Hey everyone, it's Pacific, and welcome to Season 8 of SCP Archives. We are so excited to be back, and we're back with a story that I've been wanting to cover for forever. SCP... If you don't know, on the wiki, this article is entirely made up of images. There is no text to be found whatsoever. And in an audio-only medium... That's kind of hard to translate, but we have a wonderful script writer, Kevin, who has pulled together some SCPs.
ran a bit of an original story and put together this really incredible piece on SCP-2521. So finally, after eight seasons, we are able to cover one of my favorite SCPs. With the new season, I have one small humble request. If you haven't already, please leave us a review on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.
Reviews are one of the best ways to get our show into the ears of new listeners, and this year we're hoping to attract more listeners than ever before. And if you've already left a review, thank you. It means the world to us, and it really does help. Now, with all of that out of the way, I'm going to get out of the way so you can enjoy the first episode of Season 8. Up next, a quick ad break, and then this week's episode. Enjoy.
Site 201, Novel Anomalies Division, Test Chamber 3, July 26th, 2015, 6.15 p.m. D-8931, welcome to the Novel Anomalies Division. We have a simple task for you today. Please take a seat. Okay. On the table in front of you, there is a television set. In a moment, it will turn on. I want you to describe everything you see. Okay. No problem. Very good. Let's begin. The TV is on.
I see someone in a dress shirt and vest reading a book. There are bookcases all over the place. Some kind of library, maybe? A dark shape has come into the frame from the other side. As it appears, all the books on the shelves get blown around. Very good, D8931. Is this a horror movie? I hate horror movies. What can you tell me about the creature you see in the video? It's kind of hard to make out. Can you rewind? Of course. It's... You gotta be someone in a weird costume. Go on.
It looks like someone wrapped head to toe in black tape or something. What else can you tell me? It's big. Way bigger than the person in the video. At least a foot or two taller. It's hard to say. The thing is thick too. Its arms look thicker than my legs and the tape is like hanging off it and blowing behind it as it moves down the aisle. What? What the hell? As expected. Site 201. Novel Anomalies Division. Test Chamber 4. July 26th, 2015. 6.30pm.
D-8934. If you're done with your tantrum, we have a simple task for you. Please take a seat. Fuck you, prick. D-8934, you will not eat tonight if you fail to comply with my requests. What the fuck you wasn't clear? I apologize, D-8934. It seems that I wasn't clear. You are a serial murderer and a rapist. Maybe you think you were saved from lethal injection as an act of divine mercy. Let me assure you that whatever it is you believe, there is no one to save you here.
The powers that be felt your crimes were so heinous they have condemned you directly to hell. I am the devil, and I can do whatever I want with you. And if you don't do what I say, I'll have my associates beat the disrespect out of your filthy mouth with their batons. I promise you'll still be able to complete my simple task when they're done, but you'll be sucking nutrients through a straw for the rest of your miserable life. All I want you to do...
You sit in that chair and write down what appears on the television screen. Now it's your choice. Would you like to accomplish this task while you still have the lower half of your face? Or should I send in my friends? You don't scare me. Are you sure about that, D8934? Because if you're really not scared, we can remedy that situation quite easily. This is the last time I'm going to ask.
Sit in the chair, please. What do you want me to do? That's much better, T8934. A video is going to play on the screen. Yeah, yeah. Please continue writing D8934, as much detail as you can, please. The fuck? Please watch your language, D8934. This is one of my associates. Z has very sensitive ears. Please try to remain calm. Holy fucking shit! Die freak!
Very interesting. It's a good thing you followed my instructions, D8934. It seems our guest prefers to take the pad with your writing instead of your miserable life. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus. Please help me. Please get me out of here, please get me out of here. Well done, D8934. See, I told you it would be easy. Once my friend leaves, the security team will come in and take you back to your cell.
Don't give them any trouble and I'll make sure you get something nice to eat for dinner. Oh, jeez. Please get me out of here. Two days earlier, John P. Roberts Research Library, 10th floor, July 24th, 2015, 2.35 p.m. Good afternoon, Monty. Nice best. Hey, Miss Demmers. Thanks. Trying to look the part, you know? Very classy. You look like an English teacher. How's class?
You know how it is. The lectures are boring, but at least this is my last year. When you're done with those, there's another cart near the computer over there that needs your attention. Great, I'll take care of them once I'm done with these. Thanks, Moni. Have a great day. You too. What was that? Huh. What do we have here? No DDC label. Did someone take it off? Excuse me? Let's keep it down for the sake of the other students please.
