Goodday everyone and welcome back. The Wanderers  Library is a terrifying but amazing place,  

a great hub of some awesome stories and did you  know, it’s the official sister site of the SCP  

wiki. Today, two titans will go to head-to-head.  A thank you to the council and administrators,  

a quick word from this videos  sponsor and we’ll get started.

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Not long ago, a group of mundane mortals  mistakenly thought that they could categorize  

the concept of knowledge. That they could contain  the nexus of worlds, that the Foundation could  

lock up the platonic concept of a Library. It was a learning experience, at least.

On that day, a doctor pored over notes and maps,  looking out the window of the temporary base of  

operations that had been set up for the incursion. Not an invasion, not an assault. An incursion.  

That’s the phrasing the doctor preferred.  Ideally, it’ll be more or less a scouting  

mission, something to gauge the  relative scale of the Library.

Three groups, coming from three  separate points. Triangles were  

meaningful shapes, right? The researchers  weren’t sure if they were or not.  

They weren’t entirely sure of  any of this, as a matter of fact. 

Of course, only the very top of the command chain  knew that. Everyone else was told that there  

were measured risks involved. It wasn't  exactly a lie. Just stretching the truth. 

Everybody took their stations, three entrances  in three doorways in three small towns.  

Each in contact with the others,  each planned to the minute.

The Library was as it always is. I would say it  was a day like any other, if there were proper  

days in the Library. Or, at least, across the  entire Library. Sometimes night is necessary. 

The Library bustled as it always did.  Sweeping, grand shelves stretching for miles,  

stacked with the knowledge of eternity;  some towered higher than the sky,  

others were barely a foot stool’s height. Every so  often one might stumble across a small clearing,  

filled with couches or tables or whatever else  the Library’s visitors brought from elsewhere.

Speaking of which, at any given time  beings from across time and space were  

scattered across the stacks, each unique  but also not. An unfortunate alchemist,  

a skittish goblin, a peculiar cat, a soulless  shapeshifter, an actual alien, a literal deer,  

a blindfolded witch - so many different  lives meeting in the nexus of knowledge.

Throughout the Library stood  doors, each unique in itself,  

and each a literal door to innumerable  Ways. Each Way had its own knock,  

and each knock was unique in itself. Nothing  was repeated in the Library, except when it was. 

There was one corner of the Library, like most  others, a clearing with a few tables and desks  

whose origins spanned across hundreds of years.  This was one of many sitting spaces, and normally  

wouldn’t be of special note in the Library;  that is, until the moment a certain door opened. 

There was a hard, fast knock on a tall  wooden door set between two shelves.

It creaked a bit before a  heavy boot kicked it open,  

and three dozen black-clad  agents of Red team swarmed in,  

weapons raised. Seven hundred feet away, another  door burst open much the same way with Blue team’s  

entrance; and three hundred feet from that  one, another door with Green team’s entry. 

A single shot was fired, and  screams began to ring out.

A field commander shouted as the door slammed  shut. The doctor called over the intercom,  

demanding somebody retry the knock  - in a moment the door opened again,  

and it opened to a different expanse  of shelves. agents rushed in. 

Unfortunately, this was a different Way, and  this corner of the Library was restricted.  

An unfamiliar human voice began to  wail as the door slammed shut again.

In moments the Library was in chaos. The shot  was taken by a newer agent - nobody’s quite  

sure who exactly, it happened so quickly  - who got spooked and fired at… something.  

The moment the shot struck a shelf,  the Library exploded into motion.

There was a palpable shift in the  air as the Library came to life.  

The group huddled close together, tranquilizers  and proper shots flying in focused bursts. A small  

black cat vanished into thin air the moment she  was noticed, and a woman that looked almost like  

a schoolteacher dove behind a chesterfield;  a man in a long coat drew his own pistol  

before being gunned down by the agents, his body  falling limp but bloodless on the marble floors.

In the distance more screams rang out. Agents  shouted to one another, realizing the door behind  

them was gone. Someone authoritative called for  them to ‘find the others and regroup’ - and they  

started off into the maze of shelves. Then the Librarians came.

The agents were scattered, gunfire and  dozens upon dozens of voices screaming  

and calling out among the stacks. Occasionally  gunfire rang out, and was swiftly silenced. 

One of the Red navigators was in a panic,  desperately trying to reopen the shut door.  

Several other agents huddled close,  ready to lay down suppressing fire  

if anything else approached; he didn’t  care, he just needed the damned Way to open.

There was a click and it finally swung open; the  others looked back as he fell through into a hall  

of words, his voice perfectly silenced as old  grey light poured into the Library like fumes.  

After several moments, an unfamiliar arm  reached back out, closing the door behind him.

They repeated the knock over and over, each  time afterward opening to a different place.  

A nearly solid wall of flame, an impossibly cold  desert, an abandoned apartment covered in fungus;  

everything seemed lost. The doctor called his superiors.  

They would be unhappy but unsurprised.

Researchers at each entry point struggled to stay  on the same page, each wracking their brains,  

trying to figure out a way to salvage the  day. The doors refused to work properly,  

the agents were divided, the commanders were  silent, the phones were busy… it was a nightmare. 

Back in the project HQ, the doctor hung  up the phone, expression grim and sick.

