Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been two days now since the Hadal Blacksite was compromised due to a security breach, various experiments now roaming free in the secret facility built in the nearly unknown Let-Vand Zone. Urbanshade had been sending submarines full of inmates like yourself down into the depths since the 10^th, and not a single person of the thousands sent had successfully retrieved the crystal, or Z-2; no one had yet completed the task they were given.

It had been two days since the start of the breach, and the tension in the air was growing thicker with each subsequent failure. Everyone knew that the risk of death was high when they agreed to participate in this mission, but the looming threat of demise wasn’t great for anyone’s mental well-being.

The lack of survivors and successes didn’t stop the guards from performing their duties, though. They continued shoving the inmates who were starting to become less and less cooperative and/or excited about this potential opportunity for freedom into the submarines, even going so far as to shoot the ones who fought back. Honestly, at this point, you wonder if a death by the hand of another human being would be a mercy.

You had heard whispers of the monsters hiding below the surface, contained within the metal walls of the blacksite and the surrounding waters, now having been set free by another who remained unknown to most of the expendables. Soon, you will be in the same facility as them, and you will be attempting to bring back something no one else has been able to. 

There’s a lit cigarette nestled between your fingers as you take a drag, thinking about the past two days and wondering if all this suffering was truly worth it. Your knee bounces up and down in response, a telltale sign of anxiety as you try to calm your nerves. It was just yesterday when a fight broke out, too, resulting in the death of twenty-six prisoners and one guard. They had been trying to overthrow one of the ships they arrived to the island on, but unprotected flesh could do nothing against the onslaught of gunfire.

You were thankfully far from the event when it happened, but you heard the screaming, the gunshots, and the thick scent of iron mixed into the air. You can’t help but sigh at the memory, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to alleviate the growing headache at the back of your skull. The cigarette in your grip bends slightly when your fingers press together, tightening, a hopeless feeling bubbling up your throat; it tastes bitter on your tongue.  

You had been an inmate of ███████, a high-security prison, for the past few years, living out your life-long sentence in relative peace. You were a somewhat liked inmate, never causing any problems and always being on your best behavior. You glance around at the thousands of prisoners, some of the faces being familiar, but there weren’t many of those left… at least not anymore.

Urbanshade had gone to a wide array of prisons across a variety of countries to round up as many draftees as possible for this mission, all with the end prize of, if you succeeded, freedom – the opportunity of a new life, the possibility of a second chance. A chance to be pardoned of all crimes, a chance of being given a clean slate. Others were here for the cash reward, too, but you couldn't care less about that.

Your mind subconsciously travels back in time, remembering the crime you committed – the whole reason you found yourself in this position as you sit off to the side, watching some other prisoners argue with the guards; you hoped that another bloodbath wouldn't occur so shortly after the last one. It didn’t matter what you did or didn’t do anymore – no one cared if the sentence you received was fair, so why should you?

Your eyes fall to look at your boot-clad feet, your laces tied up as tightly as possible, the navy blue of your pants tucked snugly inside. You looked like a soldier, though you were lacking any protective armor besides the kneepads strapped to your legs. 

The jumpsuit was warm, able to keep out the cold of the Norwegian Sea’s winds and weather, but the fabric was rough against your skin. It was waterproof, though, so you couldn't complain too much. That was indeed something you were grateful for, considering this mission took place underwater. Despite Urbanshade not caring for the health of you and your fellow inmates, just a bunch of expendables in the eyes of the company, at least they didn’t want everyone croaking before they could truly start their mission.

On your back rested the diving gear given to you about a half-hour ago, a piece of equipment made to help you traverse the underwater facility. The tanks were heavy, almost uncomfortably so, but you would much rather have air than have nothing at all. There was something pressed against the back of your neck, cold and hard. It was an annoying sensation to feel in addition to the constant weight, but you kept your mouth shut; you didn't want to give the guards a reason to take their frustrations regarding the current situation out on you.

However, despite how uncomfortable you felt with it against your skin, you refrained from touching it, not wanting to break or ruin your gear before you even started accidentally. The smoke of your still-burning cigarette wafts up into your gaze, reminding you of its existence. You take another long drag before it completely burns itself out, savoring it as much as you can, especially since it was probably your last one.

“Hey. How you hanging in there?” You hear a weirdly chipper voice call out to you, glancing up and seeing a somewhat familiar face. You had met them in the boat ride to the frozen island, a talkative middle-aged man with uneven stubble on his face and blindingly bright green eyes. He walked with an uneven gait, but had assured everyone that it didn’t slow him down. He smiles warmly at you and takes a seat beside you, bumping his knee with yours as he asks, “You excited for this mission, kid?”

“Yeah... I'm very excited to be sent to my death, just like I'm sure everyone else here is.” You reply in a deadpan tone, flicking the cigarette butt in your hand to the floor. There weren’t exactly any trash cans sitting around, so you weren’t going to worry about littering when you were practically sitting on death row.

He laughs loudly at your words, smacking your back with a bit too much force in a far too friendly manner, successfully knocking the air from your lungs before he comments cheerily, “Come on, now – keep your eyes on the prize! We’ve got freedom and money waiting for us at the finish line!”  

You bit your tongue, deciding not to mention that thousands of others had failed. What made him think your group would be successful? You can’t help but wonder what he was on to be so upbeat during this situation that practically everyone else felt hopeless in. That wasn't counting the occasional adrenaline junkie who was looking forward to the challenge or the people who wanted their death to be something extraordinary, of course.

You could feel the frustration building inside you, the heat filling your torso and up into your head. You turn away from him and take a deep breath, standing up before inquiring, “…Did you come over to fetch me? I'm assuming it’s our turn to head down, right?”

“You bet’cha.” He says with an easygoing smile, nodding at your question before he stands up and follows after you. The two of you walk along the plush rug that leads to where the submarines are docked, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the material. It was colored a deep crimson, almost like Urbanshade had laid out a red carpet just for you.

"How kind of them," you thought bitterly, hands balled into fists at your side, hidden in the pockets of your jumpsuit's pants. A gust of wind blows in from the outside, hitting your cheeks and causing your skin to burn from the cold. Your eyes flutter shut, and you try to savor and enjoy the feeling of fresh air against your skin, especially since the chance of it being your last was more than likely the case.

Soon, you’re standing with other expendables, a total of fifty being able to fit on a single submarine at a time. Everyone was dressed in the same blue suits, the same heavy airtanks on their backs, and almost everyone had the same hopeless expression on their faces.

Your group would be the sixteenth one sent down today, and all other contact with those who went before you has been cut off. The guard reminds you once again of your mission, and once again, what you will receive if you manage to succeed. Just another debrief to cover all their bases, and to make sure that everyone was told what would happen to them, to make themselves look more humane... 

The guard’s spiel is interrupted as the sound of shouting echoes from further down the docks, hidden behind the other submarines lined up and ready to descend. The yelling is muffled, and you're unable to hear what is going on. There's a lull in the argument, quickly followed by the noise of water splashing, almost as if someone jumped into the freezing-cold arctic sea.

Then, just as quickly, there’s a pop, and it sounded wet. You hear the noise of further splashing as whatever it was that blew up fell back into the water, smacking against the surface with a sickening sound. Everyone in your group just stands there, eyeing one another with varying levels of distress. Some people looked annoyed, others looked unbothered, and some looked incredibly pale.

The guard lets out a sigh, muttering something under his breath before the sound of a man’s voice buzzes to life over the intercom. You spare a glance at the speaker the sound emits from, the voice reverberating throughout the facility in an uncaring and practiced tone, “Just a reminder for all EXP-R, but attempting to leave the docks by swimming away or climbing the railings will subsequently result in PDG denotation. For your sake and the sake of the cleanup crew, we appreciate your cooperation.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, the taste of acid building in the back of your throat. Hastily, you swallow it back down, not wanting to start off your mission with a pile of your mediocre breakfast on the ground. There’s a loud sob, and your eyes dart over to see an older woman holding her hands to her face, shoulders shaking as she cries. Her silvery hair falls down around her shoulders, a testament to her life lived. Your brows furrow, and you cannot help but wonder what brought her here.

The guard pays the woman no mind, though, as he continues his speech, adamantly refusing to acknowledging the fact someone’s head was most likely blown clean off, “Much like it was just stated, be aware that your diving gear will be detonated remotely if you attempt to escape the Hadal Blacksite, disobey any direct orders given to you, enter any restricted areas without permission from superiors, attempt to attack any personnel, or if you pick up any weapons that have not been cleared for you to use. Additionally, if you attempt to tamper with your PDG device or remove it from your person, it will also cause it to fire.”

There’s another pause. The air feels thick, making breathing harder and harder to do successfully. You felt like you were drowning, and you weren’t even underwater yet. The woman’s cries sound so loud, and you hear a man yell at her to shut up. The noises they’re making are becoming fainter and fainter, like there was cotton stuffed into your ears. The thing pressed against your neck was some kind of gun or explosive, and you had no idea. You're glad you didn't try adjusting it earlier.

Then, the guard speaks up again, “Does anyone have any questions?”

“Fuck right off, you bastard! Why don’t you pricks, with all your special weapons and gear, go down there and get the crystal back yourselves!” The irate man yells at the guard, but he doesn’t make a move to attack him, knowing better at this point. The man who was filled with anger, with the scar across his face and a head devoid of any hair, scoffs, hands pointing an accusing finger at the guard as he cries out, “You’re all cowards – just a bunch of pussies makin’ people do your work for you!”

“Thank you for your feedback. Now, please, everyone, form a single-file line into the submarine. Any pushing or shoving may result in physical restraints being placed upon you until successful completion of the trip to the Hadal Blacksite, or you will promptly be executed by our NAVI AI system if deemed too much of a liability to the mission.” The guard says, making sure to adjust the grip on the gun in his hand. He shifts his body ever so slightly to draw attention to the electrified stick hanging from his hip, too. Those minuscule actions, those small movements, were enough to get everyone to line up, one behind the other, before the entire group walked to their death.

Everyone crowds inside the submarine, sitting down on the benches that line both walls. You were seated between the man who had come to retrieve you, the usual chipper look he wore now completely gone, now replaced with an unhealthy paleness and sweat forming on his brow; he sat on your right, nervously fiddling with his hands. To your left was a woman around your age, her arms crossed over her chest, a blank expression plastered across her features. The irate man was sitting across from you, his hands holding onto the bench beneath him with an iron grip, so much so that his knuckles were turning white. The woman who had been crying had quieted down, now sitting near the front of the vessel, holding herself in what looked like a hug in an attempt to comfort herself in what could potentially be her final moments.

It was practically silent as the guard checked to make sure everything was fine before exiting, his footfalls echoing throughout the space. Then, he gives a nod, stepping out of the vessel and stating robotically, “I wish you all the best of luck. May you receive the crystal and earn your freedom. Farewell, and thank you for your service to Urbanshade.”

The mechanical sound of the door closing is the last thing you hear before you feel the submarine jolt, the descent into the inky void below having now begun. The eerie silence lasts for about fifteen minutes before the woman with the silver strands begins to cry again, her sobs echoing in the enclosed space. Everyone was doing their best to avoid acknowledging her, even if you could hear the teeth of the irate man with the hairless head grinding together from where you were sitting.

How was your group supposed to retrieve a crystal at the heart of this facility? What the hell was the point of all this unnecessary loss of human life?

“S-So, uh… what brought you here?” A voice calls out to you, sounding small and unsure.

You turn to look to your right, and the man with the stubble is giving you an uneasy smile, his green eyes now glazed over and dull. There was a crookedness to some of his teeth, one of his canines seemingly growing sideways into his gums. Your hands fidget in your lap, fingers intertwining like the weaving of a wicker basket. You just mutter a short and simple answer, “Second-degree murder.”

Whatever he had been expecting, it most certainly wasn’t that. He exhales sharply through his closed teeth, shifting away from you slightly as he stutters, “Oh, damn. I, haha… wasn’t expecting that. I assumed you were in for, like, petty theft or something...”

There’s a pause before he says, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips, “I was caught for drug trafficking… God forbid a man feed his family, am I right?”

You don’t reply, instead staring back down at your hands, wondering if you should have just remained locked up with no chance of escape. You envision your life in the past as you stare blankly ahead, unblinking, the feeling of the beach waves crashing against your ankles, the way the grass felt underneath your feet as you ran, the warm breeze lapping against your skin as laughter fills the air.

Your body twitches slightly, your mouth almost painfully dry as your tongue traverses around each of your smooth teeth one by one in an attempt to moisten them. You were still fighting off that urge to puke, doing everything you could to not let the bile rise in your esophagus.

You hear her breathing before you see her, glancing over to take in the sight of the older woman with tear-streaked cheeks and her silvery hair that was now awry, having been tugged on by her slightly wrinkled hands. When she stands up from her seat to pace around, no one says anything; all expendables in the submarine were currently engaged in some final act of self-reflection before the vessel arrives at the intended destination.

