ENTRY POINT
YELLOW WALLPAPER / MOIST CARPET / FLUORESCENT HUM
Infinite office space. No windows, no exits that make sense. Wet carpet sound is the first tell — then the hum changes pitch. Tutorial level: movement, camera, crouch. Foundation evidence: previous D-class gear, a cracked Scranton Reality Anchor still pulsing weakly.
The 90s trace here: a child's school bag, scuffed red. Polaroid attached. A girl, maybe 8. Her name is on the tag: TAMSIN. She disappeared from the ████ Mall in March 1994. Her bag should not be here. And yet.
CONCRETE MEGASTRUCTURE / DISTANT RUMBLING / FLICKERING SODIUM LIGHTS
Massive multi-level car park. Disorienting. Rumbling from somewhere below that never gets closer. A crashed Foundation containment transport on Level 3B — cargo bay doors ripped open from the inside. Whatever was inside has been here longer than D-XXXX.
Wire mechanic introduced: can be used to mark paths and trip entity patrols. First resource cache from a previous M.E.G. team — partial, looted.
INDUSTRIAL PIPES / EXTREME HEAT / STEAM / DARKNESS
Industrial infrastructure. Dangerous heat. Steam obscures vision. Most threatening: total darkness between pipes — entities here hunt by sound. Crawlspace claustrophobia. Camera battery drains 3x faster in the heat.
Foundation automated relay station found, half-melted. Still transmitting. What it's transmitting is not Foundation-standard protocol.
ENDLESS SUBURBAN NEIGHBOURHOOD / PITCH BLACK / THE FAMILIAR MADE WRONG
Infinite suburb. All houses identical. All lights off. The horror here is recognition — this looks like somewhere you know. The street layout is subtly wrong, the same block looping. Darkness is absolute except for D-XXXX's camera battery.
Autophobia peak: sounds of a family inside a house that is empty when you enter. TV glow in a window. Someone calling a name that is almost yours. The suburb is designed to make you feel you should belong here — and that you are utterly, fundamentally alone.
HUB LEVEL
ABANDONED INFINITE CITY / MONOLITHIC STRUCTURES / NON-EUCLIDEAN ARCHITECTURE
An infinite desolate cityscape. Monolithic skyscrapers extend beyond visible atmosphere. The architecture begins normal — modern urban — then degrades the further you travel into something wrong: buildings with no interiors, streets that end in walls, districts that have never existed on any map.
Megalophobia core level. Standing between two skyscrapers and looking up triggers the scale system — camera FOV narrows, heartbeat audible, D-XXXX whispers "don't look up." Then you hear something move between the buildings above you. Something city-block-sized.
M.E.G. base is here — the best-stocked safe zone in the game. Survivors with information. A trader. And a noticeboard of missing persons that the M.E.G. has been tracking — including some of the 1990s names from D-XXXX's prologue footage.
Visible only between buildings. Never fully seen — only legs, city-block-scale, moving between structures in the fog above. It does not react to the player. It does not need to. Its footsteps cause structural collapses. You cannot fight it. You can only not be where it steps.
FROM LVL 11
LEVEL 11 — SUBMERGED / WAIST-DEEP BLACK WATER / THINGS BELOW
A sub-level of the city where ground floors are flooded with dark water. You cannot see the bottom. You cannot see what moves in it. Splashing attracts entities. Silence is impossible.
Bridge between the city's megalophobia and the ocean's thalassophobia. This is the transition zone where the water entities first appear — smaller ones, scouts. Preview of Level 7.
REST POINT
PASTEL TILE / AQUAMARINE POOLS / ABSOLUTE STILLNESS / HIGH ALMOND WATER
Iconic Backrooms level. Soft light through ceiling tiles. Pool water warm and clean. Almond Water concentrated here — highest yield in the game. Dullers are pacified near water. SCP-054 encountered here properly — guides player toward Level 7 exit if approached calmly.
Safe zone mechanic: rest here fully restores stamina and partially stabilises sanity. But resting too long — more than one in-game hour — causes the lights to begin slowly failing. The pool water goes dark. Something enters from the Level 7 connection below.
FROM LVL 11
INFINITE DESERT / WRONG SKY / EM INTERFERENCE / SOMETHING ANCIENT WAITING
Accessed from Level 11 via a specific alley with sand underfoot. A vast desert at perpetual sunset — except the sun never moves, and the sky at night shows constellations that do not exist. Compasses spin. Electronics malfunction. The camera feed distorts into static with no warning.
SCP-2399 connection: The interference emanating from Jupiter bleeds through reality fractures and concentrates here. The desert hums at a frequency that vibrates the chest cavity. In the distance, half-buried in sand: structures of unknown origin, older than any civilization D-XXXX knows. The architecture matches SCP-4840 cross-reference documents found in the M.E.G. base on Level 11.
SCP-093 first encounter: Half-buried in a dune, warm to the touch despite the cold of night. A red resin disc. Picking it up is optional. Carrying it pulses like a second heartbeat. It will be needed in Level 94.
SCP-179: On the horizon, at the edge of perception — a tall female figure, pointing upward. She does not approach. She does not speak. But every time you make a decision that leads you closer to SCP-2399's influence, she is facing the wrong direction when you glance back.
The camera is completely useless in Level 440. SCP-2399's EM interference kills the feed. For the first time, D-XXXX has no light source except what exists in-world. This is the level where the player learns to navigate without their main tool.
