What Goes on in Site-070




Office of Information Records and Security

What Goes on in Site-070

Lukas Tyutchev (March 17, 2023)


As an investigator of the Authority's Office of Information Records and Security, it is my duty to ensure the safety and integrity of our organization and its various sites. Acting on behalf of Dir. █████ of Site-██, I embarked on an unauthorized investigation into the operations of Site-070, fueled by suspicions that it posed a potential threat to surrounding Authority facilities. Little did I know that my journey would take a turn toward the inexplicable and disturbing.

Armed with forged documents, I entered Site-070 under the guise of a containment-division facility inspector. Initially, the atmosphere seemed typical for an Authority site, but as I explored the facility further, it was evident that something was amiss.

The Legend

Are you familiar with the legend of Site-070? Before Father Gavrilo ascended to office as the current GD-SCHL, and before the Monastery became the bastion of the Research Division, an enigmatic man took the seat of the Scholar. His pursuit of knowledge and progress shattered every boundary of morality. It comes as no surprise, then, that the most common name bestowed upon this nameless Scholar was "the Devil."

In 1966, the Scholar established Site-070 in the North Siberian Lowlands. Its primary objective was to research and reverse-engineer anomalies for utility. It was there that the Scholar's vision for the Authority became a reality, as Site-070 became a hub of scientific innovation and exploration. Never before had a site brought us closer to unraveling the mysteries of the anomalous world.


The Founders of Site-070 (1966)

Despite what Site-070 has brought to the world, the facility was universally despised. No other site in the history of the Authority has depleted as many CSD personnel within a few short years of its existence. At its peak, as many as 2,300 CSDs were killed in test chambers in a single month.

Eventually, the Office of Ethics had to intervene and put an end to the Scholar's ceaseless experiments, and in 1969, the board deemed Site-070 to be too great a liability to continue operation. CSD personnel were no longer assigned to the site, and all anomalies within the site were relocated to other facilities.

It was an end of an era. But the Scholar refused to let this site he put his soul into go to waste. Through a series of legislations, loopholes, and espionage, he managed to reform Site-070, allowing the research and engineering to continue.

As long as Site-070 remains untouched by a CSD-class personnel, the facility can persist. Thus, the Scholar's assistants began experimenting on themselves with the anomalies, heedless of the potential consequences they may face.

Everyone who becomes a part of Site-070 does so by choice, and to rectify that choice, they must sign a contract written by the very hand of the Devil himself.

The Investigation

I began my investigation with a junior Research staff, whom I will be referring to as "K", as my guide. On my journey, I noticed a conspicuous absence of any surveillance cameras. Instead, the walls were littered with eyes—drawings, cutout posters, and even cracks that resembled eyes. At first, I thought this was merely a prank staged by the senior staff members, or perhaps a strange cultural ritual the site partakes in. After all, it is not uncommon for such sites to embrace a culture steeped in enigmatic taboos and arcane rituals.

Out of curiosity, I asked K what happened with all the cameras. In response, he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, as if to suggest that the answer should have been self-evident, and each time I brought it up, he simply ignored me. From K's behavior around this topic and what I've managed to gather from surviving records of the Scholar's contract, I've concluded that the eyes take the role of the surveillance cameras somehow, and the surveillant behind them holds autonomy and authority over the research staff.

By this time, the eyes were following me with keen interest and many of Site-070's staff stared at me with suspicion wherever I went. K didn't seem to notice this, nor did he seem to suspect the possibility of me being a trespasser. He continued guiding me, smirking smugly whenever I stop to observe anything I find that was strange and out of the ordinary, or at least, as out of the ordinary an Authority site goes.

It happens so that I was captivated by some of the research personnel within the facility. I've never seen so many people inflicted with the anomalous, and shrugging it off. I saw a man whose skin has been overtaken by porcelain and whose shadow lurks in the dark, and another whose flesh was but crystals. I saw that in their face, they weren't suffering, in fact, they seem to revel in losing their humanity.

