Bruno stepped into the dimly lit bunkroom, exhaustion weighing on every limb. Another containment breach handled, another set of injuries endured—his muscles throbbed with fatigue. The room was empty; his squadmates were still deployed, likely assisting with casualties or conducting post-breach clean-up. For now, he had the silence to himself.
He moved without urgency, pacing a slow circuit around the room before halting beside his bed. Kneeling at the shared footlocker, he lifted the lid and reached into his designated section. His fingers brushed over a sparse collection of personal effects—a worn photograph from his early days in E-11, his laminated medical license, and at last, the object he sought: a journal.
Bound in weathered black leather, the journal showed its age. The cover was scuffed and flaking at the corners, revealing the original tanned hide beneath, like old scars beneath fresh skin. The spine creaked softly as he opened it. He retrieved a pen from the chest, secured the locker, and sat on the edge of his bed, journal resting in his lap.
He flipped past earlier entries. As always, the writing was careful—never compromising, never operationally specific. Only personal observations, mostly about people. The D-Class, in particular, filled page after page. His fixation with them had raised more than one eyebrow among Ethics personnel, but there was no policy violation in writing names and remembering the dead.
“D-2733. He fought bravely to protect his cohort during the breach. Paid for it with his life. I will remember him so that someone does.”
Similar entries followed. Each name, each sentence, a quiet memorial. Between them, scattered thoughts on colleagues and command:
“Consultant Esme Cree is adjusting my medication again. It won’t help. None of them do.”
“Director Jonny is always two steps ahead and yet the workload for him seems to grow evermore. I wonder if he’ll ever catch up, or if he will be burdened with a boulder that not even Sisyphus could begin to move."
“I failed the Director.”
“I do not recognize Jonny’s replacement.”
Each name recorded. Each relationship, however minor, preserved. It was the one habit he never broke.
Tonight, he began again.
“The breach was hell, as usual. So many died, including the D-Class. That damned Knight made it into D-block—two dozen dead before it left to terrorize somewhere else...”
The pen paused mid-sentence. A sharp pain bloomed behind his eyes, sudden and precise, like a nail driven through the socket. His breath hitched. He marked the page with the pen and shut the journal without finishing the entry.
His body trembled faintly as he stood, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Behind his eyelids, fragmented memories flickered—none familiar, none his. Flashes of moments he couldn’t place, people he didn’t know, and names he hadn’t written. Then nothing. Just silence, and a rising sense of absence, like something essential had been taken from him.
He was sweating by the time it passed. His breathing came fast and shallow. There was no name for what he felt—just a hollow space where something should have been.
Without fully realizing it, Bruno left the bunkroom. His steps were slow but deliberate as he made his way through the subdued corridors of Site-65’s medbay. The halls were quiet, punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of distant machines. Lights buzzed faintly overhead as he walked toward the rear of the wing.
He entered the psychological evaluation room—a place he knew well. The walls were plain, the terminal still powered on in standby mode. He sat down before it, withdrawing his CL3 card.
With practiced hands, he entered his credentials, the screen pulsing softly to life. Then, with a mechanical beep, he scanned his card to verify.
And waited.
Navigating through the directories with practiced ease, he opened the secure personnel archive. A few keystrokes later, his name appeared on-screen. He selected his file, and the system began populating the window with the chronicle of his time at the Foundation—line by line, year by year, each transfer, each reassignment, each flag.
Leopold began his Foundation career in General Security, where he demonstrated competence in D-Class handling procedures and risk mitigation during research testing. His adherence to the Code of Ethics (CoE) and Code of Conduct (CoC) was consistently noted in performance evaluations. Reports from this period indicate conflict with some research staff regarding ethical concerns, particularly surrounding treatment of D-Class personnel. Leopold maintained compliance with Foundation policy throughout.
Leopold's time in research was unremarkable, he performed a few experiments with great care in the purpose for each and great care for each of the D-class he utilized. Performance was acceptable.
After approximately one year in General Security, Leopold requested and was granted transfer to ISD, citing a desire to support internal enforcement of Foundation ethical and conduct codes. His work in ISD was effective; he participated in investigations and enforcement actions targeting personnel misconduct, insubordination, and potential breaches of security policy. During this assignment, anomalous behavior was observed. Incident reports detail fugue states, failure to wear standard-issue gear, wandering into containment sectors without mission directives, and reported auditory hallucinations. Leopold was subjected to a psychological evaluation and diagnosed with multiple psychiatric conditions. A treatment program was initiated, and progress was deemed sufficient to allow re-entry into active ISD duty after several weeks of observation and therapy.
