I will stand strong in the face of God.
CRat26
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Word Count: 1,945. (est. 6 minutes)
Item#: 7192
Level2
Containment Class:
euclid
Secondary Class:
none
Disruption Class:
dark
Risk Class:
caution
Special Containment Procedures:
All travel to exoplanet FATS 05647-2342 is to be expressly forbidden by governing bodies. Any unauthorized individuals attempting travel to the planet should be turned away. Interactions with instances is to be kept to a minimum for the well-being of all involved parties.
SCP-7192-1 instances are not to be told of the nature of their existence under any circumstances.
A photo of FATS 05647-2342
Description:
SCP-7192 is a rudimentary civilization residing entirely on rogue planet FATS 05647-2342. Due to the complete lack of natural light, SCP-7192 is incapable of producing or collecting food, water, or any other materials necessary for typical biological function. Instead, SCP-7192-1 instances appear to have a diet consisting entirely of their own flesh, organs, skin, and blood.
SCP-7192-1 instances are large, bloated humanoid entities completely lacking in hair or fur. Aside from their slightly grey skin and elongated fingers, SCP-7192-1 instances resemble normal humans. It is assumed that the SCP-7192 population evolved similarly to the human species, and interviews with SCP-7192-1 instances have confirmed this to be accurate.
SCP-7192-1 instances continually grow additional biological matter on their bodies, effectively forcing them to continually tear, rip, and eat portions of themselves to prevent the growths from consuming them completely. Because of these growths, determining the original biology of SCP-7192-1 instances is effectively impossible.
Despite the nonsensical biological makeup of SCP-7192-1 instances, they still perform typical functions such as eating, drinking, and breathing. None of these actions appear to be necessary for their continued existence.
Due to the lack of heat generators present on the planet, the temperature remains stagnant at about 4 degrees kelvin. SCP-7192-1 instances appear to be completely unaffected by this. They have been generally shown to be resistant or immune to most forms of physical damage, largely due to their strong regenerative properties.
Notably, SCP-7192 seems to lack the ability to experience biological death. However, they have a similar state of being in which the growths on an SCP-7192-1 instance outpaces its ability or want to remove them. Instances in this state are unable to continually grow past a certain mass threshold, as their bodies become encased in a sphere of flesh, blood, bones, and viscera. It is believed these are the only SCP-7192-1 instances completely lacking in sapience or conscious thought.
Exploration Log 1A:
SCP-7192 was originally discovered after routine Foundation excursions onto unexplored planetary bodies discovered life on a planet lacking in the proper conditions to support it. The suspected anomalous origin was later confirmed when the entities exhibited biology impossible under current universal laws.
<BEGIN LOG>
Exp-823AZ: Just touched down on..uhhh.. hold on.
They look down to their PFID
Exp-823AZ: FATS… 05647-2342? I think that's right.
Exp-823AZ: Anyway, it doesn't seem like this planet could support any form of life. God, it's fucking cold; even with the suit.
Exp-823AZ: Dark, too.
Exp-823AZ shines their flashlight along the planets landscape, fixing on a point off in the distance.
Exp-823AZ: Looks like there's some kind of rubble.
They pull the camera off their chest and point it towards a crumbling wall. The wall is etched with a repeating pattern, likely artistic in nature.
Exp-823AZ: Might be something around here.
Portion cut for brevity.
Exp-823AZ: Hold on—look at this.
Exp-823AZ pans the camera down to show a large descending staircase. They proceed down the steps. A few minutes of silence follows.
Exp-823AZ: There's some kind of liquid here—almost stepped in it.
They reach into their satchel and pull out a chemical testing stick, putting the end into the substance. The screen flashes, lighting up the cavern behind them. It reads "CHEMICAL SIMILARITIES TO BLOOD—SPECIES INDETERMINATE. RESULTS CONCLUSIVE: NON-ACIDIC AND NON-INFECTIOUS. SAFE SUBSTANCE."
There's a momentary pause as the camera holds on the text.
Exp-823AZ begins to walk back up the stairs before suddenly stopping and turning around.
Exp-823AZ: Fuck it.
As they continue down the staircase, the blood continually rises until it reaches waist height at the bottom. The camera is now completely submerged in the blood.
Exp-823AZ: Jesus christ.
Tearing and chewing sounds can be heard from the camera, but no clear source can be determined. Exp-823AZ begins breathing rapidly.
After a moment, they slowly pull the camera up out of the blood and point it forward.
The feed shows a large, bloated humanoid creature chewing and ripping chunks out of its own arm. It bites off a large piece of the flesh and begins pulling it towards itself. Thin strands of flesh are seen stretching and snapping in half as the creature tilts its head upwards and consumes the portion whole. Blood begins to pour from the open wound, which the entity drinks in audible slurps. After regrowth cuts the flow of blood from the wound, it begins to use the hole in its arm to scoop up and drink the blood pooling around it.
Exp-823AZ vomits.
A bone begins to jut out from the entity's stomach, spilling out some sort of green bile in the process. The entity reaches down and yanks the bone out of place, causing a further outpour of blood and bile onto the ground. It proceeds to use the bone to rip out its own eye, eating it off the end before starting to bite off pieces of the bone. Its teeth begin to crack and fall out in the process, and it proceeds to swallow them whole along with the bone fragments.