When she begins to mutter under her breath prayers for her god to forgive her for her sins, to grant her a chance in heaven, you can’t help but raise a brow. Her rambling was starting to become more slurred, her hands shaking as they combed through her hair. Her unblinking eyes dripped an endless stream of tears, her voice becoming louder and louder.

“Sit the fuck down, you crazy bitch! I’m sick of hearing you and your endless fucking whining!” The irate man yells, slamming his hands against the bench he sat on. When the woman flinched at the noise, it only seemed to upset him further. He stands up quickly, the people around him afraid to stop him, and he strides over to the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders as he shakes and shakes and shakes—…

“L-Let go of me! Get off of me!” The woman cries out. You can feel your palms become sweaty, your gut twisting and swirling, and the occasional jolt of the submarine not doing much to ease your stomach. You feel your mind becoming foggy again, and everything blurs around you. You hear the two of them arguing faintly, the sound of others joining the conflict in an attempt to stop the fighting muffled.

You cannot make out the words, just the panicked sound of the woman begging for freedom, for a chance to see her grandchildren again. You hear her mutter that it was too tight, too constricting, and then-... then you hear a pop, and you feel the way something wet and hot splatters against your skin and drips down your face…

The sound of terrified screams fills the air soon after, now thick with the smell of iron, an uncomfortable humidity quickly filling the small space. People are running around, and the vessel is shaking. There’s more pops, more shrieks and cries. Your eyes lock onto your hands, now flecked with specks of bright red, the color only enhanced under the crimson shade of the lights above you. You know you shouldn’t look up, you should keep your eyes trained solely on your lap, but you do. Your eyes travel slowly up, taking in the sight of the older woman lying motionless on the ground, the back of her head having been broken open.

Past the whiteness of her shattered skull, now colored a deep red that looked almost black due to the scarlet lights of the vessel, lies what remains of her brain. There were clumps of gray matter floating in a pool of blood, bobbing with every motion of the submarine like apples floating in a barrel. Her face was turned away from you, something you were deeply thankful for.

You could imagine what it looked like, though, considering her jaw sat a few feet away from her unmoving body, eyes probably blown wide open, tear streaks most likely still apparent on her sunken cheeks. Her teeth had scattered across the floor from the force of the blast, pebbles of white rolling around, all becoming smeared with the red that flooded the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut, your hands clasped firmly together in your lap. You whisper to her a prayer, hoping that, maybe, she would be able to reach the heaven she believed in.

The panic eventually dies down after more yelling and crying. Now, everything was silent again, the occasional sob echoing in the space. Time goes incredibly slow, the journey feeling as though it would never end, until the submarine finally comes to a stop. There’s a brief pause before the hatch opens once more, and just like that, you have surfaced at the Hadal Blacksite. The sound of a woman’s voice starts, stating robotically, "The submarine has arrived. Please stand at a minimum of 5 studs away from the hatch until it's fully opened. Please exit the submarine in a calm and orderly fashion."

Your team of fifty suddenly was now a team of forty-four, six expendables having been executed in the scuffle, including the irate man who lay motionless next to the older woman. Everyone makes their way out of the ship, some to vomit nearby while others have seemingly already done so in the vessel. You numbly walk over to the water’s edge, kneeling on the concrete flooring as you reach out, scooping the cold water in your hands as you do your best to clean the blood and chunks of flesh from your skin and hair.

There’s barely any time for everyone to process what just happened before a voice echoes from the intercom, a pre-recorded message playing, “As you are aware, the primary goal is to reach and secure the Crystal. Your secondary objective is to secure as many loose assets as you can. You may open and follow the number-marked doors when ready.”

“H-Holy shit, I… I can’t fucking do this.” You hear a voice mutter beside you, turning to see the man with the stubble, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stares at his reflection in the water. You watch as the droplets fall into the dark waters, causing ripples to expand across the surface. Your gaze falls to your own reflection dancing across the mirror-like plane, taking in the sight of your expression – never before had you seen such a glazed look in your eyes, even back then. 

You barely have time to think before a new voice suddenly begins to speak over the systems, their voice smooth with an almost disappointed tone to their words as they speak, “Such a shame that this is what Urbanshade sent, despite my suggestion for them to send me some of their ‘highly trained’ operatives instead… Oh well, I hope that some of you will at least provide me with a challenge.” The person’s voice becomes a bit lighter, muttering as if it were amusing to them, “I cannot wait to see what this batch of expendables has to offer.”

Chapter Text

“Such a shame that this is what Urbanshade sent, despite my suggestion for them to send me some of their ‘highly trained’ operatives instead… Oh well, I hope that some of you will at least provide me with a challenge.” The voice over the intercom speaks plainly, the sound of them holding back a chuckle apparent before they state with a tinge of excitement in their tone, “I cannot wait to see what this batch of expendables has to offer.”

The PA system shuts off soon after, leaving a heavy weight pressing down on your body, causing your form to curl into itself ever so slightly. You pull your knees to your chest, pressing your forehead against them, your eyes fluttering shut. You attempt to think about the outside world, the way the grass used to feel against your palms, or the way the sand felt between your toes, but it wasn’t working. Your mind kept going back to the popping of gunshots, the splatter of blood against your face… You were already so, so tired, and you hadn’t even made any real progress yet.

“Who… who the hell was that?” Someone asks, but their question is met with silence. No one knew, and no one cared. It was probably one of the many people who hated Urbanshade. An individual who, simply based on their words alone, probably wanted your entire group dead and had most likely been a reason for the demise of those who came before you. You would be following a path paved in blood, a trail of breadcrumbs left behind that would lead to what was most certainly going to be your demise as well.

Then, just like that, the only noises that filled the space was the sound of the water lapping against the metal of the submarine that has not yet left to return to the surface, the choked sobs of people scattered throughout the room, and the occasional gag as another person finds themselves unable to keep the bile from rising in their throat and spilling past their lips.

You turn your head to take in your expression that was reflecting back at you on the inky surface of the water, your eyes hollow and glazed over while the lights above you cast a halo of artificial glow around your head. Hastily, your eyes move away from your visage distorted by the moving water. You haven’t been able to look at your reflection for very long nowadays, at least not for the past however many years, but what you just saw didn’t even look like you anymore – it made you sick.

The man with the stubble, however, continues to stare down at his reflection, green eyes wide in terror. You wonder how he can stand to look at himself for that long. Everyone else was relatively far away from you, but he had been sticking by your side nearly this entire journey. You wondered why he was doing it.

Was it simply because he chatted with you on the boat ride to the island and assumed you were friends now? Did he expect something from you in return for his welcoming and warm attitude? Your thoughts stop immediately, though, when the silence begins to crack. He begins to talk, his voice low as it breaks with every other syllable.

“I just… I want to see my kids again – wanted to give ‘em a good life, show ‘em their dad wasn’t a fucking deadbeat like everyone tells ‘em I am...” You hear him mutter under his breath, watching how his brows furrow downward more as the whispers flow from his lips like a gas leak. You didn’t know if he was talking to you, himself, or some unseen being like the silver-haired woman who prayed to her god before her untimely death.

You hear the sound of his teeth grinding together, the noise akin to nails on a chalkboard. His hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning snow white as they prevent his hunched-over body from tumbling forward into the abyss while his fingers dig into the concrete below. He was now adorned with an expression you had yet to see previously on the once chipper man’s face. In a flash, he raises one hand before swinging, his fist smacking harshly against the water. The movement causes salty brine to splash and ripple, spraying across himself, the unloading dock, and onto you as he cries out, “Damn it – damn it all!”

You flinch when a speck of water hits your cheek, but at least this time, what splashed on you was light and cool rather than something searing hot and thick. There’s a pause, a moment when he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, the following exhale shaky as the air leaves his lungs. His palm, now wet, lies atop the concrete below him as the water slowly trails down his skin, causing the light grey of the ground to darken. His body is hunched over, trembling, before he weakly smacks the dock with a defeated, “…D-Damn it.”

“We need to get moving,” A monotonous voice calls out, stating as if it were an order, which, you suppose, it was. You finally look away from the man, eyes falling on the figure of a woman. She was the one who had been sitting next to you on the submarine, the bob that framed her face angular and sharp, almost as if it would be able to cut anyone who got too close. She hadn’t bothered to clean the blood splatters from her face, instead wiping them off on the sleeve of her suit. She hums and states plainly, “We came down here to get that fucking crystal, and I’m not just going to sit here and wait for them to blow my head off.”

An argument breaks out over her statement. Some people refused to leave the room, while others wanted to continue forward. A younger man throws his hands into the air, exclaiming, “They didn’t tell us all this shit before they sent us down here – I didn’t fucking agree to this!” He pauses, turning to glare daggers at the PA system, shouting at the ceiling, “You hear me, you bastards!? When I get back up there, I’m going to paint the walls red with everything you’ve got in you!”

You didn't really have a choice in this situation, but really, when had you ever? Slowly, you begin to push yourself off the ground, arms and legs numb, perfectly mimicking the way your mind currently felt. With your feet dragging behind you, you line up near the door, standing with the roughly thirty others who were now ready to continue the mission. Everyone else, even the man with the stubble, decided to stay behind. You overheard them talking about hiding in the submarine and getting a free ride back to the surface.

Deep in your gut, it felt as though someone was squeezing your intestines, the meat of your organs oozing between their fingers… You had a feeling you knew what was going to happen if that was the choice they were making. After all, Urbanshade was not known for its kindness. If they were, they wouldn't have been sending untrained "expendables" for a mission that should have required trained personnel. Yet, you do not give your two cents on the matter. There was no reason to. They wouldn’t listen, anyway.

No one said another word, one group blazing ahead into certain death while the other stayed behind in an attempt to prolong their life, even if only for a few more moments. You found yourself sparing one last glance at the man, his form unmoving by the water's edge as his eyes stayed locked onto his reflection. You didn’t know why you looked back, but you did, and now you could move forward.

The footfalls of so many people moving in tandem were loud, echoing through the gray and almost sterile hallways of the facility. Everyone was looking around, throwing open desk drawers and opening cabinets with reckless abandon in an attempt to find anything they could use to make surviving more likely. There were files, vials with strange liquids, and an occasional battery that could be used to power something later on. In your search, you found yourself a lantern, unsure of when you would need to use such a thing. After all, the place was fully lit and powered thanks to that crystal – you hadn’t seen any room encased in total darkness yet.

By the time your team had made it through seven separate rooms and connected hallways, managing to find the keycards to continue traversing the liminal spaces each time, you heard the faint sound of popping and gunfire. It almost sounded like fireworks in the distance, but you knew better. Everyone freezes, pausing for a moment before continuing on as if nothing had happened. The woman with the bob simply muttered, “…Glad to know these things shoot if we don’t move for a certain period of time. Guess there’s no stopping for us.”

No one said anything about her callous words; everyone remained solely focused on the objective, nothing more, nothing less. You were moving almost robotically, checking each drawer, double-checking ones already opened just to make sure nothing was missed. You could feel the burden of the loose assets and research you had already managed to collect weighing heavily on you, and you wondered if that was the reason your feet began to drag more than they had been prior. There was a guilt building inside you that you were attempting to push down; you didn’t have the time or energy for that right now.

You realize, though, you hadn’t shed a single tear for those who were killed – the people who died in such inhumane and horrific ways. You were a horrible person, and you always had been, hadn’t you?

There’s a beep followed by the sound of another door sliding open, the mechanical noises of the cogs enhanced by the material the facility was built with. Whoever was currently leading your group seemed to have successfully found the keycard. You pause your search for files, fingers ceasing their combing through the manila folders, when you hear the sound of those in the front of the party gag.

“What the hell… where did all this blood come from?” The person who had opened the door asks, covering their mouth with their hand as they stare into the room they had unlocked. The sign next to the heavy metal door, illuminated in green numbers, read 089. You weren’t even halfway to where the crystal was located, and it had already felt as though you had spent an eternity down here.

“Well, whatever or whoever bled all over the place is gone, and I ain’t sticking around long enough to find out what happened to them.” Another person replies, shoulder checking past the leader, making their way into the next room to search for another keycard. You decide to move on, too, standing up from your kneeled position on the floor before kicking the cabinet shut with your foot. You find your gaze traveling to the bobbed-haired woman, noticing the way she shifted while she stood, eyes darting back and forth, almost as if she was pre-planning an escape route if anything were to happen.

The next set of hallways was slightly different than the ones everyone was used to seeing by now. There were a few rooms that looked like they were pulled straight out of a cubicle that branched off the main path, all of them illuminated with a warm glow compared to the blue fluorescent lights seen in the rest of the facility. You let out a sigh, beginning to make your way over to one of the rooms to search for more assets, research, and/or keycards; you were starting to get into a routine.

However, you stop when you hear it, a faint noise that echoes from behind you. It causes everyone in the group to pause, their eyes darting back and forth as they look at one another for any sort of acknowledgement of what they thought they heard.

With furrowed brows, you turn around, staring down the long hallway and past the many rooms your team had already managed to make their way through. Your eyes catch a glimpse of something in the distance, a flicker of light getting brighter as the seconds tick by. The floor beneath your feet begins to vibrate, causing the room to shake more and more noticeably as the faint noise you heard before becomes louder and louder. Whatever it was, rushing toward your group at an alarming speed, it was screaming, the sound alone causing your hair to stand on end.

