#Lang-Scranton Stabilizer

[riah-fafa]

._.

[fourphoenixfeathers]

New niche obscure crossover au upon ye!

This time on Ingo getting eeby deebied: SCP 3001!

Some of my followers might have heard of 3001 bc I love this article, but here's some context:

Short version: a scientist accidentally opens a wormhole into a dimension where nothing exists, and he starts to fall apart because the nothingness is contagious.

Long version: Robert Scranton researches ontokinetics, the physics of reality warping and how to counter it. He and his wife, Anna Lang are working on something they call the Lang-Scranton Stabilizer that they believe can stop things that would warp or manipulate reality in dangerous ways.

An earthquake happens on site and breaks many prototypes, causing a wormhole to open up and suck Robert in, along with a nearby control panel. For the next five years, Robert records his experience and his slow descent into madness on that control panel. The control panel returns to reality, telling the people in the real world what happened for the five years it was recording, but Scranton's true fate is unknown. It seems unlikely he makes it out alive.

The original article is heartbreaking and has some descriptions of gore and psychological horror, but if you are good with that, I encourage you to check it out! My au will be lighter on the psychological horror but about the same on gore, so.

Of course, I had to get attached to this sad man and his sad ending. So I will be throwing Ingo into the evil nothingness dimension so I can pull him out and give him the happy ending I want for Scranton sjjsjfnncn

This is a dojoshipping au bc it's my favorite ship and I feel like Robert and Anna are precious to me. Really that's the only reason why. *Holds Zisu gently* I just think she's neat.

Extra doodles, as a treat!

[lordhavemercyyyyy]

I WROTE THIS IN THE 7TH GRADE SO ENJOY MY CRINGE

IT'S SCP BASED, SCP 3001, I WAS OBSESSED OKAY?!?!?!?

Dr. Robert Scranton and his wife, Dr. Anna Lang, the site directors for SCP Foundation site 120, the main containment and research site for anomalous objects and entities with reality-bending abilities, not only made the Scranton Stabilizer, but have also created a prototype for the Lang-Scranton Stabilizer (LSS). During a test in the site’s Reality Lab, major seismic activity rocked the site to its core. While nobody noticed at the time, a hole opened in the control panel which Dr. Scranton was operating, dragging Dr. Scranton and the control panel into what is now known as SCP-3001. The researchers at site 120 believed that Dr. Scranton died quickly without any pain at all. But, they couldn’t be sure.

SCP-3001 is reported to be an alternate universe which presents as a pitch-black space, with not a single bit of light or life at all. No food, no water, nothing. This is what Dr. Scranton endured for 5 years, 11 months, and 21 days. 2 years in, however, Dr. Scranton made a certain discovery, the only reason we have a record of what lies within SCP-3001 to this day.

2 years. For 2 years, Dr. Scranton walked through the darkness. He couldn’t stop and eat; there was no food or water there. He couldn’t die, either; this seemed normal, in a way. After all, this was another world, the kind of thing Dr. Scranton studied for a living, at a job he shared with his wife. His wife. Anna. He almost forgot her name. Things have been slipping from his memory lately. His thoughts trailed off as he walked through the darkness, walking slowly towards the blinking red light.

Wait. Light? There isn’t anything that can emit light here. There shouldn’t be.

The light grew closer. The control panel! Soon, that very control panel became an anchor for Dr. Scranton. 3 more years flew by. In that time, Dr. Scranton had managed to decipher why this place was the way it is. The hume level was so very, very low. The hume level of an object reflects on how real it is, at least, in our understanding of reality according to how our plane of existence operates. Time passed, and as it did, Dr. Scranton could feel himself slowly fading away. He started repeating certain crucial facts. Name? Robert Scranton. Favorite color? Blue. Wife? Anna. This would go on and on. One day, he started to feel… strange. He looked down at himself and saw his own cells being pulled apart and becoming one with the darkness surrounding him. Pulling away more, and more, and more, until all that was left was a couple organs, a blood-stained control panel, and one gold ring.

