You and your fellow D-Class subjects or artists are standing in a dimly lit submarine, surrounded by scientists and armed guards. The tension in the air is palpable as you await further instructions. Suddenly, the lead researcher steps forward, holding a manila folder in hand.

"Listen up," the researcher begins, his voice grave and serious. "We are about to conduct an experiment involving SCP-096. You have been selected as subjects for this test. Your cooperation is crucial for the success of this experiment."

He proceeds to explain the details of the experiment, outlining the procedures and the potential risks involved. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he describes the horrifying abilities of SCP-096.

"Your task," the researcher continues, "is simple. You will each be shown a series of photographs of SCP-096's face. Sketch SCP-096's face, and especially paint it so we can get a clear understanding of the face. We are just testing if paint could trigger SCP-096, and we know we already have a sketch of SCP-096. The sketch was an achievement, so we didn't bother to paint it."

You exchange nervous glances with your fellow D-Class subjects, realizing the gravity of the situation. One wrong move could mean certain death. With that, he distributes the photographs to each of you, and the experiment begins. Your heart races as you carefully examine each image.

As the tension mounts, you can't help but wonder what will happen if someone makes a mistake. Will SCP-096 be unleashed, its wrath unleashed upon you and your fellow subjects? Or will the containment procedures hold, keeping the creature at bay? You then don't care anyway and begin drawing a sketch of SCP-096's face with a couple of artists, but your fate might be sealed since SCP-096 have been triggered.