Galen stepped up the stairs of the old decrepit house that sat at the end of a street on the edge of town and knocked on the old oak door. From inside the house he heard someone moving around and walking towards the door. The door opens and revealed a short old man in his mid-seventies.
"Yeah? What do ye want?"
"Are you Mr. Westley?"
"Yeah, what's it mean ta ya?"
"I was told you could help me if I was looking for something strange."
"Yer one o' them aren't ye?"
"One of who, sir?"
"Yer a MIB aren't ye?"
"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, I was sent here by the recommendation of Mr. Edward Mylo."
The old man sneered, "my nephew, means well, but ain't got the brightest bulb in the box." He sighed. "Come in."
Galen walked in after the man unlocked several locks on the door. As Galen walked in he noticed he stepped in something, he looked down. Salt, a line of salt had been drawn in front of the door. Galen frowned, a very paranoid old man then. Westley walked with a slight limp and gestured towards the living room. As Galen walked in he noticed more salt in lines in front of windows, that were now covered with newspapers and from the ceiling hung several bunches of herbs strung together. Sage. The room seemed reasonably normal, with a small writing desk with a lamp on it and several bookcases positioned around a dark brown couch.
Westley walked over to the lamp and turned it on. The old man turned to Galen and gestured to the couch. Galen sat and watched as the old man picked up a notebook overflowing with stick notes and bookmarks off his desk. "What do you want to know," Westley asked.
"Has anything strange happened around here lately?"
The old man laughed a strange sickly laugh that ended in coughing, "strange happenin's? Yer gonna have to be more specific son."
"SCP," Galen said remembering the amnesiacs he had in his pocket.
The old man just stopped and shuddered, "So that's where yer from. Here I was thinkin' there were no more o' ya."
"No more of us? And why would you think that?"
Westley walked over to one of the bookshelves and pulled down a large red book, "this is why." The old man handed him the book.
Galen opened the book and was surprised to see multiple SCP files, "where did you get this?"
Westley smiled sadly and layer a small card down in front of Galen, an O-Five keycard. Galen looked up at the man, "how did you—"
"I used to be just like you. Someone who dedicated their life to securing, containing, and protecting."
Westley picked up an old newspaper off his desk and handed it to Galen, the headline read: massive disasters strike government facilities! The newspaper said that multiple unnamed facilities were destroyed in massive technological and natural disasters. Galen looked up at Westley, "this is impossible, I was just at the facility!"
"Let me guess, you went through the house?"
"What? The house... it was an..."
"SCP. Very similar to SCP-2935."
"I'm sorry, but I don't have access to SCP-2935s file."
"Ah yes, my mistake."
"What happened to The Foundation?"
"SCP-738. A deal was struck, and the price was quote 'our purpose'. Every facility, every SCP, every man, woman, and child who'd done any work for The Foundation was killed."
"Then how did you survive?"
"I was on the other side of the house. I was the one who found it, imagine my surprise when I came back to find nothing and no one. The only thing left of the foundation was documents and the mainframe. Everything else was gone."
Galen sat thinking, he had to report this to the foundation. Then he thought of the escapees, "several SCPs broke containment in our world, we come here to find them, their in your world." Westley looked worried, "there's no foundation left here. No one to protect this world.