. We've got quite a bit to talk about."

"I'm supposed to tell you not to approach the skip..."

"Why, afraid she's gonna kill me less painfully than the Impasse?"

"Lina..."

"Sorry, sorry. But...really, it's fine. I hereby take responsibility if she burns me or crushes me or whatever. I've used up all my other favors owed just to be here, so please..."

"...15 minutes. I'll...go get some coffee. But you owe me one now, and I expect my favor returned. Yeah?"

"...yeah. Of course."

There's a few moments of total silence. I'm stunned in the worst way. I haven't seen Dr Illissi in a while, and now she seems so...fragile. I want to say something comforting, just...help her. But even as I stand from my nest, she seems to stumble on shaky legs from the trembling through the floor.

I stay still, and let her approach. She does her best to speed-walk across the containment cell, but it's clear she simply doesn't have the energy for it anymore, frustration building across her face. By the time she reaches the outer edge of my nest, she's out of breath again, and looks frankly devastated.

"Nisk...I'm so fucking sick of this shit."

"...I, uh..yeah."

I rest myself back down as carefully as I possibly can, curling the tip of my tail around to prop up the bundle of branches she's trying to sit on. She drops down wordlessly, shifting about for a moment to get herself comfortable on the leaf padded section of my tail, before staring down at the floor...

"...Dr-"

"Please. Just...Lina. Or Illissi. I'm not your boss anymore Nisk, and it's just us. A Dragon and a dying old mage."

"Don't."

"Oh no, I'm not that kind of person. I'm sure I could have a lovely, flowery, sentimental death, but things are going to change very soon. And I want to see them to their end. I'm not planning on dying in your claws Nisk. I'm here with a purpose. I'm here because I want to live."

We meet each others gaze. Something is shared. Fire.

"How do I help?"

"I need information, and...maybe more. But first, I just have to check; you feel fine right?"

"I..."

I have a laundry list of complaints a thousand miles long. But I don't want to waste time that's apparently so limited, nor do I want to bitch at a dying woman. I hold my tongue, for now.

"Yeah, I'm physically fine, if that's what you mean. Why?"

"Because you should be dead. Or at least suffering even worse than me."

"...Well, thanks."

"I mean it. Your body is extremely anomalous. It heals abnormally well and fairly fast, it's got strength that far exceeds standard musculature limits for organic beings, it's too light for its size, and though you do eat a lot more than most other animals, it's not nearly enough to support what your caloric requirements SHOULD be. And, on top of that, you're literally an endless source of EVE. I'm barely hanging onto the scraps of my own thaumaturgic abilities but you? You're a bottomless well. If your EVE wasn't tainted with the same transformative effect as the pool water, I'm sure you'd be being used as a power source for anything that needs it. The accessible amount may be relatively limited, but the total amount is...apparently infinite. You could supply an entire planets worth of arch-mages. They wouldn't remain human, but still."

Huh!

...Somehow, none of it seems to surprise me. I'd already figured out for the most part exactly how abnormal my body was in the physical sense, and I was able to sense some of the EVE of my own form too. That I'm apparently a endless source of the stuff is a touch concerning, but at least they're not gonna start plugging things into me like a huge scaly battery.

"Okay, yeah that's...a LOT. But...what's the problem though?

"ALL of those systems are failing elsewhere. The anomalous world is dying out in its entirety, and it's only been getting worse. My body is partly sustained by magic, and magic is on its last breath. Your body should ALSO be sustained by magic; but you're fine. You're not the only anomaly like that, and...the foundation is searching for the others right now but...none of the others are transferable. 9950 makes you personally immune to the dying of magic, at least if you go all the way. But the Foundation won't allow further testing on anyone-"

"-Because it also turns you into a dragon. Right, okay I guess I get all of that. I...don't quite see what I'm meant to tell you though. Most of that was news to me, and I don't have access to anything you don't."

"...When you were first contained, you told me that if I ever had a chance to change, like you, that I shouldn't miss it. But...the chance is gone. It was never really there for me. I guess I should have expected that truthfully."

She turns to look across my body. I can see the flicker of something upon her face, a certain longing as her eyes linger. Her gaze traces its way up from my tail to my hindlegs, across my folded wings and up along my neck, drinking in the complexity of my form like taking in a painting. She finishes at my eyes, her dark brown pupils reflecting mine and their deep red tint...

"...But now this is life or death for me."

