Agent Takahashi adjusted her glasses as she sat at her desk, skimming through the latest assignment file. Her office was sparse, the only personal touch being a small bonsai plant sitting by the window, casting a delicate shadow in the afternoon light.
The assignment in front of her was labeled "Priority Investigation - Potential Anomalous Item Dispersal." Takahashi flipped through the pages, her brow furrowing.
It seemed, according to the intel, that a group of young people in Tokyo had suddenly come into possession of an unusual amount of rare and valuable items. Jewelry featuring gemstones that didn't match known cuts, strange electronic devices, and even trinkets that didn't have clear origins.
Reports suggested they had been selling these items and claiming part of the proceeds were being donated to disaster relief. The Foundation had flagged it for investigation after noticing the sheer volume and unusual nature of the items being sold.
Takahashi sighed, leaning back in her chair. It could be nothing—maybe they were just lucky, or perhaps they stumbled across an estate sale or some hidden treasure. But this kind of thing didn't usually happen without something strange going on behind the scenes, especially considering how quickly they appeared on the public radar.
She tapped her pen on the desk, her mind already running through the next steps. The vending machine had been flagged in some surveillance footage—an older model, situated in an inconspicuous alleyway. It didn't fit in with the newer, brightly colored vending machines that lined Tokyo's streets. That, coupled with the types of items being sold, raised enough suspicion for a closer look.
Standing up, Takahashi grabbed her coat and checked her watch. It was time to begin the fieldwork. The key to cases like this was subtlety. She couldn't afford to let her presence alert anyone involved. Slipping the assignment file into her bag, she exited her office, her footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallways of the Foundation's Tokyo outpost.
The first stop was the neighborhood where the items were being sold—a mix of small electronics shops, pawn shops, and even a flea market. Each location had records of transactions that seemed legitimate, but there was always more beneath the surface. She decided to start at one of the high-end pawn shops where one of the young individuals, Hiro, had reportedly sold a bracelet and earrings.
The shop owner, an older man with a sharp gaze, looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness as she approached the counter. "Good afternoon," Takahashi said, giving him a polite nod. "I'm with a private insurance firm. We've been investigating the sale of some rare jewelry items, and I believe you might have recently acquired something of interest."
The man studied her for a moment before nodding. "I did have a young man come in not too long ago. Said he was raising money for charity—seemed like a good kid. Paid him a fair price for some quality pieces."
Takahashi offered a small smile, her eyes narrowing just slightly behind her glasses. "Would you mind if I took a look at those items? It would help us confirm if they match what we're looking for."
The shop owner hesitated but eventually nodded, retrieving the jewelry from the back. Takahashi examined the bracelet and earrings closely, noting the unusual pink diamonds. They were perfectly cut, but the style was unfamiliar, almost otherworldly. She resisted the urge to show any outward reaction, instead nodding thoughtfully as she handed the items back.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she said. "If anything else comes up, please don't hesitate to contact us." She handed him a card—a generic front, but one that would route any calls directly to a Foundation number.
Leaving the shop, Takahashi's mind was already racing. There was definitely something off about this. The young man had presented himself as someone raising money for disaster relief—a clever story, but it didn't match up with the origins of these items. There were too many questions, and none of the answers added up.
She decided her next step would be to observe the individuals directly. Surveillance was often the best way to gather unfiltered information. Takahashi headed towards the alleyway with the vending machine that had shown up in their preliminary surveillance footage. If the kids were getting these items from there, she needed to understand how.
Reaching the alleyway, Takahashi stayed back, her eyes narrowing as she observed the machine from a distance. It looked ordinary enough, though a bit older and worn compared to the bright, modern vending machines throughout the city. She took note of its dull black paint and lack of branding—definitely out of place.
For now, she'd watch. She had a feeling that the answers were about to present themselves, and patience was a virtue she had learned well during her years with the Foundation. If this vending machine was anomalous, it wouldn't be long before someone came along to use it again.
as to why she didn't just go up and test it herself, well, she could do that. But it was risky. The machine could easily have all kinds of side-effects if it was indeed an SCP object. So, instead, she just decided to keep an eye on it; some 24-hour surveillance should shed some light on things before she called the situation in.
Agent Takahashi set up her surveillance, positioning herself in a spot where she had a clear view of the vending machine but remained hidden in the shadows. She had a small camera discreetly attached to a utility pole across the alley, and she connected her laptop to the feed, monitoring it in real-time. She watched and waited, the minutes turning into hours as the machine hummed softly in the darkness, its dim glow casting a faint light on the cracked pavement below.
Just when she began to wonder if she would be here all night with no activity, she saw movement at the mouth of the alley. She adjusted her camera, zooming in slightly. It was them—the three young people she'd been following in the reports: Hiro, Yuki, and Mika. They approached the vending machine cautiously, glancing around as if to make sure no one was watching.
Hiro was the first to insert a coin. Takahashi leaned forward slightly, watching as the machine whirred and dispensed an item into the tray. He retrieved it, holding up what looked like a glimmering bracelet, its surface catching the faint light. Hiro showed it to Yuki and Mika, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
They each took turns, inserting coins and retrieving items—jewelry, gadgets, even some clothing. The three of them worked in almost perfect unison, their excitement evident as they examined each item they received.
It was strange, Takahashi thought, how ordinary the process seemed for something that was clearly not normal. She carefully took notes, documenting each item they retrieved—bracelets, necklaces, scarves, even a set of wireless earbuds that Hiro seemed especially pleased with.
After about a dozen items, Takahashi noticed a change. The machine emitted a low beep, and its lights flickered slightly. The kids looked at each other, confused. Mika tried to put in another coin, but the machine refused to take it. It seemed to be empty, its internal workings coming to a halt.
The three of them exchanged glances, and after a few more unsuccessful attempts, they finally gave up. Hiro shrugged, stuffing the collected items into his bag. Mika looked disappointed, but Yuki seemed more thoughtful, her eyes lingering on the machine as they turned to leave.
Takahashi continued watching, curious. Was this the limit? Did it have some kind of daily cap? She made a note of the time—perhaps it only dispensed a set number of items per day. This observation would be crucial for her report.
The next morning, Takahashi returned to the alleyway, her camera still in place. To her surprise, the vending machine was once again humming, its lights steady and its buttons illuminated, as if it had been mysteriously restocked overnight. She hadn't seen anyone approach it since the kids had left—no delivery person, no maintenance worker, nothing.
The machine was operational, yet it had seemingly replenished itself without any external interference. Takahashi frowned, the unease in her chest growing. There was no denying it now—this was definitely anomalous. An SCP object, potentially dangerous, and these kids were using it like it was a simple toy or curiosity.
She picked up her phone and dialed a secure line, her eyes never leaving the machine. "This is Agent Takahashi. I have confirmed anomalous activity at the designated location. The vending machine seems to be an SCP object capable of generating random items daily. Requesting further instructions and possible containment team deployment."
The response was immediate—a calm, measured voice on the other end. "Acknowledged, Agent Takahashi. Maintain surveillance, and prepare for containment protocols. Reinforcements will be dispatched. Do not engage directly until backup has arrived."
Takahashi ended the call, her gaze fixed on the vending machine. The kids had no idea what they were dealing with, and neither did she—not fully. But soon, the Foundation would take over, and whatever mystery lay within this machine would be safely under lock and key.