Preface:A number of tests were performed to ascertain the exact effects of SCP-3330. Due to the extreme difficulty in performing the pieces, individuals were chosen based on prior experience in music theory and piano proficiency. Tests were performed in a sound-proofed containment chamber within Site-64T.

Experimentation Proposal 3330

Authorizing Director: Site-59 Director Grisham (Reviewing)
Head Researcher: Sr. Researcher James A. Harkness (Observing; Selected due to high ACRS⁶ rating)
Supporting Staff: Jr. Researcher Andrew Ling (Observing; Apprenticeship hours)
D-Class Requested: 15

APPROVED

Testing logs to be constructed in the following format:

SPECIFIC WORK:
SUBJECTS:
DURATION PLAYED:
TEST RESULTS:

NOTES:

#3330-A
SPECIFIC WORK:Atlas Eclipticalis
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class Personnel, former concert pianist
DURATION PLAYED: 0:05:12/3:15:00
TEST RESULTS: Within thirty seconds of synchronous play, area surrounding the D-Class began to dim, creating what appeared to be an inverted visual bloom. After about ninety seconds, the bloom faded into black smoke, concealing the performer.

At exactly two minutes, fifteen seconds into the test, the Hume rating of the surrounding containment area began to rise steadily at ~.2 Hm/min. No other changes to local reality were detected. Upon the cessation of the test, assumed to be due to error, the smoke rapidly dissipated and the subject collapsed in apparent seizure, pronounced dead ten minutes later.

Testing area updated to include four SRAs, one placed at each wall of the containment chamber.

NOTES:We probably shouldn't have used one of our best first. - Researcher Ling

#3330-B
SPECIFIC WORK:Atlas Eclipticalis
SUBJECTS: Two (2) D-Class Personnel, both proficient in piano, operating in tandem instead of a single two-handed performance.
DURATION PLAYED: 0:02:23/3:15:00
TEST RESULTS: No effect.

NOTES:I'm having major issues sourcing a single D-Class capable of performing this. - Researcher Ling

#3330-C
SPECIFIC WORK:Atlas Eclipticalis
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, moderately proficient in piano, two (2) D-Class, observing performance
DURATION PLAYED: 0:02:03/3:15:00
TEST RESULTS: Blooming effect began at the thirty second mark, followed by the rapid conversion to smoke at ninety seconds in. Test concluded via error. Upon cessation, all D-Class complained of moderate headache, performer experienced minor epistaxis. Expressed feelings of guilt and low self-esteem. Full recovery was seen within two days.

NOTES:Confirms the causal link between duration played and intensity of effects. - Researcher Ling

#3330-D
SPECIFIC WORK:Études Boreales
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, moderately proficient in piano, two (2) D-Class, observing performance
DURATION PLAYED: 0:01:05/0:18:45
TEST RESULTS: After three seconds of synchronous play, the D-Class immediately faced the performer. At the fifteen second mark, D-Class in observation showed displays of glossolalia, speaking in unison in an unknown tongue. Upon cessation, all involved showed signs of confusion and reduced brain function. Amnestics were supplied and full recovery was established within a week.

NOTES:Post editing analysis shows the vocalizations bear remarkable resemblance to those of theFifth Church. - Researcher Ling

#3330-E
SPECIFIC WORK:Études Boreales
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, proficient in piano, two (2) D-Class, observing performance
DURATION PLAYED: 0:14:11/0:18:45
TEST RESULTS: After three seconds of synchronous play, the D-Class again faced the performer. Fifteen seconds in, D-Class in observation showed marked glossolalia, speaking in unison. After the two minute mark, the Hume rating in the containment area began to rise at ~.4 Hm/min. The distance between SCP-3330 and the walls of the testing area began to increase substantially, this change going unnoticed by all involved aside from research staff. Analysis of data retrieved from the SRAs confirm the spatial distortion was in fact tangible and not merely a visual component, with the measured Hume increase reducing as expected over such distance to subsequently become negligible.

Vocalizations from observing subjects increased in intensity until the five minute mark, during which the D-Class returned to silence. Fifteen seconds after, the piano being used began to bleed from its seams, pooling onto the floor.⁷ The act goes unseen by the performer, who remained intensely focused on SCP-3330. Upon cessation, all D-Class involved lost abstract conceptualization of self, collapsing onto the floor and becoming unresponsive to most stimuli.