"But since they won't let you go through it, what are you gonna do?"

She sighs, glances around my sparsely decorated containment cell...and then lays her hands on my tail. I see her make a decision in that moment.

"...Get help and do it regardless."

"Help? I thought you said you used up all your favors?"

"In the Foundation, yes."

I can tell how much my eyes must widen. Her face reflects my confusion, my concern...and my understanding.

"You're...no. Come on, this is insane. I...I get it, fucking trust me I GET IT. But if you turn traitor-"

"Do you know why all this shit is happening? Us. The Impasse is caused by the containment of the anomalous, Nisk. We, the Foundation, are killing magic everywhere. The only way it can be stopped, if it even can anymore, is if the global containment of anomalies is ended or else billions of creatures, BILLIONS of sapient beings are going to die, painfully. We created this mess, and now, we're refusing to solve it...

But I won't. I refuse to be complicit, and I refuse to stand by, and I refuse to DIE before I can do anything. The veil must fall, and I'm going to help push. I have the tools for it. But I need to be alive for that."

"But how the fuck do you think you're gonna be able to have any effect?! The Serpents Hand has been trying for years, and they've never even gotten close-"

"There's no guarantees, yes, but the Foundation right now is scared and weaker than ever. It's a risk! But if things don't change, if the Foundation forever remains in control and sticks to containment over protection, you're never going to see the outside world again. You'll be stuck in this containment cell as long as you live, until you either succumb to the Impasse too, or die for their experiments as they do everything they can to figure out why you haven't. I don't want that for you. I don't want that for anyone, for anything!"

She looks up to me, begging for understanding, that I might comprehend the weight of her words. She needn't bother; the concern that I'd never again by free has been pressing down on me ever since I decided that I had to go through this change. With the extra context of all that's happening, it suddenly seems all the more certain...

"...Is there no other way? E...even just...changing it from within?"

"Maybe someone else could, MAYBE. But you're an anomaly, and I'm barely clinging to life. I don't think I even have long enough left to start something so utterly immense. Not that I haven't tried, believe me but...my words don't hold the weight they once did. I fucking...stumble into someones office, trying to talk to them about effectively ending the entire foundation, and they just look at me like I'm some pathetic, dying creature begging for its life. I suppose they're not far off..."

"...I'm s-"

"How the fuck do you bear it? In here, I mean. You're...you're built to fly. You have wings, that have never touched the sky! I can't even imagine how that feels!-..."

Something seems to stop her in her tracks. She glances down at her hands, flexing them in an odd, flowing manner. It reminds of when I used to stick my palm out of the window of my parents car, and feel the air resistance. I know what she's doing though. What she's thinking.

"...No, actually. I think I can. I think I have been ever since we entered that pool. Definitely since the day I watched you change."

I stare down at her. In pity, a little. And empathy, and understanding. But in something much more too. Solidarity. We are both caged. It's killing her much faster, but a late death from boredom, dissection, or decay is hardly better.

"I want to ask for your help. I can't force you obviously, and it's a lot to ask.

But more than that, want I want to know is this. Not by chance, nor permission, nor any granted opportunity. For survival, for the sake of at least trying to save the anomalous world, for freedom, and...for euphoria. By any means necessary-"

Her eyes scan up across my body once more, and she motions a hand to my scaled, draconic form...

"-Is. This. Worth it?"

Containment Site 905, 20:28

Day comes to a close without incident. No-one asks me about anything Lina said, so presumably no-one has checked those tapes yet. Thank fuck. I can't imagine even a friend of hers like Dr Horatio would be willing to ignore what she's planning given how it'd screw him over, though presumably she already planned around that too...somehow.

Hrmmm.

The horrible thought occurs that she could have just been lying to me. Part of some larger test of my loyalty to see if I'd report someone betraying the Foundation. She'd certainly be the ideal person to use for such a thing. And...if that is the case, then by not speaking out so far, I've certainly already ruined my chances of ever getting out of this cage. I might have already ruined my own life, just by listening to someone I trusted!...

...Too late for regrets now either way. I give up pretending to work on writing my observations on 9950s effects, and shuffle back to my nest as the chamber lights fade into nighttime mode.

My nest is comfy, and familiar, and there's not a chance in hell I'm going to sleep tonight. Burning stress of betrayal aside, if everything Lina told me wasn't a lie, then I'll only have one chance for escape. I fuck it up, I die. If I'm too slow or too hasty, I die. If choose the wrong path, if I chose flight when I should have chosen fight, if I hesitate at the wrong moment, then I will die...