If it were anywhere else, the infected would've been killed on-site to protect others, but here, there's an unseen force that stops the contagious diseases from spreading to others. It was disconcerting to witness familiar faces, individuals I recognized from outside Site-070, transformed into something otherworldly upon entering the site. Their demeanor was markedly different, their actions alien to their normal selves. "The corruption of their flesh is inconsequential to that of the mind," K would tell me as we passed by them.

As I traversed the containment hallways, I heard screams echo through the doors. This was the containment hall, and in each and every door are an assembly of RPCs and anomalous fragments subjected to the whims and machinations of the researchers who dwelled within the walls. It was strange seeing so many dangerous objects placed so close to each other. I desperately wanted to see what was happening behind those walls, but with K behind me, such a venture was impossible.

K looked over at me, expecting me to record all of the inventory. Afraid that my facade might be exposed, I immediately went to record every phenomenon present in the site's current catalog. Admittedly, my willingness only made me seem more suspicious, and K began putting a closer eye on me wherever I went.

We moved on to the Authority Security Force office, or at least, a crude replica of it built by the Research Division. The security measures within the facility were in complete disarray, seemingly replaced by the research staff themselves.

Back then, Site-070 used to have a large number of ASF and MST personnel guarding the site. But ever since Father Gavrilo became the new Scholar in 1991, the Protection Division and Security Force have seemingly abandoned the site, instead building OL-sites surrounding Site-070 with arms locked at the center.

They weren't suppressing anomalies from escaping their containment unit, at least, not in a conventional sense; they were safeguarding the researchers from leaving. Henceforth, the mantle of on-site security was thrust upon the researchers. Tension between the researchers of Site-070 and its neighboring OL-sites has only increased since the budget allocation in 2021.

Making an inventory check of the so-called ASF armory was practically impossible, and I've given up pretending to know what I'm doing when I checked the hundredth handcrafted weapon that almost seems impractical. I recognized a few of them to be aberrations of anomalies reverse-engineered to be somewhat useful.

I saw a rifle that can transmute matter into another element, and a silver crown that commands singing fairy-things to wrap around their host and hold their blade out to anyone that dares touch her.

I wanted to record everything in the armory, to see what strange inventions the heart of Site-070 has created, but K pushed me to go on deeper into the center of the site.

The Heart of Site-070

At long last, I reached the innermost recesses of Site-070—the Research and Laboratories. It was within those walls that an overwhelming sense of dread gripped me as my eyes opened to the machination of innovation. Scientists, driven to madness, and bodies that bore the marks of grotesque experimentation. They've let their minds become a canvas of higher powers not meant for us to understand.

One can only fathom the sheer dedication and sacrifice that consumed their existence, as they toiled relentlessly to bring forth these abominable creations. How much of their own body did they sacrifice in the name of an uncaring Scholar's ideal of progress and innovation?

I stood there for hours and recorded everything, meticulously documenting the abominable acts unfolding before my eyes, and the unpublished documents tainted with blood that littered the floor. I felt that I was no longer myself. As horrified as I was, I can't help but see and record everything.

Gazing at me with open eyes, K's earnest smile widened, and he patted me on the back. He called me by my full name, my real name, and told me I was ready to become one of them, and gave me a handwritten paper—A contract written by the Scholar.

I was about to look for a pen to sign the contract when an unsettling intrusion appeared before me. Images of eyes materialized within the computer file I was using to record my observations. It was as if the malevolent gaze of the site itself had penetrated my very presence.

Overwhelmed by a chilling sense of dread, I felt an urgent need to retreat from the Site and ran to the nearby ASF OL-Site that's been keeping a close eye on my location. I was promptly arrested and confined by the Presidium for forgery and trespassing.

I was waiting for my termination, but my record of Site-070 apparently proved useful enough to be a good enough alibi for my bail, and I was faced with no charges whatsoever.

It seems as though not even the Authority knows what goes on in Site-070.

Lukas Tyutchev is an investigative reporter for the Office of Information Records and Security. He also reported for The Department of Communications from Turkmenistan in 2012. See more of Tyutchev's contributions here.

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