NOTES:When we brought them out, they kept repeating "So close". They haven't spoken since.

Also, was the effect responding to the SRAs? - Researcher Ling

#3330-F
SPECIFIC WORK:Études Boreales
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, proficient in piano, two (2) D-Class, observing performance
DURATION PLAYED: 0:18:45/0:18:45
TEST RESULTS: Chamber updated with additional Reality Anchors implemented above and below piano. Test proceeded identically as planned, aside from the dimensional distortion affecting all sides of testing area, including the floor. This did not impact the subjects, who remained in their starting positions, relative to SCP-3330.

As the performance continued, the piano bled heavily at the D-Class' feet, until the space beneath them was obscured completely. According to backup footage, Researcher Ling expressed awareness of a rising hum originating from the chamber beginning at around 0:18:15. Emergency evacuations to a remote viewing location were enacted as a precautionary measure.

Upon completion of the piece, the piano emitted a 145 dB screeching noise which caused all personnel in three times the audible range of the chamber to exsanguinate via otorrhagia. Hume ratings in the chamber began to fluctuate rapidly as a multi-armed humanoid figure emerged from the pool of red liquid. Hazardous fluctuations in the Hume field present within the audible range of the performance triggered surrounding Anchors' emergency failsafe, which responded with maximal power output, causing the entity to demanifest. Site-64T experiences a major power failure as a result.

NOTES:I can't remember how many limbs it had. No one can. There are eight cameras' worth of footage. We've watched them over and over. - Sr. Researcher Harkness

Boreales testing is halted indefinitely. - Site-59 Director Grisham

POST-ACTION INVESTIGATION RESULTS: Several small tests were carried out to determine the optimal configuration of SRAs around SCP-3330. Results indicate the effect expands outward with an ontokinetic field in the shape of a five-pointed star. Placing the SRAs in an equidistant pentagonal pattern has been shown to be most effective. Testing and containment area updated to reflect this.

#3330-G
SPECIFIC WORK:Études Australes
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, former concert pianist
DURATION PLAYED: 0:00:00/2:49:33
TEST RESULTS: D-Class expressed difficulty reading sheet music provided. A non-anomalous copy was provided and proved to be legible. It is unknown why this has occurred. D-Class has the same problem when viewing the other affected works. Evaluation of subject revealed previously undiagnosed bilateral open-angle glaucoma, though the relevance to test result remains speculative.

NOTES:And that's the last of our incarcerated concert pianists. - Sr. Researcher Harkness

#3330-H
SPECIFIC WORK:Études Australes
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, moderately proficient at piano, one (1) D-Class observing the performance.
DURATION PLAYED: 0:10:13/2:49:33
TEST RESULTS: After two seconds of synchronous play, observing D-Class faced the performer and remained motionless. During periods of silence throughout the performance, observing D-Class bled through most of their bodily orifices. No reaction was observed.

At the ten minute mark, a number of translucent humanoid figures wearing hooded robes materialized on the opposite end of the chamber, observing the performance as one began to draw an image on the floor using blood from the observing D-Class. Test aborted thirteen seconds later via error. Upon cessation, hooded figures physically assaulted the performer before dematerializing. Observing D-Class expired from exsanguination shortly thereafter. Image bore resemblance to apotropaic/evocation glyphs used by other Fifthist sects.

NOTES:Australes testing is now halted at this time. - Site-59 Director Grisham

#3330-I
SPECIFIC WORK:Freeman Études
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, moderately proficient in piano, two (2) D-Class observing the performance.
DURATION PLAYED: 0:5:01/2:47:15
TEST RESULTS: No changes were observed within the first thirty seconds of play. Soon after, a partially-incorporeal, multi-armed humanoid entity similar to that encountered duringBoreales testing materialized on the top of the piano. Entity was sitting in a meditative position and surrounded by a translucent energy field resembling a stellated dodecahedron. This manifestation, now referred to as SCP-3330-1, did not physically react other than to observe the affected audience and performer.