Looking at my chances, it honestly seems pretty insane that I'm going for this at all.

I tuck my head beneath my wing, close my eyes, and meticulously run over every detail of the plan while I pretend to rest.

Containment Site 905, 20:57

My tenth run through is interrupted by an alarm.

Not of the chamber speaker system, but that of the retro alarm clock tucked into my nesting material. Right. Go time th-

Everything is pitch black. I am falling, tumbling through what feels like open air, but what I know is actually the ground. It is so much more disorientating than I thought it would be, and I have exactly twenty seconds to figure it out or I'm dead.

My wings are open by the fifth, and I realize I don't know how to fly.

Three more pass, and I realize that I do.

It's not well thought out, not done with any strong consideration. If I think about it too hard, I will start to fail, and so I don't. I let my instincts take over and with euphoric ease, I start to climb. I can't call it soaring yet: I am still underground, and though the very first feeling of the "air" rushing across my wings and down my tail is something I will never forget, I need to see the sky, soon.

I know my time must be getting close now. Even though I feel every new wing beat in such clarity it feels like slow motion, even though I feel as if I could glide here forever, it must have been at least 15 seconds. I strain my eyes, but see nothing but darkness ahead.

Sixteen. Nothing.

Seventeen. Nothing

Eighteen. Noth-

Ah.

I will never know such beauty again as the twinkling of this star. Its light barely makes it through the storm-clouds, and it's so faint I wonder if I'm hallucinating it. But it's there. It's real. I reach forward a paw, as if I could grasp it out of the sky and hold it within my palm. I ascend. Higher and higher, free of the depths of the ground and the cage of my containment. My scales glisten in the rain and I stare, their gorgeous crimson red so spectacular in the trickle of moonlight. I soar, and burst up through the air effortlessly now, a newfound strength pouring through my body, as three hypersonic darts punch through my wing root.

Fuck.

I know it's probably not meant to kill, because they could have shot me in the head, but that's small comfort. I spin down to my right side as that wing collapses, dropping like a rock towards the cold wet earth beneath. I'm honestly fortunate that it's solid by the time I make contact, but the pain of falling seventy feet and skidding across the ground is...actually, surprisingly minimal. Or at least it's so massively outdone by the pain in my shoulder that it doesn't shock me enough to slow me down. Either way, I have never been more grateful for the adrenaline fueled ferality of my form than now as I slam my punctured wing tight against my back and erupt fourth, each step implanting my footprints deep into the earth and devouring hundreds of feet with each stride.

Site 905 is not a particularly large site, however it is very well armed. It was built not to contain a multitude of anomalies, but as a position to defend SCP-9950 from external attack should it become necessary. It just so happens that having a shitload of armored vehicles around is also a useful containment protocol in the event that the few anomalies contained there, me included, should escape.

This is a very bad thing for me. I was planning to fly out low, barely above the treeline, to at least minimize the time spent within range of the ground based defenses. But with my wing crippled by...fuck knows what, I'm forced to sprint across the sites open ground, without cover, and completely exposed. Even as I charge forwards now I see soldiers sprinting to their posts, rushing towards tanks and AA vehicles, engines throwing out clouds of diesel smoke as they rev up to kill me...or at least to break enough of my body that I stop running.

I find that it doesn't shock me, doesn't give me any pause. Even suddenly coming under a hail of ineffectual small arms fire barely makes me blink. I knew from the moment I took Linas deal that it would be like this, that I would be considered something to capture or eliminate the moment I was free. Though, that doesn't make it any less weird to suddenly find myself sprinting alongside a line of soldiers, all of whom want me dead. They don't bother trying to pepper me with rifle fire though, not like the others. Instead both of us are heading towards the end of the vehicle depot, and for them, presumably the wheeled IFV sitting there. I can't help but stare back as I easily leave them in my wake, more than a little offended that they don't even seem particularly deterred by my very heartfelt offended scowl. They're more confused, I think, by the fact that I'm not swinging at them...

I don't hurt them, but I'm neither nice nor stupid enough to let them use their vehicle either. I throw my next stride into its side, and try not to smile as it crumples beneath my forepaws, its wheels buckling and turret wrenched down at an odd angle. With the treeline now just ahead it serves as a decent springboard, the second high calibre shot of the day missing me and detonating through its crumpled armor just as I hurl myself down into the valley, towards the boundary of Site 905...