Around 15 years later, there in the very lab this all started in, as Dr. Anna Lang stood in that lab, the control panel suddenly returned to that lab, to our plane. Dr. Lang stared at the control panel, horrified. She saw the organs, the blood, and the ring. Suddenly, she knew. They were wrong about her husband’s death. Robert didn’t die quickly like they all thought. He must have suffered so, so much. Anna picked up the ring, the last shred of the man she loved. She kept it in her pocket when she went to work each day for a while. After some time, she put it on a necklace and wore that necklace wherever she went. Anna never forgot him. She never could. She soon stayed in her office later and later into the night. Her coworkers would joke that she might as well start sleeping on site, since that was the only thing she went home to do. She would often become quite upset at these comments, and those who remarked about such things soon ceased to do so.

Dr. Lang was working late that night, as usual. She was sitting there at her desk, focused on the papers in front of her, illuminated by the incandescent lightbulb in her lamp. She looked up sharply. She heard something. Footsteps. Probably someone on security passing by. But then again, these footsteps weren’t like a guard’s. They were lighter, and a guard’s heavy boots couldn’t make such little noise. Dr. Lang stood from her chair to investigate the sound. As she walked, she heard another sound, something she didn’t recognize, coming from behind her. She turned to look, immediately seeing the kidney sitting atop her papers. She could tell, even without touching it, that if she did, it would still be warm. She heard another sound, a slow dripping noise from the same direction she heard the footsteps coming from. Turning around once again, Dr. Lang saw the black ooze dripping from the ceiling. Drip, drip, drip. She quickly ran out of the room and down the hallway, calling for help. She turned a corner and saw one of the mobile task force officers down the hallway she was running into. Dr. Lang recognized him. Frank! He could help her! She called out to him, and he turned quickly. He saw the fear on her face and soon reached for his gun.

Drip, drip, drip. Black ooze once again began dripping from the ceiling, but this time, it wasn’t just ooze that came from the ceiling. This time, an old man dropped down from the ooze. Frank began shooting at him, but the man soon grabbed him and dragged him down into a puddle of the same ooze that was on the ceiling, now on the floor. Dr. Lang ran away from that spot as fast as she could. She got quite far, but she tired herself out. She stopped running and took a moment to rest. But rest is a valuable privilege that SCP foundation staff are deprived of. The old man appeared beside Dr. Lang. She tried to run, but the old man grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him.

“Anna.”

Dr. Lang froze. He knew her name. She turned and looked at his face. Now that she was really looking, she slowly began to recognize him. “Robert…?” The old man smiled, and soon Anna returned that familiar smile she knew was her husband’s. She hugged him, ignoring the fact that her arm was slowly turning into the same black ooze that Robert could now create. Anna no longer cared. She was happy. Her husband was back, and she felt that if she died there, in that hallway, she would die happy. The ooze continued to spread, and Dr. Anna Lang was no more. She became part of the ooze, and she would remain by her husband’s side… forever.

[girldraki]

hey red i’m testing the lang scranton stabilizer

[let-them-eat-rakes]

RED REALITY (part 1)

(my longest post yet.)

Item #: SCP-3001

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: To prevent further accidental entries into SCP-3001, all Foundation reality-bending technology will be upgraded/modified with multiple newly developed safeguards to prevent Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole creation. While knowledge of SCP-3001 is available to personnel of any level should they wish to learn about it, research and experimentation with SCP-3001 and its associated technology is strictly limited to personnel of Level 3 and above, with special clearance designation granted from Sites 120, 121, 124, and 133.

Description: SCP-3001 is a hypothesized paradoxical parallel/pocket "non-dimension" accessible through the creation of a momentary Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole.(1) While believed to be an infinitely extending parallel universe, SCP-3001 is almost completely devoid of any matter and has an extremely low Hume Level of 0.032,(2) contradicting Kejel's Laws of Reality with the relation between Humes and spacetime. This phenomenon causes matter inside it to decay at an extremely low rate, and damage that would otherwise prove fatal does not impede any biological/electronic function; simulations suggest an organism can lose more than 70% of their body's tissue and still operate normally, as long as at least 40% of the brain remains. However, prolonged exposure will cause said matter to gradually approach SCP-3001's own Hume Level, resulting in severe tissue/structural damage as the matter's own Hume Field begins to disintegrate.