Done with your card already, Monty? Nah. I just found a book that doesn't belong here. It doesn't have a Dewey Decimal label, so... I'm just checking to see if it's part of a collection. It probably belongs to one of the students. Let me see. Cracking at the seams. There's no RFID chip or circulation card. Someone must have left it in the library and got it put on the returns card by mistake.
It isn't coming up in a search. Definitely not one of ours. Just put it in the Last and Found. If no one claims it, maybe it'll get added to the collection. Huh. That's weird. Nothing about it on the internet, either. What did you say? See for yourself? Can't find the title online, either. Huh?
There's no author, publisher, or ISBN. Not even a dust jacket. Looks brand new, though. Maybe it's self-published? Maybe. But no author misses a chance to put their name or at least a pseudonym on their work. And almost every volume in existence would show up online. Especially new volumes like this one. Wait a minute. This is just the same story over and over again. Where did you get this?
I'm not sure, actually. I was putting a book back on the shelves when I heard someone drop it on the cart. I didn't see them, mind you. A student playing a prank, maybe? That'd be a pretty expensive and elaborate prank. I'd have at least faked the DDC label. Do you have any friends who would want to pull something like this on you? Not really. It was probably just left here and someone put it on my cart without realizing it's not a library book.
Certainly didn't appear out of thin air. That doesn't explain the repeating text, though. Let me see. Yeah, you're right. There are multiple chapters, but they're all unnumbered and all begin... And end the same way. Weird. Must be a misprint. You have a lot of work to do. I can take care of the book. That's okay. I want to read part of this and see if it really does repeat. Maybe it's some kind of experimental novel? What, like House of Leaves? Sure. Yeah. I'll see you later. See ya.
Oh boy, I feel a little lightheaded. What? Who's there? Okay, okay. Here we go. Most wizards do not like change. They are creatures of habit. Their customs born from years of isolation and sacrifice it takes to master the art. Most wizards spend their entire lives alone with their thoughts in a vast but lonely mind fortress built from stones of ancient knowledge. But most wizards are also dead. The legacy of their work forgotten by history. Tiegatain is not like most wizards.
In truth, most find it difficult to believe Zee even is a wizard. Zee wears no robes and bears no staves. Zee casts few flames and brews no potions. Z barely even uses the art at all, in spite of their upbringing and their people, the... Still, the Sixth Cult War is fresh in their mind, and they retain the knowledge that comes with their position and vast talent. Though, Z utilizes it for something more than mastery of the occult. Z uses it to make money. And Z is damned good at it.
With no equals on this side of the continent, Zee spends each day ensuring that remains the case. Zee's a predator, but even predators have rivals. And Tiaget knows that Richard Chappelle is one of them. He and his Chicago spirit, a gang of pitiful humans who think they can take Chicago and the New World all for themselves. Officially, T.A. Git would never admit that Z considers Chappelle anything but amusement.
Z has to maintain the appearance of being the apex predator, after all. Unafraid of anyone or anything. Chappelle is nothing but another parahuman to be laid low on Tiaget's road to increasing greatness. Deep down, Tiagat knows the Chicago spirit are a formidable and unbent enemy, even to their own people, who know more arts than their human languages.
So tonight, Z is meeting with the only other man Z considers a predator equal to Chappelle and himself. Percival Dark, the deathless merchant of London. Mr. Dark. Go right in, sir. Thank you. Ah. Muxain. Finally. Mr. Dark. May I ask what's so important that we need to meet in person? Ah, but Percy. Is it alright if I call you Percy? A journey across the ocean should be hard for a...
Big fish like you. No? Tiegat sits down across from Dark and finally succumbs, flashing him a wolfish grin. Z tries to see if Dark's calm eyes will give in to the provocation. They do not. Instead, Dark crosses his legs and slowly turns his head to look directly at Tiaget. It's business, then. Just like everything in life, Percy. Just like...
Everything. Get to the point, please. Of course. As we both know, we both have a keen interest in the operations of one Richard Chappelle. Though on different sides of the... I have no idea what you're talking about. Like I was saying, as we both know, he likes your money, Percy. You also like his money. It's good business, isn't it? Come in, give the man what he needs to get big and then take back what he owes you. He is happy. You are happy. Everyone is happy. You're so smart about it too.
Using trains made from iron to keep my guys away. Making bullets from ear lights. Brilliant! Genuinely brilliant. Couldn't have planned it better myself. It's clean, it's efficient, and at the end of the day, it enriches everyone. Even that old fool from the factory with the supply chain. Here's the issue though. I really, really do not like Chappelle's money. It's hard to drive his influence out of my territory when it's possible at all.