INFINITE DARK OCEAN / PLATFORM ISLANDS / DEPTH INDICATOR / CONTINENTAL THINGS BELOW
An ocean with no shore and no sky — just grey above and black below. Platform islands. A depth indicator in the corner of the screen that shows how much nothing is beneath the player's feet. It never goes above 6,000 meters. It often goes lower.
The Foundation submersible ARGO-7 is beached on a platform. Crew of six. No bodies. Logs are inside — they found SCP-3000. The last entry is one word, different handwriting to all previous entries: remember.
SCP-3000 mechanic: If the player stares at the dark water for more than 30 continuous seconds, they lose audio from the most recent audio log they collected. It is gone permanently. SCP-3000 does not destroy memories. It dissolves them.
SCP-093 KEY
VICTORIAN ENDLESS HOTEL / GRAND BUT WRONG / SCP-093 MIRROR EVENT
A lavish Victorian hotel that extends in all directions. Wallpaper that almost matches Level 0 — if you look closely. Room 094-A is always locked. Something knocks from inside at exactly midnight (in-game clock). The Foundation's concierge desk holds old reports, partially burned.
SCP-093 event: A large mirror in the grand ballroom. If the player holds SCP-093 against it, the mirror becomes a portal into SCP-093's interior world — an alternate reality where civilisation was consumed by The Idea. This sub-dimension contains the deepest lore in the game: evidence that SCP-093's world had its own Backrooms, and that The Idea may have originated there. Optional exploration. Cannot be returned to.
SCP-914 is in the hotel's maintenance room. Risk/reward crafting: refine items from rough to fine — or lose them entirely on the wrong setting.
ONE TRIGGER
WARM LIBRARY / SELF-WRITING BOOKS / THE LAST PAGE IS BLANK
Accessible only once, from Level 94, by interacting with the concierge desk using a specific combination of found items. A warm, wood-panelled library. The books on the shelves are writing themselves. They describe D-XXXX's journey in real time — but they are slightly ahead of where the player is. Reading ahead is possible. It doesn't help. It only makes it worse.
The last page of every book about D-XXXX is blank. It stays blank. It watches you look at it.
PENULTIMATE
ONE STAIRWELL / INFINITE DESCENT / THE FACE / DOOR 087-B / CLIMB UP
A single concrete stairwell. No other rooms. The stairs descend forever. The lights on each landing work — then fail — then come back on one flight lower. At the bottom of every flight: a face. It retreats as you approach. It is always exactly one flight away. It has been there since before D-XXXX arrived.
Door marked 087-B — technically at the bottom, but the bottom doesn't exist. The door is found by going up. The player must climb against the building's gravity logic, ascending SCP-087's structure. The Face follows from below. One flashlight battery remaining.
SCP-3008
INFINITE RETAIL SPACE / DAY-NIGHT CYCLE / SHELTER BUILDING / EXIT DOOR (RANDOM)
SCP-3008 in full. The Endless IKEA. Day phase: explore, build, scavenge cafeteria food, locate survivors. Night phase: shelter up, lights on, Staff entities patrol aggressively. The exit door spawns randomly and relocates every in-game day.
The 90s victim's shelter is here. Furniture barricade, faded and repaired many times. A plant named by someone who needed to name something. The last log is on the shelf. Tamsin — the girl from Level 0 — made it this far. Her shelter is two sections from the cafeteria. She named the plant Bright.
| PHOBIA | GREEK TERM | PRIMARY LEVEL(S) | HOW IT'S IMPLEMENTED |
|---|---|---|---|
FEAR OF LARGE THINGS |
MEGALOPHOBIA |
Level 11, Level 7, Level 440 | City Giant between skyscrapers. SCP-169 as underwater landmass. SCP-3700's 32km entity. FOV narrows near large scale. D-XXXX says "don't look up." |
FEAR OF BEING ALONE |
AUTOPHOBIA / MONOPHOBIA |
Level 9, Level 0, Level MAX | Suburb sounds of families inside empty houses. Footsteps that aren't yours. A voice that almost has your name. One flashlight battery in SCP-087. |
FEAR OF DEEP WATER |
THALASSOPHOBIA |
Level 7, Level 11.11, Level 37 | Depth indicator at 6,000m+. Dark water with no visible bottom. Things that move below. SCP-2684's horizon dissolution. SCP-169 as submerged continent. |
FEAR OF DARKNESS |
NYCTOPHOBIA |
Level 2, Level 9, Level MAX | Battery-limited camera as primary light. Some entities only in dark. Some only in light. The hum changes pitch. Absolute silence = new worst thing. |
FEAR OF TIGHT SPACES |
CLAUSTROPHOBIA |
Level 2, Level 19, vent systems | Pipe crawlspaces, vent navigation, Level 2's industrial corridors. Walls that creak. Audio that compresses. Breathing that gets louder. |
FEAR OF INFINITY |
APEIROPHOBIA |
Level 0, Level 11, Level 3008 | Corridors that don't end. City that never terminates. IKEA that loops. Maps that can't be completed. The knowledge that there is no outside. |
FEAR OF COSMIC SCALE |
COSMICOPHOBIA |
Level 440, Level 11 (night), Level 7 | SCP-2399 on Jupiter. SCP-1548's star approaching. Wrong constellations. The Backrooms as a dimension — the realisation that Earth is small, the universe knows it, and some of it is hostile. |
FEAR OF ABANDONMENT |
ATHAZAGORAPHOBIA |
All levels | The wire was cut. The Foundation's last message was "keep moving." Nobody is coming. The 90s victims died alone. The last page is blank. |