SCP-3001 was initially discovered on January 2, 2000, at Site-120, a facility dedicated to testing and containing reality-bending technology. Dr. Robert Scranton and his wife Dr. Anna Lang were Head Researchers at Site-120, and were developing an experimental device, called the "Lang-Scranton Stabilizer" (LSS).(3) Dr. Scranton was transported to SCP-3001 after unexpected seismic activity damaged several active LSS in Site-120 Reality Lab A.

Initially presumed dead, Dr. Scranton has survived in SCP-3001 for at least five years, 11 months, and 21 days. During this time, he was able to record his experiences and observations within SCP-3001 through a somehow still functioning LSS control panel, which was also brought into SCP-3001 with him through the Class-C "Broken Entry" Wormhole. These recordings were later recovered upon the panel's sudden return, an unexpected side effect from testing improved reality-bending technology; these logs are the basis of SCP-3001 study. Despite new technologies being developed, retrieval and re-integration of Dr. Scranton has been unsuccessful. His current physical and mental states, if he is still alive, are unknown. [Further information on Dr. Scranton's possible retrieval is under Ethics Committee review.] Transcripts of Dr. Scranton's logs are below.

[No discernible/coherent dialogue can be heard from Dr. Scranton for the first eight days. He cycles through periods of panic, confusion, and anger throughout, and it seems he was attempting to navigate SCP-3001 to find a way out. He finally moved close enough to the recording log on the eleventh day, though did not notice it was operating for several more hours.]

…

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Favorite song, "Living on a Prayer."

Wife… Anna…

Anna…

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Favorite song, "Living on a Prayer."

Wife, Anna. She has green eyes. I love her very much.

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Height, 178 cm.

Weight, 85 kg.

Wife, Anna. Anna, I'm sorry.

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

My wife's name is Anna. We got married August 12, 1991.

I hope she got out okay.

Please let her be all right, please let her be all right.

Robert, Scranton. 39. Anna, blue, wife. Please… please, God, please…

Anna… Anna… Anna bo banna… Anna bo banna…

What the… what the hell is that? [It is assumed at this point Dr. Scranton noticed the flashing light of the recording module.]

What the fuck, this thing's actually recording?

[Metallic clang heard.]

[Voice is highly agitated and panicked.] My name, is Robert Scranton. Yeah, yeah, my name, is Robert Scranton, former researcher at Foundation Site-120. It has been… I don't know, actually, I… I can't remember. I… I estimate it's been ten days, but, I-I-I don't, I can't… Oh God, can anyone hear me?! I-I-I don't know what's happened, I-I don't know where I am, and-and, please, please is anyone there?! Hello?! Anyone?! ANYONE?!

No one can hear me. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Why the hell is this thing even working, it can't be working, it SHOULDN'T be working, so what the hell?! I need to — God, I need to, I need to… see, how… long can I talk here, I think there's a-a-a cap or something on the recording log, and I-I-I can't see anything, I can only see the red light blinking on and off, I can't see any of the switches next to it…

I'm really hungry.

Thirsty, too. I think I should be dead from dehydration by now, but… I don't know.

Hi, little red light. Can you talk to me? Can you talk to… Anna, for me? Hello?

I found the controls.

Two weeks, three days, forty-seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Two weeks, three days, forty-seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

Oh… Jesus.

ERROR WITH PLAYBACK, ERROR WITH PLAYBACK. ERROR WITH PLAYBACK.

Wherever the hell I am, I'm pretty sure now that… I don't need to eat to stay alive. It hurts… a lot, but… at this point I don't think I'm gonna die… So… I'm gonna… I'm gonna take my time… I guess. I… Maybe some sort of miracle will happen and I'll get out. Heh. Keep dreaming, Robert. Yeah, I'm… I'm tired, I'm gonna sleep.

Three weeks, four days, nineteen hours.

I have a picture of Anna in my pocket. I almost forgot. Little red light, let me see her face, please? Just a little bit, I just… I just want to see her a bit.

Hi, Anna, I'm still here, I'm still here. I'm coming back, okay?

Two months, four days, three hours.

… Hi. Robert here. Yeah, I-I haven't really recorded much to hear in the past few weeks. Ha. Hahahaha… Hahaha… huh… huh…

Sorry, gotta keep it together. Breathe.