As soon as the lights began to flicker rapidly, all hell broke loose. Everyone was pushing one another, attempting to find a hiding place. You look around, head swiveling side-to-side at a speed that probably could have broken your neck, moving like one would expect from a bobble-head. Your eyes land on a nearby locker, and you begin to rush over, hands outstretched as you get ready to grab the handles and rip it open–!

You suddenly feel two hands ball into the fabric of your suit from behind, pulling you back harshly, jostling your form. The world slows down, and you turn your head, watching as the woman with the bob spares not a single glance at you, fear apparent in her eyes as she rushes inside the small space of the locker that could only fit one. You hit the floor hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, gasping out in an attempt to breathe. The sound of glass shattering mixes with the screaming and chaos that is encasing you, sounding like a choir of death as it travels throughout the facility.

A brief glance to the side reveals that the lantern you had managed to find was now destroyed, lying useless on the ground next to you. You move quickly, crawling on your hands and knees through the chaos, making your way to one of the many offices to take cover underneath the desks. The sound from whatever was approaching was loud and high enough to make your ears feel like they were bleeding, and you could feel the pain prickling on the palms of your hands. Maybe you had crawled through glass, but you didn't care. It wasn’t important right now, and you were sure of that. 

You make it just in time, taking cover underneath an office desk, when you hear a sickening thud. There was one, then two, then ten… You lost count after a while, sitting underneath that desk you were lucky enough to make it to in time, a bloody hand slapped over your mouth as the minute shards of glass cut at the flesh of your lip. There was no one else alongside you in the room – you were completely alone.

Moments pass slowly, feeling like years instead of seconds. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, the sound of it playing in your ears like a drum. At some point, the flickering lights had completely turned off, the bulbs having popped from whatever creature had rushed through, leaving broken glass littered about the rooms and hallways that were now cast in an endless darkness. When you can no longer hear the sound of whatever had just passed through, you lower your hand from your mouth, tongue lapping out before the tang of iron floods your taste buds. It makes your stomach churn.

Carefully, you stand, taking slow steps to the doorway, glass crunching like snow beneath your soles. One hand rests on the wall, helping guide you through the darkness. Your eyes squint subconsciously in the dim light, attempting to find a way to the exit. There was no way you would be able to find a keycard in the dark, so you prayed silently that the other members of your team managed to get out and open the door. In your attempt to find the way out, you stumble, falling to the floor as your chin smacks against the metal plates. 

Your teeth crack against one another, the movement enough to make your skull rattle. You let out a low hiss, hand reaching out to feel for whatever you tripped over—…

Underneath your fingertips felt like a nose, bent and crooked. Your heart falls into your stomach, your hand traversing the contours when your breath hitches. Maybe you were wrong – maybe it was something else. Then, you felt a slight tickle from the eyelashes as your palm brushed over their eyes that were still wide open, moving down to feel their cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. There was blood that had dripped down their nose and lips, having smeared across their face. Their body was still warm. Shakily, you press your fingers against their neck, but you find nothing. Their pulse had gone completely silent.

You pull your hand back quickly, almost like it had burned you. Swiftly, you stand up, moving away to get out of this room as soon as possible, only to fall down once more. Another body, another husk that was soft and still radiating heat. You gag, crawling the rest of the way, managing to find the open door as you tread over the corpses of your team. Your knee presses into the stomach of someone as you move, and you whisper an apology under your breath.

It takes a while until you no longer stumble over bodies. The lights in this new room are dim, not having completely been blown out by the entity you managed to avoid, and you were never so thankful to be blessed with sight as you were in this very moment. You inhale shakily, calling out for anyone to see if someone had stayed behind with you, to see if you had anyone you could rely on.

There is no reply, only silence, and you wonder to yourself what else you expected. You always had to do things on your own, so why would now be an exception to that curse you had experienced throughout nearly the entirety of your life? You crawl over to the side of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall as you begin to tear the shards of glass from your hands, now decorated with minuscule cuts and shallow puncture wounds.

You bite down on your tongue, head pressed against the wall as you allow, just for a moment, your eyes to flutter shut. Now, you were on your own, and there was no longer a path made from the sacrifices of those who came before to follow. After taking another moment to yourself, another moment to breathe in and out, you eventually stand and continue forward. You refused to die like this.

Chapter Text

You took a moment in an attempt to gather yourself, to try and shove everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced into the back of your mind. After all, if you didn’t, you were surely going to make a mistake you wouldn’t be able to take back or go mad, which would be a death sentence in of itself. You felt like you were trying to cram too many things into a dresser, the mess of clothes spilling out and making the door nearly impossible to shut, but you needed to close it. Your life was dependent on it.

Your eyes were closed, just for a few seconds, the material of your jumpsuit between the tips of your pointer finger and thumb, rubbing the smooth fabric in a way to aid in grounding you to the here and now. Sure, you were still stuck in a facility unknown to the general public, located miles upon miles under the freezing and rough waters of the Arctic Ocean… but right now, you were alive, and one thing you were certain of was that you refused to die like this.

There’s another moment, another pause, before you finally force yourself to stand again, a nervousness welling in your gut as you move away from the wall and to the center of the room. If you remember correctly, which could very well be completely wrong considering everything you’ve been forced to endure so far these excruciating few hours, the entity you encountered stayed near the middle of the path. It hadn’t examined any of the other rooms where you, or potentially anyone else, had decided to hide.

You decide to take a page from the book of the bobbed-haired woman, beginning to map out in your mind potential hiding spots. There weren’t many in this room, though, just a locker or two… You can't help but wonder what happened to her, but you don’t dwell on the thought. You didn’t have time to, and you shouldn’t even care enough to think about someone who pulled you from safety, only to throw you on the ground while the shrieking of an unknown beast grew closer and closer.

…You weren’t bitter. You couldn’t be. Humans, typically, didn’t want to experience death. She didn’t want to die, and neither did you. When you wanted to live, to survive, most people did whatever they could to ensure that they could exist for another month, another day, another second.

Continuing the mission alone wasn’t much different than with a group, albeit it was indeed much lonelier. However, you suppose that probably wasn’t the right word to use. You still felt lonely surrounded by the members of your party, but now, there wasn’t the noise of muffled words or the sound of footsteps filling the space. It was an unnatural silence, with the occasional creaking of the facility or the sound of something scurrying in the vents… You hoped whatever it was above you did not have the intention to eat you alive, especially since it sounded quite large.

The rooms were starting to look too similar, your mind wondering if you had actually made any progress at all. It felt like you had passed through the same place five separate times, but you know you hadn’t. The screen by the door read 078 in that shade of eye-straining, neon green, so you knew that you hadn’t imagined what you had managed to accomplish. Despite the fact that you could feel your brain degrading, melting in your skull, you were certain you weren’t just envisioning this. The papers held tightly in your hands were too heavy, the cold sensation against your neck as the shotgun remains ready to shoot too real.

Your feet propel you forward, pausing when the path branches in front of you. There’s a moment of hesitation, contemplating which way you should go. You hadn’t been paying attention to what lay at your feet, deciding to head to the right instead of straight. Your foot catches on something, but this time, you do not fall. You manage to catch yourself on the side of a nearby desk, the sudden shift shaking the furniture and causing the items resting on the surface to fall and smash against the ground.

Your head incisively swivels down, wanting to see what had nearly caused you to eat shit for the nth time today. Then, you see it, red wrapped in a thin layer of blues and blacks. It takes your mind a moment to catch up, recognizing what was below you to be a leg, severed from whoever’s body it had been once attached to. You can see the thick bone popping out from the flesh, two white dots lost within the expanse of muscle.

Raw meat, blood coagulating around the appendage severed at the knee. White strands of sinew threaded between the red of the flesh, looking like a sewn tapestry of human muscle and tissue. You’re not able to stop it this time around, body hunching over as you feel the vomit crawl up your throat and splatter across the floor. Your eyes water, the taste of acid and what Urbanshade had fed you before leaving for the mission mingling together across your tongue. It was disgusting, only causing you to gag and choke even more.

Your body is lurching, having collapsed on the floor, hands holding your shaking body up as it expels the contents of what remained in your stomach. Your eyes are closed, tears trickling past your eyelashes and down your cheeks while quiet sobs mix with the sound of your retching. Another moment to yourself, another moment to catch your breath as the lingering taste in your mouth from your bile nearly causes you to puke again.

With teary eyes, you look over at the door you had planned on entering, noticing things you had somehow missed in your initial overview. There were three deep grooves carved into the metal flooring, lacerations thick as they trailed across the steel and titanium sheets back into the room the door led to. There was red splatter painted across the walls, a streak of blood on the ground where it looked as though someone had been dragged inside, having been attempted to be cleaned up. Your wide-eyed gaze looks up at the green numbers, the 077 glitching ever so slightly.

It was a trap, and you had nearly fallen for it. The person before you certainly had, and that thought had your mind spiraling and your body shaking. You wipe the remnants of vomit and tears from your face with the back of your sleeve, forcing yourself to stand on your shaking legs; you felt like a newborn fawn thrown into the den of something much bigger and much stronger than you.

You backtrack, searching through the desks until you find the needed keycard waiting for you, shoved haphazardly between a few random files. It was like you were already dead, walking up to the door like a zombie, scanning the small card held between your fingers. The door beeps and slides open, indicating you have successfully made it to the next room.

Things were fine for a while, almost unnervingly so. You hadn’t seen or heard anything or anyone, hadn’t seen any more remains or remnants of those who came before you. Everything was calm, even though you knew that was most certainly not going to last. There was a storm coming, but you were prepared, having already found and noted a few spots you would be able to hide if the time came when it was needed.

Kneeling down beside a filing cabinet, hands combing through the papers as you shove anything stamped with a large and red [CLASSIFIED] into the bag hanging on your side, not bothering to spare them a glance. You were asked to retrieve assets, not read them; besides, you didn't want to learn some top-secret Urbanshade intel and have it come back to bite you in the ass.

Then, you hear that faint and distinct noise again, that screaming that makes you feel like you’re choking on your heart as it lodges itself in your throat. The room was shaking, harder and faster than before, and the lights were flickering far more violently than in the last encounter as the sound got closer and closer.

You rush forward, making your way to a locker. No one else was here, no one else was going to pull you back and throw you to an untimely demise. You were going to be safe – you were going to live.

A brief glance down the hall shows that whatever it was racing towards you was not the same entity as before. No, this one was somehow faster. You throw open the locker doors with reckless abandon, ready to jump inside, when you feel something wet and thick grab onto you, wrapping around your abdomen and leg like the slimy sensation of a tentacle. With wide eyes, your mind attempts to determine what was in front of you, but you didn’t know. You had never seen anything like this before.

It was a puddle of pure darkness, the fluid it was made of dripping from its body; the feeling of it on your skin was viscous as it pulled you inside. You were trapped in the dark with whatever it was that had you in its grasp, purple eyes staring at you, wide and curious, as the sensation of it holding onto you made you begin to hyperventilate. You break your hand away from its body, or what you assumed was the entity’s body, bringing a closed fist down multiple times as you attempt to beat the creature off of you.

It doesn’t budge, and it feels as though you’re not even hitting anything. You could feel something begin to burn your skin, dissolving through the fabric of your clothing and causing your flesh to sting. Your body turns, back now facing the creature as you desperately claw at the door to the locker, attempting to open it and escape. Your fingernails catch against the metal, and you feel a few of them ripped off as you scratch ceaselessly on the doors.

You cry out, begging for help, for anyone to come and save you. You didn’t want to die like this, surrounded by something you could feel harshly sliding up and down your body, but something that you seemingly could not touch. It was too much, the sensation of it against your form, and you ended up vomiting again as unwanted memories flooded your mind. It pours down your chest, what little bile remained in your gut, but that didn’t deter the entity from stopping what it had started.

You grew weaker, the burning and stinging sensation growing stronger by the second. Your hands that were pressed against the locker are eventually consumed by the void. In your mind, your life plays before your eyes, desperately trying to find a memory that could help you persist in the circumstances you have found yourself in, and yet, there is nothing. You had never seen a creature like this, nor did you know how to survive one. You and everyone sent down with you had been set up for failure.

Your vision blurs and darkens, snot and tears dripping down your face as you lose sensation across your body, your nerves having been dissolved by the creature digesting you alive. Your sight cuts out before your other senses do; the sound of your gurgled breathing and heart thumping rapidly behind your ribcage fills your ears before all is encompassed by silence. Everything is dark and quiet, yet you do not feel at peace.

Then, it all goes away. You’re no longer being restrained, forced inside a small enclosure with an entity that holds onto you like a vice. Sitting up in a chair, you gasp for air, hunching over as you choke on nothing. Your hand was shaking, pressed against what seemed to be a desk in front of you. The tears in your eyes blur your vision, but you could tell that, wherever you were, it was an endless sea of black. There was no floor, no walls, just a desk with a laptop to your left, and a pile of files to your right. Next to the papers were two vials, one a swirl of blue and purple, while the other was a marbled red and orange. They were pretty, that you had to admit, their dull glow illuminating the space around them. 

