After watching Dr. Marian Wheeler disappear down the hallway, Luo Shu hurried back to his dorm and spat out the W-Class mnestic booster he'd been holding under his tongue.
Just like with the Rainbow Lollipop, he wrapped it in tissue paper.
Ideally, he'd use vacuum-sealed packaging for these anomalous items—saliva and paper were a recipe for mold.
But as a D-class, he had no access to proper storage.
I need to find some desiccant packs or something.
After securing the booster and reactivating the lollipop's persuasion ability, he opened the Anomalous Item Catalog, anxious to see if it had recorded the W-Class pill.
His biggest worry?
That the Catalog wouldn't recognize Foundation-manufactured anomalies.
Like Y-909 amnestics (derived from SCP-3000's secretions), these lab-made items weren't assigned official SCP numbers.
But the Catalog surprised him.
Page 6 appeared.
[Page: 6]
[Item Name: W-Class Mnestic Booster]
[Object Class: Safe]
[Image: …]
[Description: A hexagonal green tablet produced by the Foundation to enhance memory retention and combat anti-memetic effects. Standard issue for Anti-Meme Division personnel. Requires dosing every 12 hours. Long-term use increases pancreatic cancer risk.]
[Special Containment Procedures: …]
[Ability: Memory Enhancement]
[Status: Contained]
[Interaction History: Click to Play]
[O]
Pancreatic cancer?!
But if he just activated the ability without ingesting it, he should be safe.
Still, compared to the Z-Class boosters—which overloaded the brain with perfect recall before killing the user via seizures—this was mild.
Now, with the W-Class booster's power, anti-memes wouldn't be a problem.
The Peanut Jailbreak Plan
Next, Luo Shu turned his attention to reactivating SCP-173's neck-snap ability.
The hostile gaze from earlier had been a wake-up call—he needed a way to defend himself.
Waiting for SCP-173 to naturally breach containment was too risky.
Even if it escaped, someone else might re-contain it first.
He needed to orchestrate a controlled breach—one where he could recapture it.
But how?
As a D-class, any suspicious activity could get him terminated.
The Foundation's stance on expendables was clear: D-class were meant to be executed.
So whatever he did had to be untraceable.
Before today, he'd have been stumped.
But after encountering SCP-055, he had an idea.
What if I make SCP-173's escape an anti-memetic event?
If no one could observe or remember it, no one would blame me.
His gaze settled on the "O" on SCP-055's page.
A bold theory formed.
Are SCP abilities controllable?
Probably.
The Rainbow Lollipop's persuasion could be directed or ignored.
SCP-173's neck-snap likely targeted specific victims, not random ones.
So if he used SCP-055's power with intent, would it really cause an XK-class scenario?
Unlikely.
The Catalog wasn't here to screw him over.
And as Wheeler said, SCP-055 was weak—just an information suppressor.
If he focused its effect, disaster could be avoided.
Operation: Forgotten Escape
He set the plan for after dinner.
In the cafeteria restroom—the only camera-free zone—he prepared.
Standing at a urinal, he stared at the "O" on Page 4.
Here goes nothing.
He clicked it.
The moment he turned, he froze.
A gaunt white man stood behind him, holding a fork like a shiv.
The bald guy's brother.
Luo Shu braced for an attack—but the man didn't move.
His eyes were blank, confused.
Even as Luo Shu circled him, he didn't react.
The man muttered to himself:
"Why am I here?"
"Why am I holding this?"
"What was I trying to do?"
Though Luo Shu stood right in his line of sight, the man didn't register him.
The hatred was gone.
The memory was gone.
Luo Shu grinned.
I see now.
I am the anti-meme.