I've been… I've been busy. Trying to learn more about the place I'm in. My prison. My kingdom all my own. Heh, King Robert. God, I stink. Is there even air in this goddamn place? Stinky King Robert, king of GODDAMN NOTHING FUCK.

…Sorry, sorry. I, I gotta keep this professional. I'll… I'll come back when I'm feeling rested.

… Okay, here goes. [Inhales then exhales deeply.]

My name is… Robert Scranton. I am a former Head Researcher of Site… 120, a Foundation facility dedicated to studying various reality-bending SCPs, for the purpose of developing more advanced countermeasures towards such threats.

For the last… red light, speak to me,

Two months, eight days, sixteen hours.

What red light said. I have been trapped in what I believe to be an empty pocket dimension. Alone. Yeah… alone. All alone.

I'm calling this place SCP… I don't know, I can't remember where we are, screw it. I don't know what's happened in the past… red light, please, again.

Two months, eight days, sixteen hours.

But… no one else is around to argue, and at this point… I'm just talking into this control panel to keep myself together. I… I need to keep a record. There might be some poor bastard in the future who ends up like me, and… if this ever actually makes it out… maybe, maybe I can help stop that from happening. That's all I have going for me right now, and I really need something to go for, hahahaha…

…So, yeah, Robert… Scranton… documenting a new SCP for… future research purposes. That'll have to do. Here we go!

- Close.

…

Two months, eleven days, ten hours.

Item number, SCP I don't fucking care.

Object Class, Euclid, I guess, but I don't know, I might update this in time. I need to explore more.

Special Containment Procedures, god I sound so much like a shrink right now… Um… I don't know if we could… contain wherever I am. It's… definitely not on Earth. To be honest I don't know where it is. I… I think it has do something with the Stabilizer prototype… I'll explain that more later. Okay… um… yeah, wherever I am, I don't think it can be contained much as… created. No, no, that's not the word I'm looking for. Um… entered. Yeah, entered is better. I came into this place because of some really bad reality-bending accident and… no, no, Robert, don't be like that yet, you don't know if there's no exit yet. Ooooh… livin' on a prayer… halfway… there. Ahem.

Two months, eleven days, eighteen hours.

So… wait, no, Description, Robert, stick to the format… This place… It's some sort of reality gap, I think. It's dark. Really dark. As in, this little red light that shows my words are actually being recorded is the only visible light in this entire place. I can't see my hands, and I can barely see the control panel here. I've had to basically use the light as a center, and remember how many steps I take and in which direction. I haven't gone past a hundred yet. I'm too… I'm too scared to. Heh. I wonder if my hair is turning white, right now? I can't even see what color it is anymore. Speaking of which, my head has been a bit itchy recently. If I don't concentrate on it, it's fine, but I feel this… tingling all over my face. I'm not sure why.

Two months, fifteen days, four hours.

Okay… hoooo… I-I need to relax for a minute, Jesus, god, shit. Holy… shit, shit, shit… I… just discovered a new property of this place. All this time, I've been thinking I might be walking on… some sort of… flat ground, if you will. I kept eye contact with little red as far as I could see, and it seems I could walk in a straight, flat path. Jesus, my head is buzzing right now, I think the adrenaline is still kicking… But, if my hypothesis is correct, and this really is some sort of reality… void, then there shouldn't be anything to walk on. Now that I think about, the whole time I've been in here, it's felt like… I'm walking, but I'm also swimming through something. And this something is thick, and form-fitting, it has this… pressure, which I know isn't the correct term, but goddamn it, this place makes no damn sense and I'm doing my best to understand it, okay?!

God… Sorry.

So, the best analogy I can come up with is… it's like I'm walking through really thick black gel. There's enough tension to keep me on a… "surface", but if I… imagine myself pressing down hard enough, I can descend. Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, I think… I think I need to test this more, I'll be back.

Two months, seventeen days, two hours.