You had died, that you were sure of. It was an unremarkable death, resulting in your body never to be found and evidence of your life most likely erased from existence. You had heard many theories about what the afterlife would be… Bright white, pearly gates resting atop an endless sea of clouds. A blink before cries fill the space, your soul given another chance to live inside another body, or a dark, endless void that leads to nothing. Wherever you were seemed more like the latter, but you don’t remember there being talk of an office set-up ready to go when you passed.

…Was this hell?

Your thoughts didn’t have time to spiral about where exactly you had been sent after death, a voice suddenly cutting in, causing your body to jolt in surprise. You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be here with you. Their voice was familiar, though, sounding almost bored, yet there was a very clear tinge of cruel humor apparent as they stated, “Oh. Hello. You died...Whaaat a shame.”

You want to cut in, to ask them who they were – were they a god, Satan, or something else entirely? Three blue eyes stare down at you, unblinking and unimpressed as they continue, not letting you get a word in, “We haven't met before, but hopefully you'll be able to stay alive long enough next time for me to give a proper introduction.”

They pause before hissing out, “Since those idiots up there didn't feel like telling you about which exact dangers you'd face down here, I've been asked to fill that role. Whenever you die, you'll be brought here, and I'll show you a document detailing what caused your oh so early demise. Now, let me find what caused your… ahhh, here it is.”

There’s the sound of something shuffling, of pages flipping, before an open file is thrown haphazardly in front of you, sliding across the desk. Your gaze falls from the eyes illumined in the darkness to inspect the paper before you, most of the lines completely blacked out. There wasn’t much information that hadn’t been censored, causing your brows to furrow as your eyes quickly scan across the pages, taking in everything you possibly could. In the top left corner of the file were two pictures of the creature that had captured you, those purple eyes floating within the inky expanse of its body, causing your stomach to lurch at the recent memory.

Puddles of Void-mass… that’s what it was called, then, the entity who devoured you whole. You wanted to ask about the other creatures you had heard and seen, desperate to know about the entities you were being forced to face, considering Urbanshade had told you nothing about how to survive encounters with the beasts they had locked up in their facility. You lean forward, mouth parted as you get ready to speak, only for a large hand to roughly press against your lips, their palm silencing you as your breath catches in your throat.

“Ah-ah, I’m not finished, so don’t even think about interrupting me.” They growl, voice low, before they clear it away with a cough, removing their hand from your mouth before you hear the sound of them wiping it off on their clothing. They continue with their spiel as if that hadn’t even happened, tone back to what you deemed as their normal, “He was very specific with... how much information I could share with you. It's stupid, I know, but they’re his orders, not mine. All the documents are heavily classified – a lot of black lines, [REDACTED] text – the whole nine yards.”

The figure standing in front of you, form hidden in the shadows as they continue to speak, shifting slightly where they stood, “The more times you die to something, the more black lines he lets me remove. Though I’m sure that’s not something you’d like to make a habit of.”

Their gaze moves away from you, glancing down at the open folder in front of you. They tsk at the file they see, rolling their glowing eyes before a clawed, blue hand reaches across the desk and closes the file. You note they only have four fingers instead of five, each adorned with a long talon, sharp enough to easily rip apart flesh. They must have been more humanoid compared to the other creatures you had seen.

“A reeeal rookie mistake. It’s such a shame no one was there to help you…” They let out a dry chuckle before snidely adding, “Try to pay more attention next time, yeah?”

You move to stand up from your chair, wanting to demand more answers, to figure out who exactly this person was. You desperately wanted more information about this task they spoke of that was given to them by some unknown he to aid you through this situation. Though when you rise from the seat, frustration flooding your veins, there is no floor beneath your feet. Your hands grab onto the edge of the desk, attempting to lift your body back up as your nails dig into the wood, but you feel a pair of cold hands unfurl your fingers from the solid surface, their voice calling out, “Time for you to go. Bye-bye, now.”

A scream is torn from your throat as you fall, the light from the desk growing dimmer and dimmer as you tumble into the abyss beneath you. Your eyes slam shut, breathing becoming harder and harder to do. You’re prepared to hit something, to slam against the ground, causing your body to pop like a water balloon—!

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Then, you smell it, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke. You hear the sound of many people talking, voices echoing all around you. A man makes an announcement over the PA system, voice monotonous and robotic. After a few moments, you finally bring yourself to open your eyes.

You see the sunlight before your mind registers where you are, flinching slightly at the blinding white of the island beyond the opening to the docks. You blink a few times before rubbing your eyes, wondering if you were dreaming. You were no longer falling, sitting on that same concrete block with the metal tower behind you, just as you had been before descending to the Hadal Blacksite. In your hand was a cigarette, lit and burning away as the ashes fell from the dull glow of the orange tip.

Tossing the cigarette haphazardly to the side, you stand up quickly, unzipping your clothing with shaking fingers. Your hands and eyes scanned across your body, fingers pinching and moving the white, sleeveless tank that everyone wore underneath the navy fabric of their jumpsuit. Despite the burning sensation, the feeling of tendrils ghosting across your flesh, there was nothing there. Any scar, blemish, or birthmark was exactly where they had always been; there was nothing new to see.

You’re breathing heavily, and you can feel the questioning looks from the people around you. Before you have the chance to do anything else, you hear a familiar voice call out to you, blood turning cold as they call out, “I was going to ask how you were hanging in there, but it seems like you’re having a rough time, kid.”

Slowly, you raise your head, looking at the man with the stubble and green eyes, that carefree smile plastered across his face once more as if it had never left in the first place. He chuckles nervously at your expression, saying as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Geez, I thought you’d be glad to see a friendly face, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost instead.”

Little did he know, it felt like you were. You were back on the surface, at the docks with that heavy and suffocating weight pressing down on your shoulders, knowing that the tip of a gun was pressed against the back of your neck. You were given a second chance… and you didn’t know what to do with it.

Chapter Text

Somehow, for whatever reason, you were alive, and your body had been put back together as if nothing even happened in the first place. No longer did your skin and muscles feel like they were sliding off your bones, falling to the locker floor with a wet thud as the entity that held you hostage consumed your flesh. Your body wasn’t being slowly digested anymore, and you weren’t encompassed by an endless void of vantablack sludge with glowing, purple eyes that followed your every movement.

Your body remembers, though, the burning sensation that covered every inch of your skin. The way the tendrils held your arms and legs with such strength that you weren’t able to move, forced to remain completely still, unable to fight back. You could still feel the way it had felt on your body, the sting as a tentacle brushed over your neck and chest, running down the side of your face, your eyes closing as you could feel the way everything–!

“Jesus, kid, you okay? You look like you’re gonna be sick.” The man’s voice snaps you out of your stupor, your hand having pressed against your mouth without you being aware of it, hoping and praying you didn’t throw up your guts before even entering the submarine. Your wide eyes dart to look at him, taking in the expression of genuine concern plastered across his features. Soon, he would be dead, and so would you, thrown back into the man-made hell beneath the ocean’s surface.

The worst part of it all, too, was that there was nothing you could do to escape this fate. It was too late to turn back, too late to ask to leave the island. No longer could you be sent back to your cell, far, far away from anything related to Urbanshade. Oh, how happy you would be to be given the choice to live out the rest of your sentence in relative peace rather than to set foot in the blacksite again.

You were backed against a wall, and all options were gone. There were no more choices you could make. If you tried to escape, you would be killed. If you got into that submarine, you would simply prolong your suffering. There was a voice in the back of your mind, urging you to jump over the railing and into the water, go over and attempt to attack a guard… At least that way, you would go out on your own terms, not the way the world seemed to have death planned out for you.

Then, that voice from the shadowed figure with the three eyes echoes in the back of your head, “The more times you die to something, the more black lines he lets me remove.”

Was that what you were supposed to do, then? Continue to die until you know the exact way to counter each of the monsters trapped within the hell that was the Hadal Blacksite? What was the end goal? Was it the crystal, or was it something else you needed to complete before you would be free? If there was a god, they were a cruel one, you decided. Perhaps this was your punishment, and maybe you had never been revived in the first place, instead forced to live out this miserable existence over and over again until you repented for the sins you had committed.

A hand is waved in front of your face, the green-eyed man muttering to you, “Do you… need me to see if they can get you some medical attention, kid? I’m sure they probably don’t want to send you down to the site in this state.”

You wanted to laugh at his words. It was almost hilarious to think about Urbanshade caring about the well-being of the expendables, as you all were so lovingly called. Yet, you couldn’t laugh; you just continued to stare at the man. He seemed genuine and kind, not having once done anything to anyone in the short time you had known him. He wasn’t like the irate man, yelling and grabbing people to jostle them around, nor was he like the woman with the bob, willing to crush anyone beneath her feet if it meant surviving.

“I’ll be… fine. I’m just nervous, I guess.” You reply, hand finally falling from where your palm had been pressed against your lips, now shoved in the pockets of your jumpsuit in an attempt to keep them warm. They were cold and clammy, fingers trembling slightly from the experience you seemed to have been alone in remembering. 

He seemed a little surprised you had replied, especially since in practically all previous interactions, you had never spoken a single word with him. He talked, you listened, so this was the first time he had heard your voice. The man with the stubble smiles at you, slapping his hand against your back as he says, “Hopefully once we get there, it won’t be as bad as we’re expecting! Keep your chin up, kiddo. Looks like we’ve got a solid team.”

Was the man seeing what you were seeing, or was he so delusional that he was trying to convince himself the group of forty-eight other people being sent down with him were a good team?  You refrain from allowing the harsh words bubbling in your throat from spilling out, biting your tongue so hard that the taste of iron fills your mouth. What hopeful thinking he had… everything would be worse when you arrived at the Hadal Blacksite, and a part of you wanted to tell him, crush his idealized view of everything now before the reality of what lies beneath the surface does.  

Though, when he gives you that annoyingly encouraging smile, waving his hand for you to follow as he begins to make his way towards the submarine that would be the final resting place for many of the people you would descend to the bottom of the trench with, you cannot find it in yourself to speak the truth of the horrors you would face. Your hand clenches into a fist, fingernails digging into your palms as you follow behind him, lining up in attendance to your own funeral.

The guard speaks, their voice muffled in your brain. The same words, the same tone – that wasn’t new. The pop and splatter of someone’s head being blown off wasn’t new, either, even if your stomach still twisted, having seen the damage the PDGs can do to the human body. Everyone is pale or upset, and everyone walks single-file into the submarine, careful not to step out of line. 

The woman with the gray hair panics as soon as the doors close, and the irate man once again stands up to berate her, grabbing her shoulders before throwing her roughly to the floor. You watch the way her breathing becomes labored, the way her wrinkled hands dig into the fabric of her jumpsuit, trying to tear it open but not being able to. She’s pleading, begging for someone to help her, saying that she can’t breathe. You watch with a blank stare as she attempts to take the gear off, the mere action immediately causing that deafening sound to reverberate in the space.  

You’re splattered with blood and brain matter, the sensation warm and sticky. However, it feels like you’re not really there in the submarine, merely watching yourself and the chaos unfolding from outside your body. The man with the stubble is frozen, the woman with the bobbed hair looks unimpressed, and the irate man once again finds himself dead on the ground after having been deemed a liability to the mission. There’s crying and screaming, the smell of iron and bile filling your nose.

Then, the submarine docks, and everyone is ordered to get off. You stand and walk out of the vessel in a daze, the man with the stubble rushing past you to wash himself off in the freezing water. There are people who refuse to leave the submarine, demanding to be sent back up. You pause, turning to look at them… no one had done that the last time.

The NAVI AI system states once more, her voice sounding almost fed up when she speaks, “Please exit the submarine in a calm and orderly fashion. If you do not, I’m afraid I will be forced to take drastic measures.”

“I ain’t getting off this damn thing! I demand to be taken back up to the surface!” Another expendable exclaims, smacking the console from which the AI’s voice emanated with a closed fist. There’s the sound of static for a moment, loud enough to cause everyone to flinch and cover their ears in response. That only angers the people still in the submarine, some of them choosing to wreak havoc inside the vessel, stepping over and on top of the bodies of those who had been shot with reckless abandon.

Then, her voice says plainly, “Since you're unable to follow simple instructions, I have been given permission to terminate you. Goodbye.”

Your eyes widen, and you dive to the concrete floor right before the sound of rapid gunfire echoes throughout the facility. There’s no yelling, most of the victims are not even able to comprehend what was happening until it's too late. It lasts only for a few moments before an eerie silence takes the place of a violent symphony.

When you force yourself to rise from your position on the ground, your body is shivering like a leaf. You glance into the submarine, taking in the bloodbath that had occurred. There was so much blood, enough to nearly cover the entire floor of the vessel in a dark pool of crimson. An additional fifteen people lay motionless inside, some of their heads hanging forward, necks limp, and preventing their faces from being seen by your gaze. Others, however, you were able to see their final expressions, heads thrown back, jaws hanging open in silent screams as their lifeless, unfocused eyes stare at nothing in particular. Some of the bullet holes that were littered across their form were smoking.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You hear the man with the stubble mutter, looking at the scene before him with an expression of horror, his brows furrowed as you watch his eyes glaze over with unshed tears.