He's a pain in my ass. But I do like your money. I like your money very much, Mr. Stark. What are you trying to say, Muxain? I don't care for all this dancing around. I have work to do. Give it to me straight. What I'm trying to say is, we have time. A few centuries at least. Our magic makes sure of that. But Chappelle? Eh, he's a short fuse that will burn bright for a few years before fizzing out.
I give him a few decades at best if someone doesn't eliminate him before then. He doesn't have time to be patient. Right now, you're about to him. With your money in the factories... Paranormal items? Sure. You could maybe stuff me out. Maybe. But all the iron and iron light in the world will help Chappelle take me on in a stand-up fight. In a few decades, Chappelle will forget who put him on the throne. And when he does, he will either die like an old mortal dog...
Or take you out with the gear you gave him. There's little gain up there. Ditch that weasel and ally yourself with me. We can dominate the market and keep our vaults stuffed for centuries. Do you see what I'm getting at here? Yeah. I think I do. There are two facts that impede such an alliance. I'm bound by my word to Chapelle, and I'm bound by my signature to Rolander.
About that. I've heard news from certain friends on the continent that the leadership of Rollander's domain has changed Mr. Dark. Is that so? The foundation took over. They went right in and hung Roland her up by his balls. They control the factory now. They're fools if they think they can control the factory. They know nothing of the beast that lurks within. Rowlander was good at restraining it for profit. But this changes nothing. Sooner or later, the beast below will take over again.
When that happens, Chappelle and I will be waiting. Not if I take out Chappelle first. Without his trains and his occult weapons, Chappelle... Hell can't stand against the magic of my people. And we don't rely on a defunct outside contractor to supply us dark. It won't be that easy, Mugsine. Chappelle is a child desperate for power trying to sit at the table with adults.
I don't mean for this meeting to be an insult to Doug. I mean for it to be an opportunity offered to someone I consider my equal. Rectifying mistake. Stop supporting a child who grapples with forces he can't understand and invest your resources where they will be safe and profitable for centuries. With someone who has real talent. Enough to destroy this entire room with just a flicker of their hands. I think you'd be surprised to find out how ineffective that would be. But I digress.
I say your argument, I will consider it. I will consider it very carefully. Oh, and before you leave, Mr. Dark, if you choose to maintain the status quo... Please consider one last thing. It's worth losing a piece to win the game. Veils fall the second Dark leaves the room, and the outlines of Xer Inner Circle appear where they were once obscured by spell magic. Still, for just a moment, the five wait for Tiag and Ain's approval.
A word it's safe to officially join them in their office. Seeing their hesitation, Z nods, and they stepped forward, their attention focused on their boss. You think he bought it? Maybe. Maybe not. Only time will tell. Tiege pauses for a moment to consider, then turns to face the rest of their henchmen. He suspects your presence. Of that, I'm certain. Irrelevant. Dark knew he was coming into our lair when he agreed upon a meeting. What we gave him was mercy. You should be thankful.
Oh, don't be petty. He would go down without a fight. He expected danger before he stepped through those doors. He came prepared. Didn't you notice his eager light necklace? We can't afford to take unnecessary risks. Not with how many of our people we lost taking over the factory. Let's just be glad the negotiations went as well as they did.
That wasn't a negotiation. We told him how things were going to be. There were no other possible outcomes, not if he wanted to walk through those doors alive. So, what's our next step? The factory has fallen. That much is certain. Yes. Rolander is dead, and the Foundation's control was short-lived. Without Rolander's support, Dark will have little confidence that business will go as smoothly as before. And that won't be good enough.
Not for him. I give him two weeks to give in, at the very maximum. He might not like the fact he has to change sides, but he'll eventually come around. Until then, we lay low and wait for Chappelle's support to strike him. And then, my friends, we go for a kill. Chappelle will not last long enough for history to remember him.
Z grins, and the rest joins them. Even the fifth, still unspeaking, who's usually stoic. For a few seconds, they speak no words and exchange no gestures. They just stand there. eyeing each other in smug satisfaction, knowing that what was always meant to be theirs by right will finally come into their grasp. Hey everyone!
Pacific here with a quick ad break and a reminder. For just $5 a month, you can get early and ad-free access to all of our episodes by visiting our Patreon at patreon.com slash SCP. There's also a link to our Patreon in the show notes below. Up next, a quick message from our sponsors. Last Halloween, Art the Clown destroyed box office records and nauseated fans across the world. And now, he's coming for your living room.