Almost a lifetime away, an agent from Blue was  in a panic, crouched between a bookcase and  

a ratty old armchair. She peeked out to see  a tall, mouthless figure practically appear  

out of thin air among her colleagues. It swung a  heavy brass lantern with an eerie, silent grace,  

taking another agent’s head clean off; it  was unfazed by gunfire, silently neutralizing  

the threat posed to the Library, like a  white blood cell would neutralize a germ.

The cowering agent squeezed her eyes shut,  the sounds of carnage and gunfire ringing in  

her ears for a further eight seconds… before  suddenly stopping. Trembling, she opened her  

eyes - the Library before her was immaculate,  the MTF and everything else they brought gone.

Standing several feet before  her was the figure, mouthless,  

a lantern hanging from its hand. Or…  rather, the lantern hung from one arm. 

It silently stood before her, holding its  hand out. The agent took it and was gone.

The Door was shut tightly again. Agents  and researchers shouted amongst themselves,  

trying to figure out what happened. Minutes  passed before the Way burst open on its own,  

a small group of agents stumbling out.  They scrambled and shouted, confused,  

ragged, hurt; it seemed like  they had been gone for days.

Before anybody could react, one screamed,  

dragged back into the door before it slammed one  last time, the old, grimy handle falling off.

Elsewhere, Green team was completely fragmented.  

One splinter made the attempt to move  out and try to find the other Doors.  

It started with about twenty agents. Then  about sixteen. Eleven. Ten. Eight… Five. Three.

Then there was only one agent left. He began to  run, the stacks growing taller, the air growing  

heavier, the light dimmer. It began to feel almost  haunted, but not; it was the kind of feeling  

that you get when you know a place was once  beloved, but has been silent for far too long.

He turned a corner, finding himself among towering  shelves that stretched taller than anything,  

with books filled with forgotten stories. Lost, he saw a towering figure atop a shelf,  

a regal beast with a man’s face,  looking down with bored curiosity.  

The beast smiled when the agent laid eyes  upon it, eyes filled with thirst and delight.

The agent turned to run and ran headlong into a  tall, crowned creature with a smile carved into  

its face. He began to weep, collapsing against the  books, terrified and doomed. Somebody who couldn’t  

be recognized said words of comfort to the  lost agent, who realized he had made a mistake.

The other strange figures watched as a Librarian  climbed down, watching politely as the agent tried  

to gather himself. In a moment the crowned  thing scooped the agent up like a baby,  

and leaned up, handing him off to the Librarian.

A pair of agents ran, brothers chased by shapes  and movement they didn’t dare look at directly.  

They turned a corner, the first agent bowling  over a frightened child with iridescent eyes,  

the other jumping over; to where, they never  really considered. They just needed to escape.

They ran for a long time, longer  than they realized. Eventually  

they realized that the books were all gone…  and the world around them had changed. 

Light played above them, and they looked up to  see a vast thing, like a titanic pillar, a cage  

filled with innumerable lanterns planted atop its  head. Branches like antlers stretching with more  

lights stretched from the cage, twinkling like a  tree filled with stars. The living thing’s many  

arms reached throughout the hall, the scraping  of quills on paper filling the brothers' ears. 

It looked down at them, and they fled.

In the end, nobody knew what happened. Like in everything else, every single  

person who was part of the incursion had a  different story. Some seemed similar until one  

read into the subtleties, others had entirely  unique experiences that no one else shared.  

Most contradicted the others. Recordings of the day only helped muddy the waters  

further. Some showed chaotic images and sounds of  alien worlds, others involved people who had not  

even been on the trip. Or had even been born yet. Some of those involved had vivid recollections  

for the rest of their lives. Some remembered  nothing but entering and exiting the doors.  

It was like time skipped them over  when they went through the Way.

The most peculiar thing happened thirteen days  later. A group stumbled through Blue team’s door,  

dressed in the tatters of their equipment,  their hair greying and their bodies scarred  

and decrepit. They claimed to have been trapped in  the Library for decades, and only just were able  

to leave. They each told fantastic tales of their  own, of giants who stoked fires, of fantastic  

lost countries, of black dogs, of breathing  ideas, of things they had no words to describe.

Many still remain. Lost souls who broke the rules,  they must be punished for their transgressions.  

And they will, just as countless others have  been before them, and countless more will after. 

It is a learning experience.

And that concludes the Wanderer’s Library  vs the SCP Foundation. I hope you liked this  

video and be sure to like and subscribe if  you did. Thank you all for being so patient,  

I know this one took a while. Massive thanks  to all the patreons and members who keep the  

channel going, please consider joining them. And thank you to Ric trekson. GeneralsAlert.  

Wingsofameme. Bigmac. Nicholas. Number of  the Yeast. Wunderschnell. Spendy The Tire  

God. The lav. mstalenacaro. raz man. Kenn.  guardianofenergy. Luna Wilson. Dr Helarctos. 

Big thanks to the council members Ark Toast.  Klabarra. Capt Core. Hunterkiller. catclone. Tree.  

Lucas. Lil Sub. Monarch. Chicharron.  O5-Robot. DeepDarkPain. Yourlocalfisherman. 

And huge thanks to the administrators Viger.  Carmana. Romulus. Panzer. Sonic. GFHD.  

Manmana. Andre Bechert.