Despite this passive appearance and through some unknown mechanism, SCP-3330-1's observations ultimately led to the collapse and death of each individual aside from the performer, who was startled by the sudden commotion and ceased to play. Upon doing so, SCP-3330-1 was observed shuddering, reaching out to the performer and demanifesting with a blast of moderate force a moment later. D-Class pianist retrieved and transferred to medbay before being diagnosed with both radiation poisoning and hearing loss.

Contained Anchors were destroyed in the blast, necessitating replacement.

NOTES:Administration has told me we're trying this again, apparently something about these tests have produced a given quantity of reward. I don't see anything aside from millions in damaged infrastructure, so as a precautionary measure, I'm gonna go ahead and approve the implementation of additional SRA rings, along with UPS backups from IT, in case of a critical power failure. - Sr. Researcher Harkness

#3330-J
SPECIFIC WORK:Freeman Études
SUBJECTS: One (1) D-Class, moderately proficient in piano, one (1) D-Class observing the performance.
DURATION PLAYED: 0:11:23/2:47:15
TEST RESULTS: Test proceeded as previous. At the 10 minute mark, SCP-3330-1 stared into the one-way mirror, in the direction of testing staff. The entity then attempted communication with unseen personnel. SCP-3330-1 was docile and fully capable of telepathic speech. Therefore, the remainder of this performance is spent as an impromptu interview with Sr. Researcher Harkness, which he claims he can recall with decent accuracy (Presumed to be related to Harkness' high ACRS rating; see Interview Log 3330-1A).

As the performance progressed, SCP-3330-1 appeared to slowly gain tangibility. The SRAs within the testing area started to vibrate as if experiencing severe resistance. When the performer eventually failed to keep timing, the entity flinched as if in pain. SCP-3330-1 was then seen turning towards the performer, placing two of its hands on the subject's shoulder as it began to lose opacity. As it did so, the performer dissipated as well, who was seen bleeding from their facial orifices without apparent injury or pain. Both the entity and the performer vanished from the testing area in an explosion of considerable force.

Chamber possessed high levels of Gamma radiation which scattered and dispersed naturally. The first ring of Anchors were destroyed and again required replacement.

NOTES:Enough. I think we've got what we need here. - Site-59 Director Grisham

Preface:Cage's journal was recovered in his place of residence following his death in 1992. Despite some destruction and wear of the notes, many of the entries were still legible and have been transcribed below.

Another day, another moment of my life gone but for these damned compositions. I can't figure it out, at a precipice. I think I'm losing sight of my own interests in the music, the passion. The notes and the silences together in harmony. I reminisce to a point where I once avoided the egotistical nature of popular music, the repetition, the stagnancy. Not to mention a little horror of the void.

Still, my pieces seem to be drifting toward the main, that rhythm of ego, hackneyed and useless. I have no feeling for this harmony. I remember when Schönberg said that to make great compositions, you must have the harmony. He didn't think I had it in me. He said, 'You'll come to a wall you won't be able to get through.' So I said to him, 'I'll dedicate my life to beating my head against that wall.'

Yet, where am I now? Maybe I will succumb to that barrier and stay on this side, forever. I think must look for harmony elsewhere. Not the harmony of the ego. Something else. The harmony of nature, perhaps?

[The next thirty-four pages involve handwritten music notation, most of which have been crossed out or unfinished. The following page bears a sketch of a nautilus shell.]

I think I've got it. It's in the math. The mathematics of the universe, truly the greatest harmony. Intrinsic, ubiquitous language spoken in rhythms of equations and axioms. I will find my sound, and my comfort, among these numbers, like reveries, veins in the leaves around us. Branching off into infinity. Why must I meet so much resistance from my peers? I never understood man's fear of new ideas. Still, they'll see. I just need to find the material, that essence from which I can extract my sounds and silences and put them to patterns.

A man I knew from long ago spoke in passing to me, after I relented to him my burdens of finding sound in the patterns of nature. He mentioned something of hexagrams, which I know nothing of. Looked into it further—it's a six-pointed star. Not sure what that means. Maybe I will roll a die a hundred thousand times. The almost-randomness would be a comfort to me. Not as much as true randomness, should it exist; I'd prefer to remain in fluxus. Not everything needs a purpose. To have purpose in this universe would be—is arduous.