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F as in flamethrower. M as in machete. To sign up for three months of Screambox for just $2.99 per month. This Valentine's Day, fall in love with Art the Clown all over again, only on Screambox. Alright, thanks so much for listening. And now, back to the show. There is something at the edge of their comprehension, ever so slightly irking at the strings of their soul. With their sixth sense, Z can feel pressure building up in their ears and heart.
A terrible sensation like Zay's never felt before. Z blinks once, and the feeling doubles, as if it's somehow come closer. Z can sense it now, almost as if Z was seeing it with their very own eyes. A wave of darkness approaching from the east towards them and their people. Its vastness bordering on incomprehensibility. A blatant violation of the laws of hospitality? Suddenly, Z knows what it is. Their heart rate triples. Z freezes in place, unable to move. Z can barely believe it.
But Z realizes that what Z is sensing is magic. A wave of terrible, awful, inhuman dark magic on a scale that Z has never seen before. It is not the work of dark. No mortal could ever unleash such a spell. It is vast. Its borders, if any, are out somewhere beyond the horizon. It sweeps across the earth, a mighty hand brushing his people from its surface like dust from a tabletop. Z wants to speak to their associates, to warn them, but it is far too late.
Z has three seconds at most, so Z dives into the deepest parts of their brain, those concerned with magic, the arcane sigils and wounds, and flings anything that might help them into the advancing maelstrom. It is not enough. Not nearly enough to shield them against what is coming. feels the wave crash through their shield. Its oppressive, incomprehensible mass breaking every bone and muscle. It rends their soul as it shreds their mind looking for their name.
With all of their might, they push back, using every part of their tiny arsenal against this impossible enemy. And Z succeeds, pushing away just enough for it not to take some hold. But its claws dig right through their being. There was darkness. When Z awakes again, it is in total blackness. A void so vast it is incomprehensible. It takes them a few seconds to realize that Z is dead.
Z tries to stand, but finds that Z no longer has legs. Or a body, for that matter. No! This is impossible! IMPOSSIBLE! Slowly... For the first time since Z was born, Z realizes Z has nothing. Zer body and mind, Zer empire, Zer business, Zer associates, and Zer power. All stripped from them. No, that isn't true. Z still has something left. Z still knows their name. T-I-I! Their name and soul are intact, and Z is stuck between life and death. A second realization dawns on them. The void is moving.
The spell that destroyed them and their people is drawing the last vestiges of Xerbeon down into a vortex of undoing. Here, Teaget finds some things they can use. Z redirects the flow of energy, wrapping the swirling ripples of non-existence around himself. Z spin faster and faster, the hypnotic movement at once terrifying and beautiful.
Z reaches for the scattered magic left all around them, the shimmering ambient energy left behind when the wave washed over them. Z fills the ugly wounds of their being with it. Tieget has no idea how they used to look, and the only emotions left are greed and fear, a desperate need to retain what little remains of themself. Z wraps the magic in the void around them until Z becomes a writhing, wind-blown thing of void-black tendrils and too many fingers. But their memory is fading.
There's a little magic left for one last art. Z claws the very last of Zare's stolen memories back from the void. condensing them into a form you will recognize, one that will draw them to and across time and space, and throws them out of the swirling maelstrom, out of the void, to land somewhere, sometime among the living. Perhaps to be found one day. The magic is gone now. Every last vestige molded into their new form or forced into the last spell that might save some fragment of their memory.
Z hates losing so much. But Z hasn't lost everything. Z holds onto it. Their name. It's hidden in them. buried deep inside this new form. This is all Z has left of Zerwan's mighty soul, now reformed into a spirit unraveling at its ends. Z fears nothing more than losing it. The only thing still zairs in the whole wide world. Z will bend heaven and earth to keep what little Z has left.
Zee disappears into the vast darkness around them, seeking a book containing the last remnants of Sare's shattered mind. Just one thought lingers. Keep us. That was... weird. I feel like I could hear the characters. And what's with this name? Tieget Ayan? Who said that? suspicion we're gonna end up on social media? It's... It's not a prank, Monty. These fucking kids, man.
No respect for the integrity of academic spaces. Mati, shut up and listen to me. This is not a prank. Fuck. I knew I shouldn't have let you keep that damn book. It's a wonder they were admitted to uni at all. Focus, Monty. The monster? Where did it come from? It... Well... It... It stepped out of the wall! It was covered in these... Jump like tentacles and it reached for me and... See? Not students. It's a monster and it's real. It's coming from the floor!