Navigation is largely affected by… conscious impulses to travel in a certain direction. So, this definitely isn't a complete reality gap, at least according to mine and Anna's theories. If-if it were I wouldn't have been able to move at all, since space wouldn't have existed. Holy shit, okay, okay, this makes a lot more sense than it did before, great, great job, Robert, you're getting there. …Come to think of it, I should've realized that sooner when I was able to move in a flat plane to and from little red. It also explains why I'm not dead from dehydration or hunger yet, time barely passes in here. Okay yeah, so, I stood right next to little red, and went straight… "down." Okay, from here on out, imagine little red as the origin of a 3D space. I went straight… down, right, yeah, and then… and then I was then able to come back "up" to little red again. I've also been able to "fly" above red. Movement in here is slow, like I said, gel analogy, best I can describe it by.

Two months, twenty-two-days, three hours.

Reporting back for another update, red, SIR! Hahaha, come on red, lighten up. Ha! Pun not intended… Come on red, crack a little smile, it's funny!

…

… Fine, whatever. Ahem.

This place still seems like it barely follows Kejel's Laws of Reality Parameters. And by barely, I mean, really just barely. I'm pretty sure my math is right, but… hold on, I'm gonna check again…

Jesus. Yeah, yeah, pretty sure it's good still. Okay, this place… if we're using the standard Hume scale, I'm pretty sure I'm in a reality where the Hume Field is… point zero… four… ish. Yeah, really, really, really fucking low, so… Like I said above, space-time exists on a very minuscule scale, so my biology is not getting shot to hell and back because of any malnutrition, but that also means… I… I'm actually not sure what that also means…

…

Adding on from the last entry. I'm… I'm not sure how my biology will react in such a low Hume concentration, actually. I mostly worked with higher than average Hume Fields, and the reality benders we tested never had a Field lower than 0.8. This… this is gonna be a first. An all-time first. I remember Site-133's "Prommel Killer", they called it that because it broke the previous theory about the lowest limit of Hume concentration. Really expensive, really weird machine that brought down a small area to 0.4. 0.05 is… yeah.

I was lying. I was lying, last log… I… I'm lying to myself. My own body, and… little red here too… We're about the realest things in this place. And that means… over time… the Hume field's going to want to… equalize, and… I'm… I'm gonna go for now, I have some… some calculation to do again. Red, Anna, take note I'm using Kejel's Second, Third, and Fourth Laws, got it? Use… use 0.05 as the surrounding, my external field as… somewhere in between 1 and 1.4, use the Second Law's error estimation correction, and my internal as… as… as… shit. I'm not done yet.

I am real. I am super-real. Super duper real. Ultra real, the realest guy in a world of no-real.

You have no sense of humor as usual, red. I'm talking about the LSS, red. When we got sent here, I think… I think our reality got cranked up a notch. Red, didn't you pay attention in class? Hey, don't get fucking smart with me, red. Okay, the point is, the LSS surge got us up to… to…

Two months, eighteen days, seven hours.

No, red, not even fucking close, you must've converted Kejel's Third Law equation wrong. Because of the malfunctioning LSS we got blasted by, we're somewhere in between 2.2 and 3.6. Yes, that's good red, that's very good, because that means we have more time than we thought to… to… yes, red, before we fucking DIE, okay?!

Two months, twenty four days, five hours.

About three years. Four, if… If I don't interact too much. If… If I had had an LSS here, I could maybe stretch it out to… eight, maybe, that's best case scenario… But I have… I have to… I… know… but… but… three years. Three years, then it's past the point of no return. Ha. Hahahahaha. I should… I should definitely figure something out by then. I think I still should be pretty good for a while… At least… no, no, I won't be in here that long… I'll definitely figure something out…

Anna, what would we do with a case like this? I need your help, honey. That… that tingling I've been feeling… That's my Hume Field diffusing… My… my reality fading… Three years. I need to stabilize myself within three years.

I've been thinking… Anna and I, we had this theory… Even though the Hume Field is low, it's still a Hume Field. And precisely since it's so low, Hume diffusion should take quite a while. Now if… if I could… contain… recycle the fields, keep the diffusion from spreading too thin, I could… And I could also maybe… it's only a theory, but… It's worth a shot. But that means…

Hey, red. I… I'm gonna have to go for a bit. I want to test something, and you can't come with me. I… I'm sorry. No, no, red, I'm really, really sorry, I want you to come, I do, but… if we're together the diffusion will increase faster… We both need as much time as possible. I need to figure this place out more, and you need to make sure you keep all that info in your head. It's… red, come on. You- you'll be fine red, I know you will, you're tough. A lot tougher than me… it'll only be for a bit, red, but I need to see if I can find a way to keep us alive a bit longer. Maybe even get us out of here. If I can contain enough field, I can… I can maybe even get us out. No, no I'm not sure, but I need to find out. Red, we're talking about possibly escaping, okay? Yeah, it's a gap. A gap should have an end, like a… like the walls of a canyon, understand? I need to find a wall, and then, and then I can…

…

I'm sorry, red, I hope we're still friends when I come back.