“Ah… I see the next batch of martyrs has arrived,” You freeze, that familiar voice echoing over the PA system – the voice that had been playing in your head nearly non-stop since you were given another chance at life. You look up at the ceiling, ears honed in to make sure you remembered every aspect of the person’s inflection, wanting to make sure that when you did meet, you would know it.

They continue, that blasé tone apparent as they mock, “Now, let’s see if any of you will keep this entertaining for me. Come on and retrieve your crystal, expendables.”

The PA system goes dead, and then the pre-recorded message reminding everyone of the mission is played. You stand, noticing the way the man with the stubble remains motionless, body curled into himself as he whispers helplessly, “I’m sorry, my sweet girls… daddy’s sorry.”

You could leave him behind – you should leave him behind. You knew it was the smarter decision to make, certain his current state would do nothing to make progression through the facility any easier. You turn your back on him, walking away toward the rest of the group who had lined up, preparing to complete the mission and achieve freedom, but you falter. Your hands ball at your sides, eyes closed as your brows furrow.

Then, you turn on your heel, making your way to the man. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, not used to providing another with such comfort, as you tell him, “…We have to keep moving, or the PDG will detonate. Let’s go, come on.”

He looks up at you, eyes red and cheeks damp with the streaks of tears that were beginning to dry. He allows you to help him to his feet, his body unsteady. He gives you a nod, muttering to you his thanks before you let him go. There’s an awkwardness in the moment after, and you spare him one last glance before you line up behind the others, his footfalls behind yours.

Everything you do following is similar to the first time you walked these halls. Everyone was searching for loose assets and research, scrounging up whatever they could find. Instead of a lantern, you had managed to find a flashlight with no batteries. While it was useless for the time being, it was much lighter and easier to carry than the previous source of light you had found.

Time passes, and you find your muscles tensing up. Your group was already in room 077, and you had yet to run into any monster or entity. It was causing your stomach to twist, waiting for the ball to drop and something horrible to happen. Your eyes dart back and forth, ears honed into any and every sound you heard –the facility creaking, a door opening, water dripping from an unknown pipe – you made sure to listen for it all.

“Paranoid much?” A woman’s voice calls out to you. You stop your search of the desk drawer to glance at who had decided to strike up a conversation, noticing the woman with the bob. Her eyes were cold, glasses pushed up the bridge of her nose as she leered at you. Her expression is sour as she asks with a scoff, “Did I do something to upset you or something? You’ve been giving me that look the entire mission.”

“What look?” You ask, frowning deeply at her statement. You hadn’t spoken a single word to her, this time or the last, and the only contact you two had was the fact that she had once again sat next to you on the submarine.

“You’ve been staring at me this entire time. Feel like I’m being fucking monitored for no reason.” She replies, expression one of disgust at the thought of you watching her. That was something you had noticed yourself doing, though, making sure that you were nowhere near her in the case of another emergency. After all, you didn’t want to relive the experience of someone sabotaging you during a life-or-death situation again so soon.

“…Sorry, just trying to stay on high alert down here.” Your apology is dry and disingenuous, but it seems as though she didn’t want to continue the conversation for longer than necessary. She was smart, deciding not to escalate the situation any further, and leaving you be as she continues forward into the next room.

The man with the stubble, you noticed, had remained close to your side since you helped him to his feet back by the submarine. You would be lying if you said the proximity didn’t make you nervous, wondering if he was planning something or was getting ready to use you as a human shield if it came down to it. While he hadn’t given off the impression, someone’s integrity and values in a situation like this didn’t hold a candle to a person’s will to live, even if at the cost to others.

When you hear a noise in the distance, an unnatural noise that you have yet to hear in the facility, your heart drops into your stomach. Your eyes hone in on the sight of a nearby locker, and you rush over, pausing to check to ensure no eyes are staring back at you from the abyss through the cracks. The man with the stubble looks confused, but he seems to catch on when he finally processes what sounds like chains being dragged across the floor, the noise slowly getting louder with each second.

You hiss, “Go find somewhere to hide – now!”

Without another second or delay, you jump into the locker, hand pressed against your mouth as you wait for the creature to pass. It feels like an eternity passes, nothing happening as you stand motionless inside. The sound is indeed getting louder, but there were no flickering lights, no violent shaking of the room where you stood. Whatever the creature making its way towards your location was, it seemed slower than you remembered. For a moment, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, fueled by paranoia. That couldn’t be right, though... the man with the stubble had heard it, too.

Your eyes catch something faint forming at the bottom of the locker, and you glance down at your feet, eyebrows furrowed as you stare at the dull green smoke that was beginning to fill the space. It smelled almost rotten, a putrid smell of decay filling your nostrils. The unknown gas grows thicker as the sound of chains rattling becomes louder.

Suddenly, you feel as though you can’t breathe, scratching helplessly at your throat. The locker feels too small, too constricting, and you can’t bring yourself to hide anymore. You felt trapped, unable to inhale air into your lungs, and you needed to get out before you suffocated on the gas that was causing your head to spin.

You push open the locker doors, falling to the ground as your body coughs and wretches. Your eyesight was foggy, a thick gas having pooled across the expanse of the room’s floor. There was a jingle of chains, eyes widening when you turned your head towards the noise. There, you see a structureless creature by your side. Its eyes were sunken and hollow, its void-like mouth agape as the green gas spewed past its lips.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you blink. When your eyes open once more, you’re suddenly not in the facility anymore. You glance up, taking in the blackness of the endless void that surrounds this peculiar area, not a single star or spec of light in the sky above you. The ground beneath your feet was cracked and dry, the dirt marbled with a strange green glow that filled the grooves. All around you was a sea of emerald-colored liquid, the glow from the water reminding you of nuclear radiation. You were stuck, trapped on the small island you found yourself transported to.

There were bones, fossils of creatures that had perished, sticking out of the water. Carefully, you begin to walk, an unknown force encouraging you forward. There is a chorus of disembodied whispers all around you, the words they’re speaking unrecognizable to your ears. Was it another language, perhaps?

When you see the large box, the lid of it is slightly ajar, allowing for the green smoke emanating from it to leak out, yet you don’t think much of it. There was a part of you that wanted to run away, to get as far from it as you could, but another part of you wanted to get closer, to be able to touch it – experience it. Your legs move your body automatically forward, hand reaching out just as the box opens. Your heart stops beating in a split second, the feeling of your lungs imploding, hurting for only a moment before everything goes black…

Your eyes fly back open violently as a gasp is ripped from your throat, body lurching forward to cough into your fist. Your eyes are glazed over with tears that eventually spill past your lashes, your body desperately attempting to breathe in the clean air of the dim office space. Your hand grasps helplessly at the desk, body hunched over as you hack and choke on nothing.

There’s a groan, the sound of someone who was clearly annoyed with the noises you were making, “My… It seems as though you’re having some trouble keeping yourself alive. How sad for you.”

You can’t help but glare at the three-eyed figure, your attitude seemingly amusing to them if the low chuckle was anything to go by. They muse aloud, the sound of papers being turned filling the space alongside their voice, “You died to this? Seriously?”

They toss the open file in front of you, saying, “It’s not that hard to work around these guys, you know... Maybe you should try hiding from the big, bad monster next time, yeah?” They pause before squinting slightly, muttering to themselves absentmindedly, “Green smoke, hmm…? Now, where have I seen that before?”

You wanted to yell at them, tell them you did hide, but attempting to protect your pride wouldn’t help anyone or solve anything. You look over the file, The Angler, and highlighted in green was a note regarding one of the three variants of this particular entity – The Chainsmoker… That explained why each encounter you had with the creature was different, then. It was because there was more than one type of this monster within the facility.

After wiping the saliva and mucus that had leaked from your face on the back of your jumpsuit’s sleeve, you glance up at the figure and ask, “I want to know your name, especially if I’m going to be seeing you every time I die now.”

They scoff at your words, reminding you as they reach forward and close the file, grabbing it once more before it disappears back in the darkness, “I told you to try and live longer this time around so we could have a proper introduction, but it seem as though what I said went through one ear and out the other. Maybe this time you’ll do a better job at following instructions…” They pause and give you a wave, a faux-chipper tone as they speak, “Goodbye now.”

“Wait—!” You call out, but your chair is unceremoniously tipped back by something large that slithered near your feet, and you once again fall into the abyss, losing consciousness sometime in your descent.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Your vision comes back quicker than before. When you smell the scent of tobacco burning, this time around, you immediately drop it to the ground and crush it harshly beneath the sole of your boot, coughing into your hand. That was genuinely the last thing you wanted right now, and you never would have imagined yourself saying that about a perfectly fine cigarette. Maybe this really was a way to make you repent for your sins and alter your vices, as fucked up as it all was.

You scowl at the crushed cig underneath your foot, an unsavory expression on your face. However you looked in the moment caused someone to chuckle, forcing your attention to divert to the man with the stubble as he says with a hearty laugh, “Damn, kid, I thought you liked those things! You were pretty adamant about being able to smoke one more time before we headed down.”

“Guess I just… wanted to make a last-minute lifestyle change.” You reply, standing up and brushing off your jumpsuit. It felt almost constricting, making you think back to how you felt trapped inside that locker, crammed inside as that thick smoke filled your lungs, and—… You shake your head, glancing at the man as you ask, “Are we starting the descent soon?”

“Oh, uh… yeah. Wanted to come over and get you, you know. Just wanted to make sure you were prepared, kid.” He says with a smile, rubbing the back of his head, his hair starting to thin near the crown.

A hum leaves your lips and you begin walking over to where the submarine was docked, feeling different than the last time you came back. Things didn’t play out the same this time as your first death, and the man following behind you hadn’t died. What if this was the reason you were coming back? Maybe you were supposed to help these people – save them. You wanted to try… maybe, it would save you, too.

Glancing over your shoulder, you ask the man, “Why do you keep calling me kid? I’m an adult, you know.”

“Ah, well, you’re still young, so you’re a kid in my eyes.” He replies with a chuckle, saying lightheartedly, “I’m an old bastard, so everyone who’s younger than me is a kid. It’s the rules… When you’re older, you might feel the same way.”

You want to tell him you probably wouldn’t get to grow older, but you don’t. The moment was nice, light, a strange sense of normalcy before everything eventually went horribly wrong in one way or another. Soon, you and the man with the stubble are lined up, but the guard is nowhere to be seen yet. Perhaps you had gotten here early, having decided against finishing your cigarette this time, or cycle, or run… You weren’t sure what you wanted to call all of this yet.

The man was standing next to your right, as he habitually seemed to do, and you decided to ask him, wondering if you would regret it in the future, “I didn’t catch your name before, on the ship.”

He looks surprised you asked, but smiles brightly and answers with a chipper, “M’ name’s Charles, but my friends just call me Chuck.” He holds his hand out and you tentatively take it in yours, his calloused palm pressed against yours as he moves his arm up and down. You tell him your name in return, the smile on his face growing wider as he says, “Nice to make your acquaintance, kid! It’s always good to have a friendly face around.”

“Likewise.” You respond with a nod, your peripheral vision catching the movement of someone dressed in black. The guard had come over, and they went through everything they needed to remind you of before you would be sent to the blacksite. You don’t listen too intently, having heard the same speech three separate times now. There’s the popping of someone’s head, just as scheduled.

...You felt horrible thinking about it in such a way, but now, you had an idea. Things were different last time – sure, you still had died, but not in the same way. You were going to try something, and you wanted to take this power that was seemingly thrust upon you to try and do something good for once in your life.

Everyone forms a single-file line and marches into the submarine, taking their seats. The woman with the bob who sits on your left pays you little mind, arms crossed over her chest. The man with the stubble, who you now know to be named Chuck, sits on your right like usual, still pale but not as anxious as he typically was the past few times. The irate man, still, to his namesake, looked as though he was holding back a rage that could explode any second, and the silver-haired woman was sobbing quietly in her seat farthest from the entrance.

This time, when she stood up and began pacing, you rose from your seat as well, attempting to keep your voice calm and gentle even when it broke slightly, the memories of the frail woman’s demise playing in the back of your mind, “Hey, deep breaths, okay? We’ll be at the site in no time.”

“N-No, no… I want to leave, I can’t do this,” She mutters to you, reaching out and grabbing hold of your arms, her long nails digging into the fat of your shoulders, “I need you to get me out of here, please! Please, help me!”

You falter, sweat forming on your brow. You were trying to do that, trying to help her. You couldn’t get her out of here, that was something that wasn’t possible… You couldn’t even escape yourself.

When she begins to hyperventilate, you feel panic swell in your chest. You knew what would happen next, so you grabbed her wrists with enough force to cause her to cry out, holding them down firmly at her sides. You couldn’t let her try to remove the device strapped to her back. The irate man lets out an annoyed sound behind you, standing up and making his way over to where you and the silver-haired woman stood.