And then finally, I see it.

In front of me, taunting me with freedom, sits the outer wall. But I hear a turbine starting up somewhere to my left. I can go, right now. But if I leave it be, a helicopter gunship in the air can slaughter me from miles away....

Fight, or Flight?

...

I burst into the clearing for the helipad and the hangar, knowing I might have just signed my own death certificate. But they're not prepared for me. The rotors of the dark black attack helo are only just starting to turn, and though the .50 on the truck nearby opens up immediately, it's nothing but painful pinpricks. I reach out a paw to flick it onto its side gently as I can manage with this much adrenaline, before stomping a forepaw down through the tail-rotor of the heli. Concrete shattered, machine thoroughly disabled, and ground crew left shaking in abject terror, I turn and once more throw my body out towards the exterior wall. It's a touch too high to jump over, probably designed specifically for that purpose-

But it's just a wall. There's more than a touch of euphoria in charging almost directly through it, leaving the concrete shattered in my wake, and only forest ahead of me. But I don't allow myself complacency, certainly not yet; Instead I thunder on through the trees the best I can, tearing them apart as shots follows behind, trunks erupting into flame and shrapnel as I sprint, leap and bound, quite literally, for my life.

SCP-9950 containment chamber, at the same time...

"And you're sure they're not dead?"

"For the last time, yes. They might wake up with a crippling fear of beetles, but they're fine. Ish. More importantly, are you SURE you're actually gonna do this? You may need to kill some of your old colleagues to escape here you know."

"I...yes, I'm sure. I admit, this part is purely for my selfish desire to live, but I guarantee, if I AM alive, I can tangibly help you in stopping the Foundation. Now more than ever before. I just also don't want to kill anyone, if it can at all be helped."

"Hrm. Fine, whatever. You've bought yourself this at least I suppose, and I can't complain."

"I will if this goes wrong, I still don't trust this shit for a second. Why the hell aren't we just using the other version of this we found anyways?!"

"Because there's someone I owe at least a chance to escape, and...this happens to line up well. Plus the GOC already got to that one, had some trouble with it too."

"What, when?!"

"3 days ago. I've got...someone I trust over there looking into it still. No idea if they'll get back to me once they hear I've turned though."

"So, you're working with the fucking Book burners?! Oh yeah, this is definitely not feeling increasingly like a fucking trap."

"Eeeehhh, theeeey wouldn't go through this much effort to get us 3. Baaarely consider us two anomalous anymore."

"I...I have thrown away my entire life at the Foundation for this. I don't even know what they'd do if they capture me! I can't promise this will all work, only that I've done my best to ensure it does."

Lina steps through the entrance-way before the others can find anything to pick at again. She has to admit, if there was three people she was ever going to trust her life to, these would not be the three she'd choose. Granted, picking any three Serpents Hand members as career skipper wasn't ideal, but after the laundry list of secrets she'd handed to the ones she distrusted the least, they at least had good reason to take her word when she said she was turning her back on the Jailors...

"Aaaaalrighty, lets get this show on the road. How many reinforcement spells do you think we'll need for this, five prolly?"

"Make it seven. EVE to spare anyway. I can practically taste it in the air."

Ito and Adam. Though they couldn't be more different in their personalities, the pair were practically impossible to tell apart visually. They wore similar clothes, which she swore must have been on purpose, and their faces were so alike that anyone who didn't know them better would assume identical twins. They were not, and in fact, she strongly suspected they were rather into each other. Not that it was any of her business...

"They need to be equidistant too, all around the cave. And we've gotta activate it from inside the circle, so before we get to that- You. Is there ANYTHING else we should know before we begin?"

And that was Zuna. From what she could tell, they were the leader of this little group, though there didn't seem to be much of anything in the way of an official hierarchy. It was sort of refreshing after spending years grinding her way up the Foundation command chain, though it did seem to lead to a lot more discussion when she would have rather they just got on with things...