[Fourteen pages of music notation, some abandoned, some torn out or damaged from time. Several drawings of Platonic solids occupy the space in the corners of the pages.]

Thereis power in the numbers. It's hazy, but I'm getting there. It intrigues me. Surely something in the math, something in the shapes, perhaps? Those shapes… make up everything? These are the core tenets of the physical universe, yes? This most basic of structures. It has to be what makes up the infinite nature of everything. That true chaos, with beautiful, screaming quiet and random things that dot an ocean of endlessness. Novel, forever.

But—is this trulyit? Are the building blocks of the universe the most intrinsically chaotic harmony? Solids are solids, but nature is unpredictable, flowing, eroding. After all, what are we but just entropic forces? We will all slowly unwind into our own still randomness. Chaos. Beautiful, beautiful chaos. And then silence.

I think—I think I am just cracking my skull against that wall once more. It certainly feels like I am. Something is still missing.

I've composed a new piece,Music of Changes. I tried the randomness, and the math. What happens may come. I am saying nothing more on the subject. That is how poetry works.

Christian showed me theI Ching⁸ today, it is brilliant! Absolutely brilliant. How ignorant I was, for this book is filled with hexagrams as well, of a different variety. The numbers and the shapes. This is the language of sound, of Everything.

I asked a local woodworker, this nondescript man whose time spent molding trees into treens left his hands a mass of bloodied calluses, to craft me a keepsake from one of those shapes I was researching. His shop was modest, reeked of lacquer and something I couldn't put my finger on. Still, the tchotchkes and figurines that littered the shelves captivated me, even more so that the man simply nodded at my request and held up five fingers. No greater than five minutes later he dropped a wooden dodecahedron in my hand, roughly the size of a cherry, perfect for carrying in my pocket. The vertices and faces of the totem were sharp and straight, clearly the result of expert craftsmanship. It was warm to the touch, and even hours later I could swear it persists. In my palm, the shape feels right. Nearly perfect. Nearly.

[A number of other recursive sketches are seen in the next six pages, with very little focus on compositions themselves. A few failed attempts at highly detailed fractal patterns are present, some religious iconography and geometry, particularly Metatron's Cube⁹ is seen several times, drawn with varying accuracy.]

Silence is not acoustic. It is simply a change of mind.

But what lies between the gaps in the silence? Quieter silence? Does the quiet not have its own sound? Like white noise, things and spaces, filled in with smaller things and spaces, extending outward, forever. Yet never truly progressing. Going nowhere. Is that where I am going?Changes did nothing for me, in the end. I felt close.So close. But not close enough.

This aural experiment, this maddening labyrinth of passable cacophony. I feel more in tune with where I want to go, but I am too confused to know how to get there.

The backlash I've been receiving was expected. Unconventional does not imply a lack of talent. Still, it hurts a bit. My totem brings me comfort, though it does not bring me inspiration through shapes. It feels like something else. Like it isn't futile. Only sleep for now, worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

[EXTRANEOUS ENTRIES REMOVED]

An strange thing happened to me today. A man I have never met approached me on the street and commended my work. I'm not new to having fans—even if they are few and far between at the moment. This fellow seemed different, eclectic. Odd attire, but a comforting gaze. Green eyes. I don't remember his face.

He said something to the effect of 'Music should continue to evolve towards the composer's vision, not the audience's. Wouldn't you agree?' His tone was odd and unreadable, but the next phrase rang out with purpose.

'You have the power to create great things. Your music will beckon worlds.'

It isn't my purpose to be the best. I have no purpose. I like it that way. Yet, the words are etched into my memory. What did he mean by beckoning worlds? I only know of one.

I expressed my frustrations at the lack of new ideas, new experiments. He laughed and said that 'When all is lost, look to the stars'. I looked away for a second and he was gone, like leaves in the breeze. That's okay, they usually don't ask for autographs.

A side note—he had this pendant on his neck. I remember it quite well. It too was of a star, made of a glimmering green stone. Darker than the man's eyes, but a strangely enthralling piece in contrast to his blank stares. I would guess it to be jade, probably more valuable than my career itself.

His presence put me in a funk. My head has been cloudy. Once the clouds clear, maybe I will take a look at the night sky. Can't hurt, right?