Following this, Leopold attempted to advance within ISD by taking the Investigator Qualification Exam. Upon failing, he experienced a psychological breakdown and absented himself from duty without authorization. He was later located at the Site-65 cafeteria, voluntarily assuming culinary duties. During this period, he was recorded as experiencing a significantly worsened mental state. Psychological records indicate feelings of disassociation, loss of purpose, and generalized cognitive distress. Informal support from cafeteria staff provided temporary stability, and after approximately one month, he resumed limited duties with ISD.
Shortly thereafter, Leopold was reassigned to MTF E-11. Interest in this unit had been documented in prior psychological and supervisory notes, with repeated statements of intent to assist in containment operations and site defense. His operational performance met or exceeded expectations. He participated in multiple successful recontainment efforts and was promoted to the rank of Lance Corporal. Leopold declined further advancement, citing an unwillingness to assume administrative duties. During this period, continued psychological irregularities led to multiple voluntary visits to Medical. Subsequent evaluation by Senior Doctor Esme Cree led to a partial reassignment to the Medical Department during Leopold’s E-11 off-hours. The intent was to allow closer observation and minimize stress exposure during recovery.
While serving in this dual role, Leopold underwent routine blood screening and was noted for possessing O-negative blood. Due to its compatibility and applications in synthesis processes, he was colloquially nicknamed “Blood Bag” by E-11 personnel (notably operatives Civic and Chub). Leopold expressed no objection to the designation and wore it with pride always offering his blood for the E-11 both in combat and in vials for chemical synthesis.
Leopold transitioned into the role of combat medic during this period, a position that integrated his prior operational experience with Medical Department duties. Performance reports indicated improved psychological stability under this arrangement, attributed to continuous monitoring and accessible mental health support. His conduct attracted the attention of Medical command staff, who recommended his transfer to the specialized MTF Gamma-1, focused on tactical medical response and cross-department support.
Leopold accepted the reassignment and was formally detached from E-11 to assume full-time duty with Gamma-1. No significant psychological incidents have been reported since this transfer. He remains assigned to the Medical Department and Gamma-1, with continued medical supervision and treatment regimen in place as precautionary protocol.
The file confirmed everything he already knew—each assignment, each evaluation, each commendation and reprimand. It was accurate. It was complete. And yet, it wasn’t enough.
There were absences between the lines, subtle voids that no official record could account for. Moments that felt real but weren’t recorded. Emotions recalled without context. Names half-remembered. He stared at the screen long after finishing, hoping something would change, some entry would manifest to make sense of the dissonance. Nothing did.
With a quiet breath, Bruno logged out, the terminal’s glow dimming behind him as he retraced his path through the silent medbay. Returning to his bunk, he placed the journal back into the chest, shut the lid with care, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment.
Sleep didn’t come easily. He shifted, restless, turning over thoughts that refused to settle. Eventually, exhaustion won, and he closed his eyes—uneasy, unresolved, and still searching.
He moved without urgency, pacing a slow circuit around the room before halting beside his bed. Kneeling at the shared footlocker, he lifted the lid and reached into his designated section. His fingers brushed over a sparse collection of personal effects—a worn photograph from his early days in E-11, his laminated medical license, and at last, the object he sought: a journal.
Bound in weathered black leather, the journal showed its age. The cover was scuffed and flaking at the corners, revealing the original tanned hide beneath, like old scars beneath fresh skin. The spine creaked softly as he opened it. He retrieved a pen from the chest, secured the locker, and sat on the edge of his bed, journal resting in his lap.
He flipped past earlier entries. As always, the writing was careful—never compromising, never operationally specific. Only personal observations, mostly about people. The D-Class, in particular, filled page after page. His fixation with them had raised more than one eyebrow among Ethics personnel, but there was no policy violation in writing names and remembering the dead.
“D-2733. He fought bravely to protect his cohort during the breach. Paid for it with his life. I will remember him so that someone does.”
Similar entries followed. Each name, each sentence, a quiet memorial. Between them, scattered thoughts on colleagues and command:
“Consultant Esme Cree is adjusting my medication again. It won’t help. None of them do.”
“Director Jonny is always two steps ahead and yet the workload for him seems to grow evermore. I wonder if he’ll ever catch up, or if he will be burdened with a boulder that not even Sisyphus could begin to move."
“I failed the Director.”
“I do not recognize Jonny’s replacement.”
Each name recorded. Each relationship, however minor, preserved. It was the one habit he never broke.
Tonight, he began again.
“The breach was hell, as usual. So many died, including the D-Class. That damned Knight made it into D-block—two dozen dead before it left to terrorize somewhere else...”
