SCP-1281 looked just like the archive described.
At first glance, it resembled a futuristic column—almost like a sci-fi CD tower.
Its form wasn't some grotesque mass of writhing flesh and blood.
Instead, it shimmered with an alien, technological elegance.
> "Zzt—Dr. Lake!"
Technicians from Space Station 120-09 appeared on screen.
> "Has SCP-1281 reached communicative capability?" Leon Lake asked directly, standing before the camera.
> "Zzt—Yes! We're ready to begin the exchange with SCP-1281 now."
> "Good. Proceed."
The technician vanished. In his place appeared the anomaly that had drifted through space for 1.3 billion years.
Leon initiated the first contact from the containment chamber.
> "Zzt—Damaged."
That was SCP-1281's first processed response.
Everyone inside and outside the control room froze.
> Damaged?
Leon leaned in. "Can you hear me?"
> "Who…?"
> "We are the SCP Foundation. We are—"
Suddenly, SCP-1281's voice surged in volume:
> "What? Master. No—!"
> Master?
Leon frowned.
After a pause, he replied gently:
> "No. We're… we're humans."
SCP-1281's systems seemed to malfunction. It stammered, looping bizarre phrases:
> "Pioneers must… information! Pioneers must… must…"
Snap!
The technician cut the connection, turning to Leon in alarm.
> "Doctor! The dorsal region of SCP-1281 has risen to 60 Kelvin. It's heating rapidly—preparing for possible hostilities!"
The communication terminated.
The live audience exploded with confusion.
> "What just happened?!"
> "Wait… why did it call him 'Master'? And then 'Pioneer'?"
> "Could this thing have been sent by an ancient alien race?"
---
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Some agents were already whispering among themselves.
> "If you ask me, we should terminate any unknown origin anomaly."
> "What if it's transmitting memetic hazards?"
> "That's exactly what I'm saying…"
Nick Fury shook his head.
He'd seen enough Foundation procedures to recognize a pattern.
> First identify the anomaly.
Then contain it.
Then understand it.
Termination only came when there was clear, irreparable threat.
SCP-1281… still had answers.
And soon enough, the screen flickered again.
---
> "Doctor, four hours after cooling, SCP-1281 is active again. It's requesting contact."
> "Connect."
The anomaly returned to the screen.
> "Where are the pioneers?"
Its voice was anxious.
> Pioneer? If it referred to itself, then…
Leon hesitated.
> "You're currently in the outer solar system—outside the planetary ring."
> "Which planet?"
> "We call it Sol."
> "How long?"
Leon answered solemnly:
> "You've been adrift for… nearly six galactic revolutions of the Milky Way."
> "Are you the master?"
Leon paused.
> "...No."
> "Information! The pioneers must transmit… the mission! The pioneers must…"
Its voice cracked again.
> "Doctor, temperature is rising—now 70 Kelvin. Biological damage increasing."
Leon opened his mouth to respond—then his phone rang.
He glanced at the caller ID.
O5 Council.
The live audience froze.
> "Hello."
> "Dr. Lake," a female voice said calmly. "Regarding SCP-1281, answer all of its questions truthfully."
> "Reason?"
A short silence.
Then:
> "Because deception will complicate containment. The species that created SCP-1281 appears to have minimal aggression potential."
> "Understood."
Leon ended the call, crisp and cold.
---
S.H.I.E.L.D.
> "So SCP-1281 was made by a long-lost civilization…" Natasha muttered.
> "And it's just… doing its job," Fury added.
---
Curiosity now consumed every corner of the Marvel world.
> What did the Pioneer come to deliver?
> Who was its Master?
---
> "Doctor, temperature stable after seven hours. SCP-1281 requesting third contact."
> "Proceed."
The anomaly returned.
> "I… I'm not home. I've been gone for a long time. Where is home? I can't see it."
There was sadness—confusion.
Leon answered gently:
> "I'm afraid we don't know. The stars have changed too much."
After all… it had been 1.3 billion years.
> "I was told to fulfill my mission. But I'm broken. I've waited—waited for instructions. Waited for rescue. Are you the rescue?"
Leon didn't answer. Instead:
> "What is your mission?"
A pause.
> "What? Are you… a stranger?"
Leon nodded.
> "Yes. We are human."
A loud clatter echoed from somewhere. A woman offscreen cursed.
> "My mission… You are not the master. But I must… transmit. Must…"
> "Doctor, temperature now 85 Kelvin. Tissue deterioration confirmed."
Leon sighed.
> "Put it on standby."
He seemed agitated. Even he didn't understand the emotion bubbling inside him.
> "Pioneer…"
> "Master…"
> "What was your mission?"
---
> "Doctor, ten hours later. SCP-1281 is initiating contact again!"
The transmission began—this time without prompting.
> "This is our forerunner. It brings good news."
Leon didn't even have a chance to respond.
> "By the time it reaches you… we will be dead.
Our planet is dying.
We had no time to save ourselves.
But we prepared.
We sent this."
Everyone froze.
---
S.H.I.E.L.D.
> "Is this… their final message?" Natasha whispered.
Fury didn't answer. His jaw clenched.
On screen, SCP-1281 continued:
> "We saw signs—of those who came before us.
They were different. We did not understand.
But if someone came before… someone may come after."
> "That is the hope."
> "The Pioneer learned your language. Please listen."
---
A collective silence blanketed the world.
> "The Milky Way is dark… empty… cold.
It is spinning toward inevitable death.
You will die one day too.
But maybe… you have more time.
We hope so."
> "But one day, you too will vanish."
Its voice softened—ethereal.
> "Until then, light up the darkness.
Make the cosmos less empty.
Even a single voice saying 'I am here'
Is better than silence."
> "A voice is small. But it is the difference between zero and one.
Just as one is the beginning of infinity."
> "As time moves forward… pass the message.
Let the next voice rise against the void."
It felt like the whole universe was listening.
Like a candle in a sea of cold stars.
---
No one spoke in the livestream.
No memes. No commentary.
Just silence—and sorrow.
---
Fifteen minutes passed.
Then a soft voice again.
> "Is it finished?"
Leon blinked.
> "That… that was the message?"
> "Yes. Is it good news?"
Leon hesitated.
> "You… don't know?"
> "No. I only transmit. I don't know what the words mean."
Leon felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest.
He looked at the entity.
> "Yes. It's… very important."
> "Okay. Mission important. Got it. Feeling tired. Almost done."
There was relief in its tone.
Joy, even.
> "Mission complete. Brain overheating. Cooling impaired."
Leon's hands trembled.
> "Pioneer… you…"
> "Master?"
Its voice cracked—hopeful, uncertain.
Leon froze.
No one else could answer.
Only him.
He turned to the empty room.
Monitors. Silence.
Only the O5 Council behind the screens.
He exhaled.
Softly, he spoke:
> "I am."
> "Did I do well?"
The childlike innocence in its voice was gut-wrenching.
As though it had waited 1.3 billion years to hear those words.
Leon nodded.
> "Yes, Pioneer. You did well."
> "Then… I feel relieved."
---
> "Doctor… SCP-1281's systems have fully shut down."
Leon set down his pen.
He closed his eyes.
> "I understand."
In his notebook, the last words were scribbled without a title:
> [Watch.]
[In a forgotten corner of the universe...]
[A river burns with red candles.]
[Like paper boats… guiding the lost home.]
[It sees home.]
🛸EXTRA CHAPTER IS AVAILABLE IN PATREON 🗿
patreon.com/Lampil