Throughout this, the creature is heard loudly whimpering.
<END LOG>
After receiving the report and footage brought back by Exp-823AZ, the Foundation would complete a secondary research sweep of FATS 05647-2342 a on December 29th, 2234. This incursion would reveal the following details:
- A millennium-era civilization had previously resided on the planet.
- This civilization collapsed an indeterminate amount of time in the past, when the planet it resided on was flung out of orbit.
- The people of this civilization had retreated into the ground as sources of heat on the planet continued to dwindle.
- Somehow, the population had survived and morphed into SCP-7192.
- The SCP-7192 population was non-hostile.
Following the previous expeditions, researcher Hash was brought onto the project to interview an SCP-7192-1 instance.
Interview Log 1A:
Interviewed: SCP-7192-1 (interviewed through the use of a Universal Translation Device)
Interviewer: Dr. Hash
<BEGIN LOG>
Dr. Hash approaches the subject as it is chewing a chunk out of its leg. She places the UTD next to the instance and attempts contact.
Dr. Hash: Hello? Can you hear me?
The instance stops for a moment and looks up at the researcher before swallowing the chunk of meat in its mouth.
SCP-7192-1: H—hello?
Dr. Hash: Hi. I'm here on behalf—
SCP-7192-1: Who are you?
Dr. Hash: I'm here on…
Dr. Hash: I'm a member of an organization from another planetary body.
SCP-7192-1: I see…
SCP-7192-1: And that planet still remains?
Dr. Hash: …Yes?
SCP-7192-1 begins using its fingers to tear skin off its body. Dr. Hash does not react.
SCP-7192-1: Beautiful.
SCP-7192-1: My people once dreamed of seeing the stars.
SCP-7192-1: And now we are here.
It begins consuming the pile of skin.
Dr. Hash: You sound bitter?
SCP-7192-1: I am prideful.
SCP-7192-1: You are living proof we have done our beauty for the universe.
Dr. Hash: Sorry… Could you please elaborate?
SCP-7192-1: Our society had been building itself to the stars for centuries. I was young when I noticed them for the first time, and it drew me in. I remember being a child, reading of the starmen flinging themselves to see our moons and robots collecting the earth of our ancestor planets. I remember crying when my parents told me that I may never see the stars in my lifetime, that I must stay back, and take care of my sister, and work in a town I had already grown tired of.
Blood begins to drip from its nose
SCP-7192-1: I apologize. It still makes me emotional sometimes.
SCP-7192-1: But I will stand strong in the face of God.
A bone slowly penetrates through its left eye. It tightens a fist in its right hand.
Dr. Hash: God?
SCP-7192-1: One—one (it winces for a moment) day, only what feels like moments after I entered my adulthood, the world fell apart.
SCP-7192-1: A loud explosion suddenly rang the sky in a flash of beautiful illumination.
SCP-7192-1: After a few minutes, all the light in the world was gone.
SCP-7192-1: We were told to run underground, to hide in our caves and wait for the cold to consume us completely.
SCP-7192-1: But for whatever reason, someone had another idea.
The bone protruding from its eye begins to drip with blood and form into a fleshy mass of skin and viscera.
SCP-7192-1: They…
It stops for a moment.
SCP-7192-1: …Apologies.
SCP-7192-1: They told us to pray. To cry—to grind our hands and teeth into dust screaming out for someone to pull us back.
SCP-7192-1: At first we begged God to save us. Then we begged his enemies. Eventually, we begged anything that would listen.
SCP-7192-1: For 50 days and 50 nights, we prayed. We sat and we cried and our bodies slowly broke down as we shivered in the face of the endless night.
SCP-7192-1: Just as we had resigned our society to death, something answered.
SCP-7192-1: It was not news we wanted to hear.
SCP-7192-1: But we listened.
SCP-7192-1: It told us it could not save our planet. Our society would crumble, and our legacy would disappear with it.
An eye forms at the end of the mass. It blinks.
SCP-7192-1: But we could save everything else. Our suffering could fulfill the quota of pain in the universe, as long as we kept tearing.
SCP-7192-1: We choose an eternity of agony so you may never have to make that same decision.
SCP-7192-1: Some refused, some resisted, but the choice had already been made.
SCP-7192-1: And they had the choice made for them with it.
SCP-7192-1: But a lot of them didn't have the strength to do what had to be done.
The mass begins forming towards its arm before it grabs it and slowly snaps it off, squirming as it does so. SCP-7192-1 proceeds to rip the mass into smaller parts, consuming them.
Dr. Hash:…
Dr. Hash: How many of you are there?
SCP-7192-1: Billions.
<END LOG>
Foundation data collection has conclusively shown that there is no link between the actions of SCP-7192 and a removal or reduction in EOPBOC scenarios. Instead, it was definitively connected to the function of a Mass Energy Harnesser, a large energy processor used by the Argatraki civilization before their total societal collapse approximately 56 million years ago. Before this point, the mass suffering (along with the belief that came with it) was connected to and used to fuel a machine powering the devices used by the Thirty-Eternity Mining Companionship, the largest company and governing body within the Argatraki society. Currently, the machine is defunct, and the actions of SCP-7192 serve no continued purpose.