SCP-132 looks like something you'd put on your desk: a little glass tetrahedron with a desert scene inside. One researcher dropped theirs and got hit by the weather.

SCP-132 looks like something you'd put on your desk: a little glass tetrahedron with a desert scene inside. One researcher dropped theirs and got hit by the weather. The objects show patches of desert, complete with passing animals that don't react to observers. Some views join together. Turning or shaking the glass doesn't reliably affect the scene. Filing it leaves ordinary scratches. Melting a hole doesn't remove the view, and probing through it finds glass rather than accessible desert. Then one breaks during a sandstorm in the location it shows, and violent winds buffet the office. Afterward, moving specimens out of Containment Area 23 requires the director's approval. The file keeps widening the problem. An unexplained delivery brings thirty-seven more specimens to a researcher's home, using a Foundation front's return address without any record of dispatch. Eighteen appear to show Martian soil. The new pieces also connect previously separated views. Standard classification rules are reinstated. A year's observations of daylight cycles eventually provide rough coordinates for some viewing locations. That makes the earlier tests more interesting than a simple demonstration of a portal. Cutting an opening appeared to support the idea of an inaccessible image. Shattering a specimen produced a physical effect outside it. Those observations don't justify treating every kind of damage as equivalent. The unexplained delivery adds a different problem: someone has sent more of the collection directly to a researcher's home. A desk ornament has become both an unresolved experiment and an indication that the unexplained sender knows where to find a researcher. Based on SCP-132 by Robert Sandler, SCP Wiki. This adaptation is released under CC BY-SA 3.0: https://t.co/TI86Yhe2FC Original entry: https://t.co/g78OS9FHOV