…

I'm… I'm going now… I'll see you soon.

…

- Close.

Six months, ten days, five hours.

Hello again, little red. It's been a while.

You know… thinking back… I don't know what the hell I was so excited about. This place is… god, this place. This place is is fucking… hell.

There's no end. It just goes on. And on. And on.

I traveled in one goddamn direction for two, damn, months. God, I'm so fucking stupid, why did I think I could get out? I'm thinking like those old European shits that thought the end of the world was at the horizon. Fucking stupid, Robert, stupid, just-just- GAAAAAAAAAAAH—

If I let myself fall down long enough would I eventually hit a bottom?

Ten months, 28 days, 15 hours.

There's no bottom. And fuck you, red.

I'm sorry, red, don't go out, I'm sorry I turned you off, come back, come back, please—

… I turned 40 today. Happy birthday, Robert.

I was adopted, did you know that? Yeah, my parents left me in a box on the side of a street. Got picked up by some American couple, which explains my not-so-Chinese names. I don't even know my original last name. Just thought I'd share. How about you, red?

Anna and I met on-site in 1988. God she was beautiful. She still is. It was our eyes. She has beautiful eyes. My eyes are grey, they're boring, but hers… God they're beautiful. Do you think… Do you think she's still worried about me, little red? Is she looking for me?

You know, red, you're a great listener. But I never hear you talk about yourself. Come on, don't be shy, there's no one else around, right? Hahaha, right? Hahaha… hahahahaha…

"I'm sorry, Robert, I'm afraid I can't do that." Hahaha, red, you're hilarious.

Were you married? Kids? Any family at all? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Come on, red, I won't judge, just… talk to me, please. God, my head hurts. And my feet feel like they've been asleep for forever.

I worked at a comic store as a kid. So much cheaper back then, and I got free stuff at the end of each week. I liked Spiderman the best.

I was in a box, side of the street.

I… what the fuck… no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, red, have you seen my picture? The picture red, Anna's picture, where is - come on, come on, where-where- Anna! ANNA! ANNA! Where did - no, no, no, no, no, please, please no, anything but, PLEASE.

It's fading, she's fading, she's fading, please, Anna, no, please, come on, sweetie, stay here, it's too soon, it's TOO SOON, my math isn't wrong, it's NOT WRONG, YOU SHOULD BE FINE. ANNA, ANNA, I can't hold you, come back, Anna, sweetie, honey, Anna please, I need you, I need you, please, please, don't go, I'm here, I'm still here. RED GET HELP. Anna, please, please, don't go, don't -

Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. Black hair, green eyes, 160. [Dr. Scranton repeats this for three hours.]

Anna and I got married in '91. We couldn't really get the nicest suit and dress we wanted because of work, but, damn, we both looked great. Anna looked better, of course. We just danced, and danced the whole night, got the whole week off. Even a job like mine lets you enjoy your honeymoon… So, come on red, open up, put 'er there, high five. Come on. Come on, red.

One year, two months, twenty-seven days.

…

…

AAAAAAA—

[The next recordings only play the control panel's automated voice giving times, with intervals of one to three days, with several month-long gaps in between as well; also intermixed are Dr. Scranton's sobbing, screaming, and mumbling. These recordings continue until the time reading reaches two years, seven months, and 28 days, after which they cease to pick up any sound until two months later.]

[let-them-eat-rakes]

RED REALITY (finale)

On December 23, 2005, the LSS Control Panel spontaneously appeared back within the Site-120 testing facility, Reality Lab A.

…

Doctor, initial Hume Field readings of the Anchor are stable. Output readings are 2.3, with a 0.001% fluctuation.

Good, Skinner, let's hope that holds.

Hold on. What the hell?