[EXTRANEOUS/DAMAGED ENTRIES REMOVED]

It is in the stars. It has to be. I spent a month pondering, researching into constellations, on the brink, I began to notice the connections. I am ecstatic. My excitement was not diminished, despite my colleagues' inability to perceive patterns, hah!

I look at the night sky and all I see are infinite possibilities in infinite directions. As the world turns I see more and more. 'When all is lost, look to the stars'. It reverberates within me. Between those points of light lie vast silence. Points, like notes on a canvas, painted by an artist using light and dark alone.

I'll take a map of the night sky, derive notes from the placement of these stars. That'll do it. An atlas of the sky will lead me home.

[The next four pages involve attempts at matching star systems with notes. Many are scratched out, but the last two pages have legible sheet notation.]

I've done it. I've cracked the code, so to speak. The stars speak to me in a way I cannot form into words, and my notation flows without effort. I know what to write, when to write it. I hear the notes in my head, I don't even need to touch the piano. Everything has clicked into place.

I've barricaded myself in here aside from trips for food. I need to finish this. Thank you, atlas. I'll dedicate this composition to you.

[The next eighty-six pages involve odd notations and sketches of constellations.]

Atlas Eclipticalis is finished. I had dedicated parts of it to some friends, colleagues, and the stars themselves. Despite my efforts, my work was not well received,again and I haven't even heard back from ████ or ██████ ████████ with their usual unconstructive criticisms. I hope my oddities did not scare them off, hah!

oh, I ran into that strange fellow I had encountered last year on my way to the market. He applauded me on my work and said something or other that I didn't quite catch. I heard no words, but it probably had to do with purpose. I ignored it. My eyes kept being drawn to the glint of the stone on his neck. A perfect five points encased in deep, deep green. Staring at it made my head spin, so I thanked him and went on my way. Didn't see much of his face again, although I remember that his lips were wry for a moment, or two, before he left my presence. That bothered me. It wasn't what bothered me the most though.

Those five points still puncture my mind, their hooks or tendrils are wound deep within my psyche.

[EXTRANEOUS ENTRIES REMOVED]

████ is dead. They said he was found cold at his piano. Cardiac arrest, they think. At least he died where he loved most. He was a good man.

They said he had my notes on the stand. Poor fellow. Probably took one look at my debauchery and keeled over.

Well, I'm still at it, ████. Sorry, my late friend, my music must go on.

[The next thirty-three pages involve more of the same notation, as well as what appears to be constellations that coincide to no known systems in our observable universe.]

Years ago I said the notes of the stars flowed freely, like a river. I said I never had to touch the piano because I felt an almost symbiotic relationship with my muse. It doesn't feel that way anymore. The notes surge through my brain, faster than I can catch sometimes. They come in like orders. I'm tired. I'm trying. I'm sorry.

Freeman Études? Why on Earth would I name it that? Who is the free one here? What is your plan, for this, for me? No, I shouldn't ask questions. This purpose is bigger than me. Bigger than everyone.

And Ihate purpose.

[The next one hundred and twelve pages are comprised of complex notations and a series of cognitohazardous symbols. Exposure to these symbols causes extreme production of dopamine within the brain, as well as increased comprehension of astronomy and a profound fascination with the lifecycle of celestial objects. This effect dissipates over the course of a few hours unless subjects are exposed again.]

I don't know why I was so worried. The sky makes sense again. And you know my woodworking friend, the one that made me the dodecahedron? Turns out he was the fellow I met at the market. Or, rather, knew for years! I knew he seemed so familiar. He's become a quieter fellow than I remember, but I'm sure our kinship is still re-ignitable. There are only coincidences in this world, never fates, and that is good. Made it all the more special.

It was confirmed today when he dropped by and gave me another wooden shape. It almost caught my eye more than the jade, but it wasn't until he left that I could actually take a good look at it.

It's perfect. Similar to mine, but with these lovely points protruding from where the pentagonal faces of the former lay. I think he called it stelated[sic]? It doesn't matter. The shape filled the space in my palm my old totem created, and more. The points were sharper than I was expecting, and when my hand squeezed around the thing, I felt something… Strange. Strange but good. Confident. I like the pentagon, five is a good number. Five.