"Nothing I haven't said already. But to re-iterate, there might be some level of physical disorientation if you enter the water itself, so avoid that. Nisk was heavily affected by it, but I didn't feel much of anything beyond the EVE. Though...I do wonder what it's gonna feel like this time. Anyways, just stay out of the water. You can give whatever you've got the spells on-"

"Uh, excuse you? None of us are staying out of the water, that was never the plan"

"What? But it-"

Lina takes a second to asses the person standing in front of her, and then kicks herself for being a moron. She'd assumed that the horns, fangs, and yellowed draconic eyes of the person in front were some natural part of their body, just normal for whatever species they are: it only now occurs to her that they've probably modified themselves with magic to gain those traits...for the exact same reason that she herself is in this cave right now.

"...Right. Apologies, that's on me. I of course have no problem with all of you coming in too. I'd just misunderstood a few things. Frankly I think the Impasse must be getting to me faster than I'd realized, but right. Save for that, no, there's nothing else. And the plan doesn't change no matter how many of us go at once."

Zuna looks a tad suspicious, but seems to actually ease off when once they spot the trace of embarrassment on the Docs face. They give a bit of a chuckle to break the tension, and a short pat on her shoulder as they stroll past to start working on the spells they need...

"It's fine, as long as nothing's changed. Just remember, you're far from the only dragon in the world who needs to slip into their scales. Now come with me. Once I drop the last spell, we're starting immediately."

Lina offers a confident nod and strides after Zuna; but truth be told, her heart is practically beating out of her chest. It's about the only thing still pushing her forwards, as she otherwise drowns in fears and doubts about everything she's committed herself to, everything she's done, everyone she's betrayed...

But none of that is at the forefront of her thoughts right now. Instead, ringing through her mind clearer than anything else, is what Zuna just said...

She's about to slip into her scales.

The forest outside of Containment Site 905, 21:07

I am definitely lost. I'm not sure why I thought I could find my way out through a forest that's almost certainly been thaumaturgically modified to be confusing, but now I'm strongly regretting it. Even as far as being a distraction goes, I can't tell how long I've been running for, and if they realize that I'm just lost in the forest the priority in capturing me above all else falls dramatically!

It doesn't actually help to reduce a nearby tree to shattered splinters, but I swing a paw and do it anyways. This would all be so, so damn simple if I hadn't flown too high, and gotten my damn wing destroyed! Why, the fuck didn't I just stick to the fucking plan, WHY DIDN'T I JUST STAY LOW AND-

No. Not the time. I can kick myself later. Right now, escape takes priority above all else. I may be lost, but at the very least I also don't seem to be close to the site anymore. The blaring alarms have faded enough that I can't tell the direction, and the smell of concrete from the new construction around the area is totally absent. All I need to do is keep heading vaguely "away", and eventually the forest must have an end. I know what I'm looking for too; an abandoned gas station on the highway that passes by the edge of the site. All I need to do is escape the forest, and follow the road...

....

Fifteen minutes later, and I'm still in this fucking forest. Except now it's on fire and I'm being shot.

It's agony. Screaming agony. If I stop for a second for relief, I won't get back up again. Each hit tears chunks out of my flesh, chipping away, grinding me down. If I had breath to roar, or scream, I would but every single gasp is dedicated now to running.

More shells hit me. My left wing is barely hanging on. I'm bleeding. I'm bleeding so much. I can't think properly. I can't dodge. It hurts. I want to make it stop. It hurts. I want to FUCKING KILL THEM. IT HURTS.

The trees give way for road, and I wish they hadn't. There's no more cover, and though I must do this to escape, more shots are landing now than ever. I get up much more speed, and I try to zigzag, but there's too much incoming fire and I keep getting hit no matter what I do but I can't kill them, but I WANT TO.

It's close now. The end. Dust from its rotor-wash blows past me, and the sound of its blades beating the air into submission drowns out everything but the pain. Dirt blows into my wounds. I keep sprinting. It circles around, and a voice shouts something at me but I can't think, it's just noise. I see fallen trees close by through darkened vision and I see the THING, the thing causing me so much pain hovering dangerously close and I just want to KILL IT, before it kills me, but I can't, I can't do it because I have to prove that even now that I'm truly me I'm not just a mons-

It explodes. Not in fire but in motion. Wrenched around into a spin as an entire tree is caught in its rotor blades, the sound of twisting, grinding metal replacing the whooping of the blades as they shear off. It falls down dead, but something large and green and like me catches it before it hits the ground. I can't think about what it is, and I can't think about fighting anything anymore and so I can no longer stay conscious. I pass out into a growing pool of my own blood, carried into the darkness by the sound of wings...