SCP-117 is a multitool that produces whatever tool a job requires, even when that tool should have no business fitting inside it. Unfortunately, using it draws minerals out of y…

SCP-117 is a multitool that produces whatever tool a job requires, even when that tool should have no business fitting inside it. Unfortunately, using it draws minerals out of your body. It normally looks like an ordinary pocket tool. When somebody faces a task, the appropriate implement appears regardless of what they intended to unfold. Once folded away, that special tool disappears from the selection until it's needed again. Tests produce everything from a hammer to a self-powered saw, a laser cutter, and a device that heals a broken bone. A perfectly good dinner fork produces no tools at all. The fork is a particularly interesting result. When does an object count as a problem? A person could have all sorts of plans for something that is working exactly as intended. They might want to modify it, dismantle it, or use it for a completely different purpose. An instrument that seems to understand what needs doing raises questions about whose definition of a successful result it is using. The cost of contact is a loss of iron, copper, calcium, and zinc, potentially causing serious harm or death. Gloves don't help, and the rate appears to vary with the tool. It's classified Safe, stored in its leather pouch, and kept behind a locked door. Researchers suspect some degree of sentience. Later notes halt biological testing, then resume it with mixed results; further cross-SCP testing remains uncertain. A useful object with an unpleasant cost creates a more believable temptation than an obviously malicious one. Imagine having a repair that would otherwise take days, then holding something that might finish it immediately. You wouldn't have to be especially reckless to start bargaining with yourself. Maybe one quick use. Maybe this particular job wouldn't take much. That is an easy chain of reasoning to imagine becoming a habit. I also wonder what responsibility would look like if the person receiving the benefit wasn't the person holding the tool. A miraculous result can sound very attractive from a safe distance. The conversation changes when somebody has to volunteer to pay for it with their health. There is plenty of room for a story about who gets asked, who gets protected, and how a workplace talks itself into calling an arrangement necessary. Then there is the knowledge problem. Having the correct implement doesn't automatically mean you understand what it does. If something unfamiliar unfolds in your hand, how would you tell whether it is appropriate before using it? You might be able to recognize a screwdriver immediately. A device that nobody has ever seen before would demand a very different level of trust. That makes it a good premise for a story about expertise. Is the experienced technician still the most useful person in the room? I'd say there would be plenty for them to do. Knowing when to stop, recognizing a bad assumption, and understanding the consequences of a repair matter even when selecting the equipment becomes easy. The interesting question is how long people would remain careful once it had helped them a few times. Repeated success can make a strange process feel routine very quickly. Eventually somebody might stop asking why a particular tool appeared, and simply assume that whatever it was about to do must be the right answer. https://t.co/PPsC7BKRgg