[Twenty pages of the notebook are torn or damaged to the point of illegibility]

Please. My fingers hurt. My hands are tired. My flllllrrrr

[Eighteen more pages have been removed haphazardly. Flecks of blood appear on what remains. Notations are indecipherable. The remaining entry is almost illegible.]

Boreales was more than just music. I can'tbeflrbelieve what a fool I've been.Thli The notes flow no more. My head is hollow. I thought I was making my own, but it was [indecipherable]. I was being fed. MyplrPURPOSE. All I did was take a bunch of random dots and connect them. But I wasn't using the map, I wasmki plr making the map. The mapS. The music made the roads. And now it knows how to get here. All that is left is the tlei obr fl rei plr tlei myr. And itss all my flaut.

Interview3330-1A

Interviewer: Sr. Researcher James A. Harkness
Interviewee: SCP-3330-1

---

[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

SCP-3330-1: I see you watching, but I can't touch you. Where am I?

Researcher Harkness: [out loud] What the-

SCP-3330-1: Be still. I'm in here. Not out there.

Researcher Harkness: [internal] How—Ah.

SCP-3330-1: Learn quickly. Very good. Like the last one, we wish to teach you more. Not like these, whose minds fail to bear the weight of the truth that lies before them. Wont you come closer and open your ears?

Researcher Harkness: [internal] Seems like a bad idea to me. Who are you?

SCP-3330-1: We are the least of your problems. Come, join us in the harmony, the melody of dying stars. Dance like maggots writhing on decay. Hear the songs of glorious rapture that The Purity sings as it approaches, for even a locked vault of a mind like yours would melt—will melt—in the presence of such beautiful chaos.

Researcher Harkness: [internal] The Purity? I don't understand.

SCP-3330-1: You will. That puppet that put our thoughts into sound, he drew a map of rotted out stars. Those pathetic, celestial ghosts lead usright back here. We've been following them, a river of blood that runs from the open wound that is your planet. We-

Researcher Harkness: [internal] What do you-

SCP-3330-1:Silence. Impatience. Control your thoughts. You wish to rush the performance? To seek the third act just as the exposition begins? The composer will acquiesce, in time.

SCP-3330-1: You stand at the center of something very,very significant. I am one of two that know why, and have purpose of arrival.

SCP-3330-1: The other is descending upon you withfive fingers outstretched, intent to pluck this world from its place and render it to less than nothing. It will start here and work its way outward, until all is in harmony.

SCP-3330-1: But I have my own plans. We are One but we are Five, and I want one thing.The box. I want to be the one gets to paint the sky, to be the real artist, while I can. I will make it as beautiful as possible, you will all prosper, until the other envoys arrive. And theyare coming, with the Fingers in tow. We will make our perfect canvas and present it to the Great One as an offering when it emerges. You'll see;⌇͏͝⌇⌇̵̛́͟͞⌇͏̢̛͢͞⌇̨́͡¹⁰ will take such pleasure in witnessing the glory of the Five remaking the cosmos, and then it shall touch the Center of Everything. We will watch it unravel, we will end it all, together.

SCP-3330-1: It will be magnificent. Where is the machine? Time is running out.

Researcher Harkness: [internal] I don't know. Why would we ever give this "box" to you?

SCP-3330-1: You barely know. I offer to ease your pain, to deliver you from worry, with what time you have. You sit here and mock my work, blaspheme it. Are you not perfect? Are you not in harmony? We are, and we know how painful perfection can be. Harmony was worse. But it passes before you have time to think, time to—understand. You hear it now, don't you? The Frequency approaches to show you true resonance. Then you too shall be One. Not long now.So give me the box-

Subject failed to keep synchronous play at this point and the interview was concluded. Sr. Researcher Harkness then syncopated and was admitted to the Site-59 medical bay, where he was monitored until able to return to his operations. Harkness complains of periodic auditory hallucinations which are reminiscent of SCP-3330. Some speculation suggests he may be hearing parts of the fifth composition.

Following this interview, interaction with SCP-3330 was suspended indefinitely. Access to the anomaly is restricted to those approved by the O5 Council for use in finishing SCP-3330.

Upgrade to Thaumiel classification approved.

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