Another year slid past like a whisper, and as always, every member of the Foundation held their breath when the system's familiar glow appeared in the air. The yearly summoning had become a ritual—equal parts dread and hope. Even after decades of immortality, I still felt my pulse quicken every time that light gathered, forming new text.
A new anomaly has manifested.Designation: SCP‑914.Alias: The Clockworks.
A slow grin pulled at my lips.
Now this… this was one of the most valuable SCPs ever created.
I didn't need the system to explain it. I already knew it by heart.
SCP‑914. A machine capable of refining, improving, degrading, altering—sometimes even outright transforming anything placed inside it. A tool so powerful it could rebuild technology, enhance weapons, purify materials, strengthen the human body, or destroy them entirely depending on the setting.
This wasn't just useful.
It was game‑changing.
Locating it was surprisingly easy. The Watcher's agents tracked it to a partially buried ruin on the outskirts of an old trade city. Medieval engineering could never have produced something like this—towering brass gears, intricate mechanisms, layered metal plates, and a design so impossibly complex it felt like reality warped just to accommodate it.
SCP‑914 was beautiful.
Monstrous.Ancient.Impossibly advanced.
The perfect combination for a Foundation artifact.
O5‑2 handled immediate containment. Teams cleared debris, sealed the perimeter, and erected anti‑tampering fields. Not that they could do much if the machine decided to activate itself—but ritual protocol mattered. Procedure mattered.
And above all:
Respect mattered.
SCP‑914 preferred to be treated correctly.
I oversaw the transport myself. It took three months and nearly every resource we had—alloy reinforcements, vibranium shock‑absorption plates, rune‑inscribed containment chains from Orochimaru, and dozens of security checkpoints. Even with our technology advancing rapidly, moving a multi‑ton, reality‑bending machine across continents without letting it activate was a nightmare.
But eventually…
It arrived at its new home.
Site‑24.
A site rebuilt from the ground up specifically for one anomaly.
Hallways wide enough for mobile cranes. Reinforced floors capable of holding hundreds of tons. Multi‑layered blast doors. A three‑stage security chamber surrounding the Clockworks.
Site‑24 wasn't just a containment facility.
It was a forge of miracles.
I personally walked into the central chamber when the final locks disengaged. Dr. Bright followed beside me, hands clasped behind his back. His amulet gleamed under the lights.
"This thing," he said reverently, "is the Holy Grail of engineering."
"I know," I replied. "Do not touch anything without authorization."
He nodded. "Of course. I like staying alive. Mostly."
SCP‑914 stood dormant in the center of the room, towering over us like a giant brass deity. Its gears were quiet—for now—but the air felt charged around it. Almost aware. Almost expectant.
Five settings.Five possible outcomes.
Rough – destructionCoarse – partial breakdown1:1 – equal exchangeFine – improvementVery Fine – unpredictable perfection
Each setting held limitless potential. And limitless danger.
We began our experiments immediately.
Experiment 1 – Telekill Alloy SampleSetting: Fine
The chunk of TK‑VX Alloy emerged 12% lighter, 30% denser, and with a psychic‑resonance absorption effect so strong that even standing near it made my mind feel oddly clearer. Orochimaru theorized it could be weaponized to nullify mind‑control abilities.
This alone would have justified SCP‑914's value.
But we were just getting started.
Experiment 2 – Vibranium FragmentSetting: 1:1
To no one's surprise, it refused to change.
Vibranium resisted the Clockworks entirely. A perfect exchange. Same material in, same material out.
A good data point.
Experiment 3 – Neuralyzer PrototypeSetting: Fine
The device came out sleeker, more efficient, with a doubled memory‑wipe range and a tenfold increase in precision. Bright nearly cried. The improvement meant fewer accidents, fewer exposures, and fewer potential breaches.
Another win.
Experiment 4 – Modern Rifle (Standard Foundation Model)Setting: Very Fine
This one was risky.
The gun that emerged had changed entirely. Sleek. Compact. Lighter. And capable of firing vibranium‑coated ammunition with perfect accuracy. Integrated recoil dampening. Heat dissipation. A trigger guard coded to the handler's DNA.
A masterpiece.
We stored it immediately.
Very Fine almost always came with a risk of anomalous side effects. But this?This one seemed… tame.
Lucky.
For now.
The system chat exploded with excitement as we uploaded the first wave of logs.
O5‑3: We are upgrading EVERYTHING.O5‑6: Do not put living subjects inside without full approval!O5‑7: …We're totally putting living subjects inside at some point, aren't we?O5‑2: Only if we have no other option.
We all knew that was a lie.
Someone would eventually test human enhancement.
Maybe not today.Maybe not tomorrow.
But eventually.
SCP‑914 was too valuable. Too tempting. Too powerful.
It was impossible to resist forever.
For now, our focus was equipment. Weapons. Armor. Containment tools. Telekill constructs. Medical supplies. And materials that would accelerate our technological progression by a century with every refinement cycle.
Site‑24 became the beating heart of the Foundation's future.
And I became its overseer.
I spent weeks writing protocols:Mandatory clearances.Safe usage parameters.Checklists for Major Refinement Events.Emergency shutdown procedures.Orochimaru contributed sealing scripts—chakra‑based stabilizers etched into the environment to prevent reality shifts from spilling out.
Even SCP‑079 was brought in—strictly air‑gapped—to analyze refinement patterns.
Every member of the Foundation felt it:
This was the turning point.
With the Clockworks, we could advance faster than any civilization in recorded history. Faster than any Marvel scientist. Faster than any deviancy group.
We could reach the future before the future reached us.
And we would need that edge.
Because the universe was getting ready.
We all knew it.
Each year, each summon, each anomaly brought us closer to the inevitable arrival of the SCPs that no one wanted.
Sooner or later, the God behind the system would send us something horrific.
Something unstoppable.
Something the Clockworks might help us survive.
But for now?
SCP‑914 was ours.
And we were going to use it to its absolute limit.