What's wrong?

Something has appeared inside the testing zone.

What?

Ma'am, a large object has materialized within the Anchor field. What's the call? Kill the power? Call in the team?

Skinner, what the hell are you- Oh my god. What the— where the hell did that thing come from?!

I don't know ma'am, it just — it just appeared out of nowhere. It… it looks like it's covered in… what the hell is that— [Gags.] Oh god, it smells awful, I can smell it from here, Jesus Christ—

[Gags.] It smells like… death, it's like… vomit and — and blood, and… and…

…

Ma'am?

Oh my god.

Ma'am?

Do not abort, Skinner, I repeat, do not abort, keep that field up, and do not abort!

Ma'am, what's going on? Ma'am? Ma'am!

Reduce Hume Field to 1.7, I'm entering the containment zone, do not disengage the field, or we risk destabilizing the object!

Uh, yes ma'am! [Mechanical whirring heard.] Uh, reporting, yes, this is Dr. Matthew Skinner, requesting…

[Splashing footsteps heard.]

Oh, god, what the hell, what — what is all this? This… this is… this is the… Oh, god. Robert? Robert?! Robert, is this you? Oh, god, please, please, no, don't let it be you, don't let it be you, Robert?! I thought, I thought — How can this thing be—? [Splashing footsteps heard again.]

[Electronic beeping.]

Ma'am? Ma'am? What are you doing, you shouldn't touch —

This is the Lang Scranton Stabilizer interface. Welcome back, Dr. Lang, what would you like to—

Access Audio Log, play back starting from January 2, 2000! [Squishing noise heard.] Oh god, oh god, what the hell happened to this thing, it's like someone exploded on it, it's like — [Gag.] That's… oh god is that… is that… oh god, oh god, please, please, no, please, don't be — [Gasp, then sob.] It's grey, his grey, oh, god, where's the other…?

Accessing audio files. Please verbally state your password to continue, Dr. Lang.

[Voice begins to break.]—… [Gags.] Password… Password is "Anna bo banna"! Oh my god… He's… it's everywhere, what the hell?…

Request acknowledged. Processing… I'm sorry, there are no audio logs for January 2, 2000. Dr. Scranton accessed log on January 13, 2000 via voice-recognition at time—

[Metallic slam.] PLAY BACK NOW DAMMIT, PLAY IT BACK! [Sobbing.] Oh god, Robert, Robert, sweetie, what — what happened to—?

Confirmed, Dr. Lang, retrieving audio files…

Ma'am you really shouldn't be touching that barehanded, it could be hazardous, you should wait for the cleaning team to—

There's so much blood here, there's so much, honey. Are you okay?! Where did you go?! Oh god, oh god, oh god… [Sound of splattering and squeaking, as if wiping away fluid.] Oh, god, there's so much blood… [Squishing noise.] What…? …Oh my… [Choking gasp, then silence for twenty seconds.]

Ma'am! Ma'am! Dr. Lang, please, please, step away from the—

His hand. His ring… It just fell to the…

Ma'am, what—? Oh. Oh, shit. Oh, Jesus Christ. Dr. Lang, step away, please, come back! We'll get you out here for now, everything will be all right!

Files retrieved, Dr. Lang. Playing now.

Dr. Lang, please, come with me, we'll get help, you hear me? Dr. Lang? Dr. Lang, can you hear me?! Dr. Lang?!

Name, Robert Scranton. Age, 39. Birthday, September 19, 1961.

Favorite color, blue.

Favorite song, "Living on a Prayer."

Wife… Anna…

Anna…

[Thudding sound heard, as if falling on wet pavement.]

Dr. Lang? Dr. Lang! Report, this is Dr. Matthew Skinner, reporting from Site-120 Reality Lab A, I need medical attention here immediately!

Footnotes

1. A previously hypothetical type of wormhole that does not transport matter to the expected location, or has a spacetime flaw that may randomly and dangerously eject matter mid-travel.

2. For more information on Humes and reality physics, refer to documents JEK-WT01 and JEK-EB02.

3. The LSS was the prototype whose design would go on to become the basis for the current "Reality Anchor" project.

4. No audible hum is picked up by the control panel at the time. It is believed that the frequency was too low to be detected.