The pen paused mid-sentence. A sharp pain bloomed behind his eyes, sudden and precise, like a nail driven through the socket. His breath hitched. He marked the page with the pen and shut the journal without finishing the entry.
His body trembled faintly as he stood, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Behind his eyelids, fragmented memories flickered—none familiar, none his. Flashes of moments he couldn’t place, people he didn’t know, and names he hadn’t written. Then nothing. Just silence, and a rising sense of absence, like something essential had been taken from him.
He was sweating by the time it passed. His breathing came fast and shallow. There was no name for what he felt—just a hollow space where something should have been.
Without fully realizing it, Bruno left the bunkroom. His steps were slow but deliberate as he made his way through the subdued corridors of Site-65’s medbay. The halls were quiet, punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of distant machines. Lights buzzed faintly overhead as he walked toward the rear of the wing.
He entered the psychological evaluation room—a place he knew well. The walls were plain, the terminal still powered on in standby mode. He sat down before it, withdrawing his CL3 card.
With practiced hands, he entered his credentials, the screen pulsing softly to life. Then, with a mechanical beep, he scanned his card to verify.
And waited.
WELCOME BRUNO_LEOPOLD
The terminal’s green glow cast an unnatural pallor across Bruno’s face, flickering faintly against the sterile walls of the evaluation room. The light buzzed softly, humming with the kind of clinical detachment that always made the room feel colder than it was.
Navigating through the directories with practiced ease, he opened the secure personnel archive. A few keystrokes later, his name appeared on-screen. He selected his file, and the system began populating the window with the chronicle of his time at the Foundation—line by line, year by year, each transfer, each reassignment, each flag.
SCP Foundation Personnel File - BL {REV-5}
Name: Bruno Leopold
Age: 23
Clearance Level: 3
Position: Combat Medic
Affiliated Site: Site-65
PROFILE LOAD....
...
FILE LOADED SUCCESSFULLY>>>
Name: Bruno Leopold
Age: 23
Clearance Level: 3
Position: Combat Medic
Affiliated Site: Site-65
PROFILE LOAD....
...
FILE LOADED SUCCESSFULLY>>>
Bruno Leopold has maintained continuous employment with the Foundation for five years, having been recruited at an unusually young age. His assignment history is atypical, with documented reassignments from General Security to Research, the Internal Security Department (ISD), MTF E-11 ("Nine-Tailed Fox"), and finally the Medical Department, with overlapping duties in some roles.Leopold began his Foundation career in General Security, where he demonstrated competence in D-Class handling procedures and risk mitigation during research testing. His adherence to the Code of Ethics (CoE) and Code of Conduct (CoC) was consistently noted in performance evaluations. Reports from this period indicate conflict with some research staff regarding ethical concerns, particularly surrounding treatment of D-Class personnel. Leopold maintained compliance with Foundation policy throughout.
Leopold's time in research was unremarkable, he performed a few experiments with great care in the purpose for each and great care for each of the D-class he utilized. Performance was acceptable.
After approximately one year in General Security, Leopold requested and was granted transfer to ISD, citing a desire to support internal enforcement of Foundation ethical and conduct codes. His work in ISD was effective; he participated in investigations and enforcement actions targeting personnel misconduct, insubordination, and potential breaches of security policy. During this assignment, anomalous behavior was observed. Incident reports detail fugue states, failure to wear standard-issue gear, wandering into containment sectors without mission directives, and reported auditory hallucinations. Leopold was subjected to a psychological evaluation and diagnosed with multiple psychiatric conditions. A treatment program was initiated, and progress was deemed sufficient to allow re-entry into active ISD duty after several weeks of observation and therapy.
Following this, Leopold attempted to advance within ISD by taking the Investigator Qualification Exam. Upon failing, he experienced a psychological breakdown and absented himself from duty without authorization. He was later located at the Site-65 cafeteria, voluntarily assuming culinary duties. During this period, he was recorded as experiencing a significantly worsened mental state. Psychological records indicate feelings of disassociation, loss of purpose, and generalized cognitive distress. Informal support from cafeteria staff provided temporary stability, and after approximately one month, he resumed limited duties with ISD.
Shortly thereafter, Leopold was reassigned to MTF E-11. Interest in this unit had been documented in prior psychological and supervisory notes, with repeated statements of intent to assist in containment operations and site defense. His operational performance met or exceeded expectations. He participated in multiple successful recontainment efforts and was promoted to the rank of Lance Corporal. Leopold declined further advancement, citing an unwillingness to assume administrative duties. During this period, continued psychological irregularities led to multiple voluntary visits to Medical. Subsequent evaluation by Senior Doctor Esme Cree led to a partial reassignment to the Medical Department during Leopold’s E-11 off-hours. The intent was to allow closer observation and minimize stress exposure during recovery.
