[PTF D-4 have divided into two groups. The first (LaFerrier, Harrington and Scholz) is attempting to access the elevator leading to the upper floors, while the second (Waters, Mortise, Farmer and D-004590) is exploring further down the corridor]

<Begin Log 1.1>

LaFerrier: I've found the elevators.

[Harrington and Scholz swim towards the elevator hub]

Scholz: You know, they always say to use the stairs in case of a fire, but they never mentioned what happens if the building is flooded.

Harrington: Electrics underwater, probably not a great idea…

Scholz: We've got to get up somehow. Report said it was mostly insulated, anyway.

[The trio swim into an already open elevator]

LaFerrier: Preference for a floor?

Scholz: My lucky number's four. Why don't we try that?

LaFerrier: Alright, good a reason as any. [Pause] Going up!

[LaFerrier presses the button for floor four on the console, but nothing happens. LaFerrier attempts pushing the button again, with the same result. LaFerrier holds on the "close doors" button. Nothing happens]

LaFerrier: Looks like the console's busted.

Scholz: Damn. Try another one?

Harrington: I don't see why we should. They're likely all busted.

[Harrington swims to the top of the elevator and opens the escape hatch]

Harrington: Woah.

LaFerrier: What is it?

[Harrington swims through the top of the hatch]

Harrington: You're going to want to look for yourself.

[LaFerrier and Scholz follow Harrington through the hatch. The inside of the elevator shaft is unlit, but the team's flashlights illuminate a tangle of thin plastic tubes extending upwards into the shaft, hindering visibility]

LaFerrier: Woah indeed…

Scholz: That explains why the elevators don't work anymore. Doesn't matter, we can swim it.

LaFerrier: Heh, doesn't look like any other choice. Still floor four?

Scholz: If we're not blocked. If we are, we'll shoot for the highest floor we can get to.

LaFerrier: Makes sense. Alright.

[The group begins to swim upwards, into the mass of tubes. Soon in, the tubes become dense enough that each member has to hold onto one another to avoid losing track. The team continue swimming upwards in silence for approximately three minutes]

Scholz: Do you feel, like, waves?

Harrington: Now you mention it, yes. Like something's moving around above us.

Scholz: Reckon we should…

LaFerrier: We're up this far, and I don't much fancy swimming back down. Let's at least see what's making the movements.

Scholz: It looks like… an empty space? Leslie, shine your flashlight up to that corner for a moment?

[The area above and to the side of the shaft is partially illuminated, revealing a large empty area, upwards of 25 metres in width. Scholz approaches and peers through; cameras observe a network of walkways, at the centre of which is a white sack (diameter ~14 metres) being rhythmically compressed by a complex series of mechanical appendages. Plastic tubes extend from the top of the sack and either enter the elevator shafts, which open against one wall of the area, or connect directly to the SCP-4029-1 instances operating the machinery. The area does not appear to have a floor, and the space below is unilluminated]

Harrington: Holy shit.

<End Log 1.1>

<Relevant Documents>

Document 4029-03:

Document 4029-03 appears to be a blueprint for the plastic air sack in the empty space in floors 4 and 5 of SCP-4029. At the bottom of the blueprint is the following note:

Are we sure this is going to work? And if it does, will it do what we want it to do? What do we want it to do? What's its function? Why am I making this? What's the point?

<End Relevant Documents>

<Begin Log 1.2>

[Agent Mortise's head-mounted camera shows a large, open room with an estimated 200 SCP-4029-1 instances. The room is largely unlit and so visuals are minimal, but each instance has a small electric light surgically implanted in its forehead. The SCP-4029-1 instances do not react to Mortise's presence]

Mortise: Commander? Farmer? D-, uh, D-Class?

Waters: What's up?

Mortise: There's a room here, filled with… people. Dash ones, I reckon.

Waters: Jackpot. Nice work, we'll make a Field Agent out of you yet. Farmer, you got the flares?