Never mind that. Get up. If it can make the doors and windows vanish, there's no telling what it can do. We need to move now. We need to find a way out of here. Maybe we can still use the emergency exits. This way. Dome too? It sealed everyone in. We can't escape. How? How is it doing this? It must either be a reality bender or a thaumaturge. My money is on thaumaturgy. What the hell is thaumaturgy?
Magic. I think it's a magic user. That would explain everyone getting knocked around when it changed the walls. It's just throwing its weight around without taking the usual precautions. I have no idea what you're talking about. Shit, it's coming. We need a way to hide from it. I've got an idea. This way. Walls. Hurry up. We don't have a lot of time. If you want to get out of this alive, you're going to have to trust me. There's no way out of here, Patty.
If it comes after us, we're trapped. Don't worry. I have a plan. Give me the book. Here. Let's try something. Saving our lives. If that creature is just hungry, it'll eat one of the other students and go away for a while. If it's after you or this weird book, then we can buy some time by hiding. If it's after the book, why don't we just give it up? Because the book is part of this. I need to secure it. I can hear you. I'm coming for you. Thanks for the warning, asshole. Get up here, Monty.
In the middle of the table? In a room with glass walls? You're crazy. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. You can't be serious. Now, Monty. Hurry up. It's coming back. Shimeme tu renegmas. Trust me. The magic circle should keep it from noticing us. Just stay absolutely quiet. Are you okay? Ow. Yeah, I'm okay. What is that slime? Hey, I got some on me too. It's sticky. It's gross. Like ectoplasm. What? Like...
Ghost? Goo? Yeah, fuck. My slacks are ruined. Nothing gets out of ectoplasm. Thanks, by the way. You really saved my ass there. Yeah, I'm not sure how. You're the one who's casting spells. Yeah, well, water and ice go together like fuel and fire. Since when are people able to throw lightning bolts and shoot cold air out of their fingers? Speaking of which, Patty, your hands! I'll be fine. I'm not really used to this kind of magic.
Since I didn't have time to prepare, I had to absorb some of the backlash myself. But... your fingers... I'm okay. We need to make it to my office. There's a first aid kit in there and some other things that can help us. Do you still have the book? Uh, yeah. It's over here. Give it to me. I'm putting it back on the table. What did you do with the... What were we talking about?
I put that thing we were just talking about inside the magic circle. It's an anti-memetic shroud that's supposed to prevent living minds from remembering that the things inside of it exist. Okay. What thing? Exactly. Here, look, I wrote a reminder on my arm. The anomalous book is hidden in a magic circle in group study room 5-010. So I don't forget. Weird. Let's go. We don't have a lot of time, and we need to call for help.
This week's episode is possible thanks to our patrons. Joining us this week was... Catherine Way. Christopher Maloney. Cheryl. Hunter Byford. Ezra Hero. Chelsea Diaz. Erica Bateson. Antoine Disillette. and Flizzard the Wizard. Thanks so much for your support, guys. We couldn't do what we do without you. SCP Archives was created by Pacific S. Obadiah and John Grills.
SCP-2521 was written by Lurk D. Creaking at the Seams was written by Ralston. Our script was by Kevin Whitlock. Our narrator was Dustin Parsons. Dr. Ross was Graham Rowett. D8931 was Marquise Moore. Patty Demers was Nicole Goodnight. Monty Chambers was Kayla Temeshev. was Vic Collins, and I'm pretty sure I butchered that name. D8934 was Jesse Hall. Secretary was Daisy McNamara. Percival Dark was Ben Counter.
First was Brandon P. Jenkins. Second was Anvar Mahmood. Third was Ashley Jones. And fourth was Scott Paladin. Our art was by Eduardo Baldez-Hebbia. Our dialogue editing was by Daisy McNamara. Our theme song and music was by Matt Roy Berger. Our sound designer was Chris Harris-Beachy. Our showrunner is Daisy McNamara. And I'm your creative director. Pacific S. Obadiah. Our executive producers are Tom Owen and Brad Misca, and this is a Bloody FM show. For more information, visit SCPArchives.com.
Thanks so much for listening to this week's episode of SCP Archives. We'll be back next week with part two of SCP-2521. In the meantime, you can stay connected by visiting our website or by finding us on Blue Sky, Instagram, or joining our Discord. Links to all of those social media platforms in the show notes below. Stay tuned, stay safe, and we'll see you next week.