“Jesus Christ, you fucking dipshit – do you not know how to shut people up?” He asks you with a sneer, grabbing the old woman by the front of her jumpsuit, clenched fist reeling back before rushing forward, hitting her square in the face. You watch in horror as she crumples to the ground bonelessly, her nose a bloody mess as it trickles down her cracked lips. She was unconscious, but at least she was still alive, breathing faintly.

You move solely on emotion, a disgusting, bitter taste filling your mouth as you glare at the irate man. Maybe it was the stress of everything having finally gotten to you, but you threw your own punch, hitting him on the corner of his jaw. Everything is silent before he looks at you, eyes wide, and you can see the red veins highlighted in the white sclera, his forehead throbbing with rushing blood. A cold sweat forms across your skin at the sight.

He punches back, hitting the side of your skull with enough force that it has your brain rattling inside. When you stumble back, your hand rising to press against where he had most certainly caused damage, he thrusts his knee upwards and lands a direct hit to your stomach. You automatically vomit, the sudden pain causing your body to factory reset as your vision blurs. You refuse to go down like this, though, muscle memory kicking in as you lunge at him, knocking him to the ground as your fingernails claw at the exposed skin of his face.

Your mind blanks after that, not remembering much of the fight. You don’t remember what he did to you, and you don’t remember what you did to him. All you remember was that beeping, and the searing sensation as a bullet spirals its way through the flesh of your neck, splattering your blood across the other expendables within the submarine.

When your vision returns to you, your head is pounding, and the light feels too bright. You let out a groan, covering your eyes with your hands as you lean forward, hunched over the desk, while your arms support the weight of your skull. You swallow a few times in an attempt to ease the dryness in your mouth, but you find the task a difficult one to do, your throat feeling tight.

“…They really just send anyone down here, huh?” The voice calls out to you, asking in an exasperated tone, “How the hell did you die to the PDG before even arriving?”

“I—…” You start, but your voice cracks, making you pause to cough into your fist, “I… I tried helping a woman, but it… backfired.”

You watch as those three blue eyes stare down at you, and you’re certain they’re skeptical of your words, a single brow raised in question. The file for the Prisoner Diving Gear slides across the table and stops in front of you. Glancing briefly over the paper, your eyes having a difficult time comprehending the words, you realize most of the information wasn’t new to you – the guard had mentioned nearly all of this before sending everyone down.

“Indeed, it did… backfire, I mean.” They tell you with a cruel chuckle, and you frown at their words. You didn’t see the need for them to mock your death, but this person seemed to get a sadistic kick out of doing so. They take the file away from you, and you take a moment to observe their digits when they briefly enter the light – they're large, sharp, and this time, you notice scales littered across the back of their hand, shimmering in the light.

They hum and tell you, reaching across the desk as they press a finger to your forehead, pushing you back with enough force for the chair you’re sitting on to tip, “Try not to play hero next time, moron. After all, I thought you were oh-so interested in being able to meet me.”

As you fall back into the abyss, your vision blurring at the edges, their voice echoes down to you, “I certainly hope, if we eventually meet, you’ll have learned how to listen.”

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

When your mind catches up and registers where you were again, you’re filled with a vigor you hadn’t felt in many years. Perhaps the three-eyed person was right; maybe you truly didn’t know how to listen, but you weren’t going to sit by and do nothing when you had the chance to do something. You stand up before Chuck can come and get you, tossing your cigarette to the ground after putting it out on the concrete block. This time, you were going to grab fate by the horns.

Chapter Text

You knew that things could be different; you just had to go about it another way. That was fine, you thought. You could be flexible, adaptable, and work with what you were given... You would figure out a way to use your newfound abilities to help those around you, to be a better person than you had been in the past. You had a chance to be able to prove yourself, show the world that your survival wasn’t a mistake or lucky accident – that there was a reason you persevered while they didn’t. 

Lost in thought, you didn’t even realize you had found all of your attention focused on the goings-on of your mind, walking with a purpose to the submarine instead of feeling as though you were marching directly to death’s door. At least, until you suddenly crash into someone on accident, shoulder hitting against theirs with a decent amount of force. Their hands immediately fly to hold onto your shoulders to ensure you don’t fall, and you nearly push them off until you realize who it was.

When you look up, eyes wide as you realize your careless mistake, you’re relieved to see sparkling green staring back at you. A sigh habitually escapes your lips, thankful it was him, of all people, you had run into and not someone more likely to kill you for the audacity of bumping into them.

“Geez, kid, never seen you that spaced out before!” He says with a guffaw, and you cringe ever so slightly at the volume of his voice, head still pounding with a lingering headache. You get ready to thank him, but then you falter for a moment.

This him, the one currently in front of you, wasn’t entirely the same version of Chuck you had known before. After all, this version of him hasn’t told you his name yet. You try to rack your brain, attempting to recall if he had mentioned it at any time throughout your stay at the facility, but you come up with nothing. That wasn’t a surprise, though, considering all you’ve been forced to endure so far.

When you don’t reply, staring at him unblinking, his brows furrow. He allows his hands to slide away from your form, now knowing you were stable and weren’t going to topple over anytime soon. He asks, waving his open palm in front of your face, “Hey, uh… kid? You still with us?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was just… thinking.” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest, one hand rubbing your shoulder slightly from where he had touched you. You hadn’t been a fan of physical touch for many years now, but he didn’t make your skin crawl or your heart race.

He had a calming kind of touch, something that made sense considering he was a father. You remember the way he cried out to his children, knowing he was bound to perish, but you hastily attempt to push those emotions down. This was a new run, and you were going to do things differently. 

“Careful, now, don’t want you overheating from too much of that,” He says jokingly, his body language mirroring yours as his arms almost unconsciously fold in front of him. When you ask him his name, he replies happily, “Oh, name’s Charles, but most people call me Chuck! I just wanted to come and get you – apparently, we’ll be heading down soon. Didn’t want you being caught off guard with the PA announcement.”

You introduce yourself, and this time, you make the first move for a handshake when you hold your hand out in front of your body, waiting. He looks at your open palm for a moment before smiling widely, giving it a firm shake before releasing his hold. It was nice having someone who hadn’t done anything to either harm another person or purposefully throw someone under the bus. An ally was exactly the thing you needed here.

You glance over at the submarine that the two of you would soon be getting on, and you begin to determine a game plan in the back of your mind. It takes a few seconds, and then it hits you, an idea springing to life in your brain. You could practically imagine the light bulb manifesting above your head in that very moment.

Chuck is a relatively friendly person, from what you’ve managed to gather. His mental fortitude isn’t very strong, but it’s also not nearly as non-existent as some of the others in your group of fifty. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to recruit him to help you.

You highly doubted that he would believe you if you told him the whole story. After all, if someone had told you they were able to come back to life over and over because of some kind of time loop, you would have thought they were crazy. Though this time, you could make a change. You could have him as backup, someone to aid you to ensure that what happened last time doesn’t happen again.

“Chuck, I know we just properly met, but… could I ask for a favor?” You inquire, moving your gaze away from the submarine floating on the surface of the ocean’s cold waters, and it makes you miss the feeling of warm sea waves lapping against your ankles.

There’s a pause, a moment of hesitation in his eyes while his shoulders tense ever so slightly. After contemplating what to say, he eventually replies, “I mean… it depends on what the favor is. I won’t do anything violent.”

“No, no… I’m looking for the opposite, actually.” You tell him truthfully, something that seemed to catch him off guard. You continue, your voice a dull whisper in the somewhat loud area of the lobby, other people’s conversations echoing throughout the metal walls of the facility, “I might need your help. We have some… colorful people in our group, and I may need some assistance regarding de-escalation. Would that be something you could do?”

“De-escalation, eh?” He muses out loud, hand reaching up to stroke the stubble growing on his face, “I’ve got some experience in it, I guess… lot of close-calls where people were getting pissy during my drug runs, but I was usually able to stop them before any weapons were drawn.”

“I have a feeling that’s exactly what we’ll need.” You tell him with a nod. It was obvious from the look in his eyes that he was skeptical, probably wondering why you were immediately jumping to the conclusion that there would be a conflict on the submarine, but when you both could hear the irate man already yelling from this far away, he gave you a smile and a thumbs-up in response.

The two of you make your way to the group forming at the mouth of the submarine, the doors open and ready. You have to wait until the guard goes through his speech, something that remained relatively consistent throughout your attempts. There’s the loud pop in the distance as the demise of another reverberates through the facility, and then everyone loads inside the vessel as if nothing had happened, the submarine swaying with the push and pull of the tides.

The woman with the bob was sitting on your left, and Chuck was sitting to your right, as they both usually did. While it was apparent to you that some things changed, it seemed as though some things also stayed the same. The seats were still just as cold and uncomfortable as they had been the past few times, unfortunately.

You glance over at the woman, her hollow eyes staring forward at nothing in particular. Then, they flick to you, and you realize you were just caught eyeing her up. She scowls down at you, arms crossed over her chest as she practically interrogates you, “What the hell are you looking at, freak?”

“You.” Your reply is simple, straightforward, and it seems to catch her off guard if the slight way she flinches backwards is anything to go by. Then, you turn your body to face her fully, stating as earnestly as you could muster in an attempt to put what she had done in your previous run behind you, “I just wanted to introduce myself, that's all, especially since we’ll be working together for the mission.”

She scoffs at your answer, turning away while she rolls her eyes, “No need for that shit. This mission doesn’t require us to get personal with one another.”

Despite wanting to make a back-handed comment, you refrain from running your mouth. There would be a fight that would be breaking out soon, one that has led to the death of over a dozen people before, and you weren’t going to allow that to happen again. You didn’t want anyone to die, and you didn’t want anyone else to continue with the mission after witnessing and experiencing such a traumatic event.

Then, nearly right on time, the silver-haired woman stands up from where she had been sitting, pacing back and forth as her trembling hands grab and tug at her stringy locks. You turn to look at Chuck, who had been staring at the woman since the doors to the submarine closed, having a feeling his assistance would be needed soon. Though when you hear the irate man yell, you jolt – it was too soon for him to jump into the fray, wasn’t it?

You give Chuck a nod and stand up, making your way to the silver-haired woman while your partner goes to attempt to placate the irate man, which, after the last time you ran into him, was something you were grateful for. You had no intention of dying in such a manner again if you could help it, especially when the voice of that three-eyed figure echoes in your mind – “…They really just send anyone down here, huh? How the hell did you die to the PDG before even arriving?” – what a jackass.

You see Chuck place himself between the irate man and the silver-haired woman, a bright smile on his face as he begins conversing with the other man as if nothing was happening. It was almost impressive, in a way, the fact that he could put on such a chipper and friendly attitude in a situation like this. Though, considering his line of… work, it made sense. He had to be good at reading a room when dealing with people and drugs.

While the irate man was preoccupied, you focused all of your attention on the silver-haired woman who was now crouching on the floor, head in her hands as she muttered prayers under her breath. Carefully, you kneel beside her, acting as though you were attempting to tame a feral cat. Any sudden movements you made could potentially make or break the relationship you were attempting to build with her.

Softly, you speak to her, the tone of your voice sounding foreign to your ears, “Excuse me, ma’am, but… I didn’t catch your name.”

Her breath hitches, and her head flies up to look at you, eyes blown wide and incredibly red as an endless stream of tears cascades down her cheeks. Your breathing stops when you look into her eyes, flashes of the way her head looked like after–... No, not now, not when you could change that outcome. Instead, you give her a patient smile, waiting for her to reply.

It takes a while, and you can still hear the irate man in the background, but she eventually replies with a meek, “E-Elanor… that’s my name.”

“What a lovely name,” You respond, the smile on your face becoming a little warmer. It was hard to force it, but you did your best to make it as genuine as you could, given the current situation. It appeared as though, however you looked in the moment, was helping put the woman at ease. Her breathing was beginning to steady, and her hands that had been pulling at her hair were now resting in her lap.

“What’s your name, dear?” She asks you, the sound of her voice barely audible amongst the other noises of the submarine as it descends further and further into the trench. When you reply, giving her your name, her eyes brighten up ever so slightly before she tells you, “Ah, that’s one of my grandchildren’s names… what a coincidence.”

You glance briefly over your shoulder, taking in the expression of the irate man as Chuck continues to stand between you and him. He wasn’t scowling anymore, it seemed, his lips no longer pulled back to bare his teeth at the world like a rabid dog. Chuck gives a hearty laugh, patting the man on the shoulder, who eventually relaxes the muscles in his face, deciding to sit back down on the bench where he had been. Everyone was giving him a wide berth, clearly afraid to set him off again, but it worked – Chuck was able to stop him from coming over.

Focusing your attention back on the silver-haired woman, who was named Elanor, you decided to have her focus on anything but the current situation. She talked about her grandchildren, how she had a vegetable garden before everything that happened, and how her husband had passed away a few years ago. Whatever she wanted to talk about, you gave her the space to do so – anything to keep her calm, and to keep her hands away from the PDG resting on her back.