Farmer: Yep. Ready to go.

Waters: Alright, D, I want you to stand at the entrance there and get ready to investigate. We have no idea how they'll react.

[Pause]

Waters: D-004590?

D-004590: [Eye roll, thumbs up]

Waters: Good. Mortise stand back, and Farmer: get ready to throw that flare.

Farmer: Primed and ready, Commander.

Waters: Throw!

[The flare slowly arcs across the room and lands on the desk of one SCP-4029-1 instance, who reacts, jumping from their desk and swimming across the room towards the Agents. Others nearby turn their heads briefly, and one other moves to their feet, but they are otherwise unresponsive]

Farmer: We've got a runner. D, get ready to snap them.

[The entity (visually identified as Robert Taylor, an intern hired by █████ Industrial prior to the company's collapse and reported missing in 1929) makes it halfway across the room before stumbling. They begin to clutch at their throat, and the two individuals closest move from their seats to restrain them. After around two minutes, the first instance goes limp and floats in place. The others return to their work-stations]

Mortise: Jesus.

[The other SCP-4029-1 instances drop the restrained instance and return to their seats. No further activity is observed]

Waters: D, could you-

D-004590: [Dismissive hand-wave, thumbs up]

[D-004590 begins photographing and taking samples from the body , while Mortise and Waters investigate the rest of the room. Farmer remains by the entrance, logging details of the event]

[11 minutes pass without incident]

Mortise: Nothing especially weird over here. Corridor leading off, a couple aircon units pumping out more of this dark stuff.

Waters: Same here. What about you, Farmer?

Farmer: Still filling out the paperwork. Who knows when we might get another chance. [Pause] Well, fuck.

Waters: Language, please. This is still official. What's the problem?

Farmer: The corridor back there's gone. Some dash ones blocked it up, just saw them do it. Looks like we're caught in their maze.

Mortise: No. No, no way. This is a normal gig inside a freaky living office block, not some bloody extra-spatial nightmare-fuel-ass labyrinth.

Waters: Be that as it may-

Farmer: Buck up, kiddo. They've walled us in. It's their way or no way at all. Now quit your whining and act like a man.

[Pause]

D-004590: [Stands up, motions for others to follow]

Mortise: I guess anything's better than back there. What is it, mate?

D-004590: [Points upwards, mimes choking himself with his right hand]

Waters: Air ducts. Looks like the ceiling here's come away slightly. Good find.

[Waters motions for Farmer and Mortise to come closer]

Waters: Watch my back, I'm gonna swim up. I want to check if we can follow the ducts to whatever's supplying the air.

Mortise: You want to ditch both of our potential unexplored routes, neither of which show any chance of dark, enclosed, dangerous spaces, in favour of a crawl-space?

Waters: Pretty much.

Mortise: I don't-

Farmer: Commander? Problem. Insulation in the air ducts is… highly esoteric.

Waters: How so?

[Farmer unhooks their external microphone from their suit and holds it up into the vent. As it enters, recording is cut off abruptly]

Waters: Ah. Basically a Faraday cage. [Sniffs] Must be one hell of a weird electric field in here. Farmer, I've got the best flashlight, I'll go first.

Mortise: You're all insane.

Farmer: Undoubtedly, but it's worked so far. Alright, I'll follow you in.

[Waters, Mortise and Farmer enter the vent. D-004590 does not follow. The others do not notice]

<End Log 1.2>

<Relevant Documents>

Document 4029-04:

TO HOWARD,



What is this thing? […] could you have ever thought this was a good idea? We […] pay for this, feed this. We can't care for this. What were you thinking? I thought we were moving on. This building, this office, this street. We don't need another anchor. And the way it looks at me. Fuck, the way it looks at me. I really don't need this. We really don't need this. […] in Egypt. Don't try to stop me. By the time you're reading this, I'll have done it anyways.



This is your fucking fault, and don't you forget. […] won't be happy about this, either.



<End Relevant Documents>