While serving in this dual role, Leopold underwent routine blood screening and was noted for possessing O-negative blood. Due to its compatibility and applications in synthesis processes, he was colloquially nicknamed “Blood Bag” by E-11 personnel (notably operatives Civic and Chub). Leopold expressed no objection to the designation and wore it with pride always offering his blood for the E-11 both in combat and in vials for chemical synthesis.
Leopold transitioned into the role of combat medic during this period, a position that integrated his prior operational experience with Medical Department duties. Performance reports indicated improved psychological stability under this arrangement, attributed to continuous monitoring and accessible mental health support. His conduct attracted the attention of Medical command staff, who recommended his transfer to the specialized MTF Gamma-1, focused on tactical medical response and cross-department support.
Leopold accepted the reassignment and was formally detached from E-11 to assume full-time duty with Gamma-1. No significant psychological incidents have been reported since this transfer. He remains assigned to the Medical Department and Gamma-1, with continued medical supervision and treatment regimen in place as precautionary protocol.
The file confirmed everything he already knew—each assignment, each evaluation, each commendation and reprimand. It was accurate. It was complete. And yet, it wasn’t enough.
There were absences between the lines, subtle voids that no official record could account for. Moments that felt real but weren’t recorded. Emotions recalled without context. Names half-remembered. He stared at the screen long after finishing, hoping something would change, some entry would manifest to make sense of the dissonance. Nothing did.
With a quiet breath, Bruno logged out, the terminal’s glow dimming behind him as he retraced his path through the silent medbay. Returning to his bunk, he placed the journal back into the chest, shut the lid with care, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment.
Sleep didn’t come easily. He shifted, restless, turning over thoughts that refused to settle. Eventually, exhaustion won, and he closed his eyes—uneasy, unresolved, and still searching.
Somewhere else in Site-65
The screen displays its green glow as the words appeared on the screen:
Leopold was assigned to D-class service and remained under standard rotation until a containment breach involving SCP-008. During the incident, Leopold demonstrated exceptional survival and tactical behavior, not only evading infection by SCP-008-2 instances but also actively defending both fellow D-class and Foundation personnel. His actions directly resulted in the containment and preservation of multiple key assets.
Following the event, and by order of Site Command and Ethics Committee review, Leopold was administered Class-F amnestics. His prior identity, including legal name, was permanently erased. A new background and identity were issued under the designation "Bruno Leopold."
Leopold is not to be assigned to any position granting access to this file. Furthermore, under no circumstances is he to be exposed to any class mnestics due to the risk of memory resurfacing. Current psychological assessments support continued operational use; he is to be considered a critical Foundation asset.
For post-amnestic history and current operational role, see Bruno Leopold's Personnel File.
The screen flickered off and the day continued.
The screen displays its green glow as the words appeared on the screen:
WELCOME CHIEF_OVERSEER
YOUR LOGIN RECORD HAS BEEN WIPED
SCP Foundation Personnel File - BL {ORIGNAL COPY}
Name: Bruno Leopold
Age: 23
Clearance Level: 3
Position: Combat Medic
Affiliated Site: Site-65
Bruno Leopold is a former D-class subject. His original numerical designation has been expunged and marked as "unused" within the system. Prior to Foundation acquisition, Leopold was convicted at the age of 18 for the premeditated killing of three individuals during an organized retaliatory assault against a rival gang. The incident, marked by excessive violence and strategic execution, qualified him for death row under federal sentencing statutes.YOUR LOGIN RECORD HAS BEEN WIPED
SCP Foundation Personnel File - BL {ORIGNAL COPY}
Name: Bruno Leopold
Age: 23
Clearance Level: 3
Position: Combat Medic
Affiliated Site: Site-65
Leopold was assigned to D-class service and remained under standard rotation until a containment breach involving SCP-008. During the incident, Leopold demonstrated exceptional survival and tactical behavior, not only evading infection by SCP-008-2 instances but also actively defending both fellow D-class and Foundation personnel. His actions directly resulted in the containment and preservation of multiple key assets.
Following the event, and by order of Site Command and Ethics Committee review, Leopold was administered Class-F amnestics. His prior identity, including legal name, was permanently erased. A new background and identity were issued under the designation "Bruno Leopold."
Leopold is not to be assigned to any position granting access to this file. Furthermore, under no circumstances is he to be exposed to any class mnestics due to the risk of memory resurfacing. Current psychological assessments support continued operational use; he is to be considered a critical Foundation asset.
For post-amnestic history and current operational role, see Bruno Leopold's Personnel File.
The screen flickered off and the day continued.
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