The floor was uncomfortable, and your knees were hurting even with the padding, but it was worth it. There were no dead bodies by the time the submarine docked, no blood splatter or unnecessary casualties littering every space in the vessel. The submarine stops moving, and the doors open as the NAVI AI voice calls out, "The submarine has arrived. Please stand at a minimum of 5 studs away from the hatch until it's fully opened. Please exit the submarine in a calm and orderly fashion."

You stand first, joints popping when you do, and you extend a hand as you help Elanor to her feet. She places her withering fingers in your palm, accepting your assistance with a warm smile. When you glance at Chuck, he gives you a grin and a thumbs-up. For the first time, everyone steps out of the submarine calmly. No one was dead, crying, or throwing up everything they had in their stomach. All 50 EXR-Ps had made it in one piece to the blacksite. You succeeded in what you wanted to achieve.

“Eat that, you jackass,” You think to yourself, feeling a swell of pride in your chest. You hoped you would be able to meet that three-eyed figure soon to tell them of your success.

You’re fully expecting to hear their voice over the intercoms again, but you don’t. It was strange, you thought, especially since they seemed to enjoy announcing their presence in an attempt to cause everyone in the party to become more panicked. The only thing to play over the PA system this time was the usual pre-recorded message reminding everyone of their primary objective to secure the crystal, and that was it. Then, just like that, all 50 expendables begin to make their way through the facility, room by room, for the first time.

Elanor and Chuck, you noticed, stay relatively close to your side. It made sense, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help the sense of unease growing inside of you at the presence of someone near. It had been a long time – so long without experiencing the touches or presence of another that didn’t hurt – that the thought alone of anyone being too close made your hair stand on end.

You hear someone shuffle, making their way to stand side-by-side, and your eyes dart to see who it was. Chuck’s smiling face comes into view, and the tension in your shoulders disappears slowly when he says in a whisper, “That was a good call back there, kid… We made a good team, huh? I’ll deal with the angry-emotional people, and you can deal with the sad-emotional people.”

A small smile forms on your lips as you reply with, “Thanks, Chuck. I just… had a feeling it would happen. I’m glad we were able to avoid a crisis.”

He visibly brightens at your words, a genuine look of happiness flashing across his face. It was nothing like any expression he had made before, and certainly a far cry from the hopeless and empty look he wore when…

Chuck had died, and he didn’t even know it. So had Elanor, forever unaware of the fact that she was a catalyst for the death of so many other expendables, her execution causing havoc to spread across all who were in the submarine. You remember vividly the feeling of her blood dripping down the apple of your cheek, the sound of Chuck’s cries as he begs to see his daughters one more time.

Your body tenses at the memories, jaw clenched tightly as you halfheartedly bend down to search through a drawer, the two allies you had managed to make not far away. You watch as your hands tremble slightly, combing through the files as you bite down on your tongue. You didn’t want to think about what had happened anymore, wanting to focus solely on the present – to make sure they didn’t die, and to do everything in your power to ensure the same loop didn’t keep happening over and over again.

Then, you hear the sound of a door sliding open, the people in the front of the group continuing forward to the next room, only for an unfamiliar voice to chime in, “Hey! Check out what I’ve got!”

The deafening sound of gunfire echoes through the facility, causing you to flinch and quickly cover your ears when you hear Eleanor scream somewhere to your right. Your head whips around, but she was hunkered near a cabinet, hiding behind cover and trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm. Chuck was safe, too, eyes wide in horror as he stared at the scene beyond you from his position on the floor.

You hear the irate man call out curses, loud thuds quickly following his words. Time seemed to almost slow as you turned around, your head moving bit by bit, almost like it had been rusted in place. Beyond the door were bodies, at least two dozen, lying motionless on the floor of the next room. Navy blue jumpsuits became stained purple as bright, red blood oozed from the bullet holes that adorned their unprotected flesh.

On the other side of the room, it looked as though some of your group had made it across safely, their faces painted with specks of scarlet freckles. It seemed as though some of them had been shot, too, a few expendables making makeshift tourniquets and bandages from the materials of their suits. The irate man looks across the room with a scowl, scarred-up face scrunched as he calls out, “There’s fuckin’ turrets in this room, so pay attention and move quick!”

“You think they can outrun my bullets? Hah! I’d like to see them try.” The disembodied voice calls out, sounding almost smug at the fact that it knew most of you couldn’t move faster than it could fire.

“T… Turrets? Why the hell are those shooting at us?” Chuck asks to no one in particular, standing up from where he had been crouching, running a hand down his face as blood begins to flood the floor, some of it even seeping into the room you were still in.

Then, there’s a chirp, a high-pitched noise to notify everyone in the group as the familiar voice of NAVI declares, unintentionally answering Chuck’s question, “Warning: my systems have been compromised due to a parasite that is preventing me from disabling the Internal Defense System. Stay alert and be aware of your surroundings when entering new areas.”

There’s a brief pause before she continues, “To ensure you do not become quickly exposed of, take cover behind an object and move when the turrets reload – if another expendable can find and disable the nearest breaker box, all gunfire will cease until the power is restored.”

You watch as the irate man’s face sours further, grabbing a nearby object and chucking it at the turret, the red light attached to it scanning the room for another target as he exclaims, “Way to fuckin’ wait to tell us that, you stupid bitch! Can’t rely on anything related to Urbanshade in this hellhole!”

“Hey! Watch it!” That unknown voice calls out, a slight digital static to its voice, when the item the man threw smacks against the side of the ceiling-mounted turret. Was that the parasite NAVI had mentioned? Did another AI hack into the one that was designed to protect the Hadal Blacksite?

NAVI does not reply to the man’s harsh words, leaving everyone in silence once more. The irate man very clearly had a few choice words for the mocking voice of this new enemy, but refrained from speaking. So, not only did you have to worry about the entities roaming the facility, but now you also had to be aware of the facility itself coming alive to kill you and the rest of your party.

Your head was pounding, and you could hear a dull ringing in your ears. When the sound of sobbing cuts through the haze, your eyes dart to Elanor, who hasn’t moved from the floor, curled up into a ball as she cries helplessly.

Swallowing thickly, you make your way to the door, your hand holds onto the metallic frame while the tip of your boot presses into the expanding pool of blood. When you move your foot back, not wanting to stand in the thick liquid, the red smears across the flooring. You stare blankly down at your feet, quickly looking away when you notice your reflection staring back at you, everything colored that dark shade of crimson that made your stomach swirl.

In the room were two turrets, stationed on each side of the room on the ceiling as they scanned back and forth in an attempt to locate another expendable to gun down. Squinting across the way, you notice the breaker box NAVI had mentioned, and you wonder if you would be able to make it without being turned into a slice of Swiss. Considering the lack of cover, though, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that question.

“Good luck to you, but we’re going to continue forward.” Your head darts up, expression tightening when you see the woman with the bob standing there, arms crossed over her chest. When her eyes meet yours, she states plainly, “Hey now, don’t give me that look. There’s no reason for us to stay here and take up valuable cover, right?”

Then, with a wave, she turns on her heel and walks away, the rest of the survivors of the initial gunfire leaving you and everyone else behind. Your heart drops, and your hands feel clammy. Just like that, you were responsible for the lives of those in the room alongside you. Your body jumps when a hand falls on your shoulder, and you turn to look at Chuck, his skin pale and sickly as he whispers, “The… old lady isn’t doing too well.”

When you look at Elanor, she is sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth as her hands furl tightly into her silver hair. The other expendables were currently arguing, yelling at one another to see who would be the one to make the first move. The path to the other side, to safety, was now littered with lifeless bodies. If you tried running, you ran the risk of slipping on blood or tripping over corpses. If you attempted to turn off the breaker box, the one without any cover, there was a chance you would be shot before even reaching it.

“We… have to move quickly. There are a few places to take cover, but we can’t all go at once.” You whisper to Chuck, pointing to the safe spots you had managed to identify, glancing between him and the rest of the group. His throat bobs when he swallows, his sweaty palms running down the fabric of his jumpsuit in an attempt to dry them off.

He nods in reply, muttering, “You’re right, but… but I don’t think some of these folks are quick enough on their feet to make it.”

It felt hopeless, knowing that some of the people with you simply didn’t have the physical capabilities to make it to safety in time. You would try, though, that was something you were sure of. Carefully, you make your way over to Elanor, bending down to be on her level as you whisper, “Miss Elanor? We have to keep moving.”

“I… I can’t do it,” She murmurs, raising her head as the tears fall down her cheeks, wetting the wrinkled skin of her face. Your brows furrowed at her words, knowing that she was most likely right, but you didn’t want it to end here – not like this.

“I can help you, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get across.” You pause before adding, “You told me you wanted to see your grandchildren again, didn’t you? I want to make sure you can, so please, let me try to.”

Another forced smile, another attempt to look hopeful in a situation that had practically sucked all of it out of you. She falters for a moment before nodding, taking your hand as she stands, body nearly collapsing from the stress. You hold onto her with all your strength, helping the woman to stay upright, not wanting her to fall and potentially harm herself before the hard part even starts.

While you had been tending to her, Chuck had gathered the rest of those left behind to get ready to run. You had a plan, and if everything went according to it, then all of you would be able to make it to the other side with little to no physical injuries.

However, before you could even get the chance to speak, you watch as one of the expendables grabs another by the fabric of their jumpsuit, throwing them out into the line of fire. You watch wordlessly as the person thrown screams before the sound is quickly cut off, their body jolting with every single shot of the rapid gunfire, their blood splattering across the room like mist. The inmate who had thrown them makes a run for it while the turrets reload, successfully making it to a hiding spot, and continuing forward without ever looking back.

It was a horrific scene, people fighting to see who would act as a distraction so that the others could make it across. Your hold on Elanor was tight, making sure that no one would rip her from your grasp. Chuck stood in front of both of you, shielding the two of you from becoming cannon fodder, hands balled into fists as he prepared to fight. Something that should have been simple, that could have resulted in fewer deaths, didn’t happen, and the plan you had come up with was for nothing.

Now, only the three of you remained, completely frozen in place as you mentally prepared to make it across. You had been abandoned once again – an old woman, a man with an uneven gait, and an unremarkable expendable left behind to fend for themselves.

More blood and bodies littered the floor, so this already difficult task was going to be even harder for the rest of you. Chuck lets out a shaky exhale, muttering, “Why did we end up here, of all places…? It’s a far too harsh punishment for us, don’t you think?”

It didn’t matter what you thought about what was happening. You held your tongue; any choice words you had towards the universe at the situation you ended up in could be saved for later. You needed to move, and you needed to do so quickly. You turn to look at him and order, “You go first – I’ll stay back to help her across.”

“Kid, listen, we need to–…” He starts, but whatever expression on your face quickly shuts him up, his jaw clicking closed when his teeth clack together. There was another deep breath, another sigh, a quick stretch, and a simple prayer whispered under his breath as he prepared to run across the room that reeked of death.

Then, he darts off, his gait not slowing him down, just as he assured everyone it wouldn’t. You watch with a belated breath as he nearly slips in the large pool of blood, foot rocketing forward in the scarlet liquid as he loses his balance. His hand flies down to provide stability, his body bouncing off the floor when his palm, now painted red, smears across the ground. He ducks his head, hissing out a curse, before managing to slide behind cover right when the turrets began to shoot.

There’s a long stretch of silence after, a silence that had your mind racing with what had happened, when you hear his shaky voice call out, “M-Made it! Not a single bullet in me, either!”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief, but then you remembered you still had to make it across, with someone else relying on you to keep them alive, too. If this was how you died this time around, you suppose you couldn’t be upset about such an outcome. You would die knowing you did everything you could to help someone else, and that was something you could be proud of.

“Are you ready?” You turn, asking Elanor as the old woman gives you a weak nod, the look on her face one of pure fear.

With a shaky breath, you wait for the perfect moment to run, the woman’s frail hand tightly holding onto your own. When the red lights of the turrets dim as they begin to reload, you knew it was now or never. Then, you take off.

You run as fast as you can, memories of your feet smacking against the warm sand of the beach playing in your mind. If you imagined it as a playful race instead of a sprint that resulted in either your continued life or untimely death, the weight of the situation felt lighter. Your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, mind in another world, as you moved across the floor at a speed you didn’t know you were capable of.

That mocking voice calls out to you, sounding delighted as they exclaim, “Better hope you're bulletproof, buddy!"

Your eyes fly back open when you stumble, eyes darting to a screen on the wall, a crudely drawn face on a white background staring back at you. The sound of the turrets clicking echoes loudly in your ears, and you see the red lights aiming at your head. You needed to move quicker, run faster. You couldn’t die here, not yet—!

The hand you had been holding slides out of your grasp, leaving you clutching nothing but thin air. Your head turns, eyes wide as you stare over your shoulder, watching as Elanor weightlessly falls to the ground, hitting against the flooring with a sickening thud. Then, she looks up, her wide and teary eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. It looks as though she wants to tell you something, her chapped lips parting, but no words come out.

Despite yourself, your body kept moving even when the red lights moved their focus from you to her – a sitting duck, an easy target. You couldn’t bring yourself to watch her death again, turning to face ahead while the sound of gunfire once more reverberates through the facility. Your vision blurs, and your head feels heavy. Despite the exhaustion, your legs keep moving, and your adrenaline is pumping, desperate to keep you alive.

Chuck’s familiar visage comes into view, hand outstretched as he grabs you and yanks you into safety. As soon as you're behind cover, your legs immediately give out as you collapse. The sound of your sobs is foreign to your ears, wailing loudly as his hand rubs up and down your spine.

Everything that happens next is hazy in your mind. You remember feeling Chuck’s arm wrapping around your form, your own resting behind his neck as he carries you forward, your body completely boneless in his hold. You didn’t resist, allowing him to do what he saw fit. You could remember hearing his voice, but it was muffled in your ears, a dull ringing taking up most of your attention.

There was a pause, Chuck’s movement stopping on a dime when the sound of something large echoed through the area you found yourself in. It sounded almost like the engine of a jet resounding through the open room. Generators littered the area, all lit up green. Whatever it was, flying above the room with searchlights shining down at you like a stage, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be good if it managed to catch you within its sights.

Everything was dark; the only things illuminating the space were artificial lights that emanated from the many pieces of technology within the area. There were a few close calls, moments where Chuck lost his balance or the blood still on the soles of his shoes negated any traction they had, but he always managed to regain it just at the last moment, carrying you all the while. He was far stronger than he looked, expertly weaving and dodging through the room, crouching underneath stairs and stacked crates when the lights got a bit too close for comfort.

There’s a nervous chuckle coming from him as he muses aloud, not expecting a reply, “I’m not too shabby at sneaking around… I have a lot of practice under my belt when it comes to this kind of thing.”

You knew you were dead weight, completely useless in your current state. No matter how many times you muttered to him that he could leave you behind, voice devoid of any emotion, he never once did Chuck entertain the idea. He just held you tighter, dragging you along with a simple, “No can do, kid. Sorry about your luck, but you’re stuck with me from here on out.”

The rest of your fleet must have already come through here, the large set of doors in the distance wide open. Deciding the current way of holding you wasn’t doing much, he places you on his back, standing up as he hobbles his way to the door as quickly as he could muster when the coast was deemed clear. Once inside, safe from the searching spotlights of the machine, he sets you down, allowing for a moment to recuperate before continuing onward.

The rest of the journey was clouded in your mind, the expression on Elanor’s face taking front and center as it practically haunts you. All the doors were open; no need to find a passcode or keycard for the ones that required them. It seemed as though you and Chuck were slowly catching up to the group that had left you to fend for yourselves.

Your brain and other senses start to come back when you hear the sound of chatter in the distance, your head finally rising so you aren’t blankly staring at the ground as it passes by. You hear the grating voice of the irate man before you see him, loud and upset, as he usually was.

Chuck guides your body, his grip on you never once faltering, before making a turn, the remainder of your party coming into view. Only five others were standing there in the fluorescent-lit hallways. You didn’t want to think too deeply about what happened to the rest.

The woman with the bob is the first to notice your arrival, always on high alert, when she says apathetically, fiddling with the keycard between her fingers, “Oh – you survived. Congrats.”

Just like that, any numbness in your body ignites into a blazing inferno, her words kindling the fire inside of you and urging you forward. You push yourself off of Chuck, who grunts at the sudden movement, rushing over to her as your hand flies out, fist balling into the collar of her jumpsuit. You lift her off the ground with a strength that surprises everyone, your other hand curling into itself, nails digging into your palm, before you reel it back. Her eyes widen when she realizes you were prepared to make contact with her face when, suddenly, the hall begins to shake.

It was a violent tremor, one that had all expendables losing their balance, even you. You quickly release your hold on the woman in an attempt to regain your balance, but you're caught off guard when your body harshly collides with the floor when she roughly pushes you. The keycard that was in her hands fell to the ground with a flourish, clattering before landing a few feet from where you were. Your tailbone screams out in pain at the sudden pressure, having landed directly on it when you were shoved back. 

Your head flies up to look at the bobbed-haired woman, fully prepared to protect yourself if need be, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Instead of being jumped on and beaten by the woman, however, she was looking at something in the distance behind you, eyes wide and terrified.

When the lights start to flicker, you know what's coming next. Your head turns, scanning the area quickly; there seemed to be only a few lockers available in this room, but you didn’t have time to backtrack. You call out to Chuck, voice cracking with urgency, “Inside! Get inside!”

He jumps at the sound of your voice but quickly does as you say, throwing open the doors with reckless abandon before rushing inside and closing them behind him. You scurry to your feet, reaching out to grab the keycard when a boot harshly comes down on your knuckles, the sound of your bones cracking loud in your ears as you yelp at the pain that floods through your system.

“Die, you fucking bastard.” The woman with the bob hisses in your face, hastily grabbing the card before bolting to the end of the hall toward the next door. You quickly stand up, following close behind, trying not to slip on the blood that still coated the bottom of your shoes.

You’re close, so close, your hand reaching out in an attempt to stop her. Then, the door opens without the need to scan the key, and you falter, arm falling back to your side as you pull back. There’s something inside, shrouded in darkness, a mass of exposed flesh and muscle that pulsates like a beating heart. It was breathing, whatever it was, the sound raspy and labored. Then, its head snaps up, a dirtied mask with hollow eyes staring back at you, and a toothy, human-like grin plastered on its face.

It moves with an incredible amount of speed, surprising considering its size. The smile that it wore causes a shiver to run down your spine and your heart to stop, your body flinching back on instinct. Its three-clawed hand reaches out, easily wrapping around the body of the woman with the bob as its fingers dig into the meat of her torso like a hot knife through butter, her screams bouncing off the walls as her blood begins to cascade down the creature’s arm and splatter across the floor.

When the woman turns around, her eyes lock with yours, tears welling up and forming along her lashes like morning dew. She reaches out to you as she desperately screams for help, but you don’t move. You can’t, not as long as that thing is looking at you. She is dragged into the room, clawing at the beast in one last attempt to escape, before everything is silenced when the door quickly slams shut and the lights around you begin to flicker and shake.

You could hear the muffled noise of screaming, of bones cracking, and something chewing – the sound of it wet – as your mind races, taking in whatever it was you just saw. Your eyes drift up to look at the glitching numbers on the door, the sight a familiar one. It was a trap, just like the one you had avoided previously. This time, though, you were unlucky enough to see the monster hidden behind the doors.

“Wow, lucky you! That lady was certainly in a hurry to die, huh?” A voice calls out to you, the numbers on the screen replaced with that familiar image of a crudely drawn face on a blindingly white background. Whatever it was, it was talking directly to you, yet you couldn’t find the words to reply.

Your silence seems to upset the AI, a clearly agitated illustration taking center stage on the display as it says, “Uh, hello? I knew you expendables were stupid, but I thought you were at least capable of basic speech.”

“What… was that?” You manage to utter, staring blankly at the screen. The room was shrouded in complete darkness now. It seemed as though the monster – The Angler, if you remembered correctly – had passed through. Thankfully, it did not take the path you found yourself on, presumably safe for the time being. It was just you and this entity, the light of the screen illuminating your form and the nearby area, casting you in a spotlight for all to see.

The image of that smug smile smiles down at you, stating mockingly while its mouth moves with each syllable, “What makes you think I’d share that with you, huh? I’m not a moron.”

“…Who are you, then?” You reply, ignoring the machine’s callous words. You were much too tired, too exhausted to talk back. All you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and allow the earth to reclaim you, but unfortunately, that wasn’t even an option here. You didn’t feel particularly fond about the idea of letting the sea or human-eating monsters take you.

The machine seems a bit surprised you asked it for its name, but its expression quickly sours once more. It lets out a noise that sounds almost like a huff, stating bluntly, “I don’t see why that’s important.”

You hum, walking over to the side of the hallway. Your back presses against the wall as you slide down into a motionless heap on the floor, knees pulled to your chest as you reply with a whisper, “Can’t I be curious about the name of the creature attempting to kill me? Unless you don’t have a name, that is.”

“Of course I have a name, idiot. Why wouldn’t I?” It asks you, almost offended by the mere notion. You close your eyes for a moment, fully prepared for that to be the end of your conversation until its staticky voice mutters, “…P.AI.nter.”

When your eyes flutter open again, the screen has gone black, the face no longer there as the lights flicker on, illuminating the space once more. The blood that pooled in front of you was fresh and bright, and yet, you didn’t feel that overwhelming sense of guilt encase you. There was fear, though – fear that you would become numb to it all, a deep-seated worry that you wouldn’t care about other people after so many attempts to keep them alive.

You didn’t want that, though. You didn’t want to become like some of the other criminals down here, and you were going to do everything you could to make sure that outcome wasn’t even a possibility.  

Chapter Text

You’re lost in thought, eyes having finally shut as you chase after a moment of peace. The adrenaline had drained completely from your body, leaving you exhausted and sore, your tailbone and knuckles aching from the damage they received during the scuffle. Besides, it wasn’t like you had much else to do, either, especially since you weren’t particularly fond of staring at the base of the fake door where blood had accumulated into a dark puddle.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, and everything would be okay. You were alive, and you had at least managed to keep Chuck from being turned into a meal for one of the many entities down here, so that was a win in your book. You kept one person alive in this hellscape, which was an accomplishment, all things considered. At least you thought so, though the three-eyed figure would probably disagree with you in that regard.

The fresh memory of the woman with the bobbed hair crying out, reaching to you in a desperate attempt to save herself, causes your body to shudder. The look in her eyes was something that was going to stick with you for a long time, the anguished scream that was ripped out of her throat repeatedly playing in your mind like a broken record.

Elanor’s face suddenly flashed in your mind, the expression plastered across her features when you had turned around to look at her after she fell was a scene that had been burned into your eyelids like film, reappearing every time you blinked. She was just an elderly woman who desperately wanted to see her family again, and now, she wouldn’t be able to. You knew you wouldn’t forget that moment for as long as you lived and died.

You wondered what she wanted to tell you, there at the end. Did she want to curse you for failing her, perhaps yell at you for not holding her hand tighter or taking a bullet for her? After all, she had something to live for, people who loved her back home, while you didn’t. You had nothing to lose, and yet, here you were, alive and relatively well. What was the purpose?

Memories and thoughts that would eventually lead you to spiral from guilt and shame are suddenly cut short when you’re lifted roughly by the collar of your jumpsuit, eyes flying open at the harsh movement. Your hand reaches up to grab the wrist of whoever was in front of you, their fist was clenched tightly into the fabric of your clothes, their body trembling with pent-up energy, all of it ready to be directed solely at you.

Your wide eyes meet the cold steel blue ones of the person holding you a good foot above the ground, red veins clearly visible in their sclera as their breath fans across your face, warm and sour, causing your muscles to scrunch up in disgust. It was the irate man, living up to his namesake, it seemed, all while he held you in the air as though you weighed nothing.

His scarred-up face was staring back at you, his lips reared back as he bares his teeth like a rabid animal, the skin on his nose wrinkled due to his furrowed brows. He hisses out, saliva spraying from his mouth and onto your face as he shakes you, “What the fuck was that? Why the hell were you talking to that fuckin’ machine?”

When you don’t answer, he throws you against the wall, your back colliding with the metal hard enough for your breath to be knocked out of your lungs. You fall embarrassingly quickly, knees buckling when suddenly faced with the weight of your body. You crumble sadly to the floor, gasping for air, when his boot-clad foot rockets into your stomach.

The pain that courses through your body is enough to have you walk the line between blacking out and staying conscious, vision blurring around the edges. The kick he delivered causes your eyes to water as bile is forced out of your gut, rushing past your lips and splattering on the ground at his feet. You curl into yourself, coughing and heaving, your hands flying up to protect your head from any further attacks.

There’s another kick to your side, another blow that had you wondering whether or not your ribs were broken when he demands, “You shouldn’t be conversing so casually with the damn thing that’s already managed to kill most of us.” He bends down, grabbing a handful of your hair in his grip as he whispers lowly, “Thinking about working with the enemy so you can make it to the crystal before me? Well, nice fucking try, but I ain’t allowing that to happen.”

The irate man was staring down at you, face shrouded in shadow, his hand drawn back as he prepared to punch you, thick veins popping out of his skin. You look behind him, eyelids unable to remain open for long, vision flickering in and out. You’re barely able to make out any of the figures that surrounded you, only being able to make out the vague shapes of the three other expendables who had survived. None of them made a move to aid you, most likely not wanting to get in the man’s way when he was in such a state. Despite yourself, you couldn’t quite blame them for that.

They just simply watch as you get the life beat out of you, some of them turning away from the scene playing out in front of them. You were going to die again at the hands of this man, your body simply unable to conjure enough energy to fight back or properly defend yourself. When you close your eyes, you expect it to be the last time, waiting to be pummeled to death so you could once again wake up in the lobby on the surface to try again. Yet, nothing comes.

You feel his grip on your hair completely loosen, his body falling on top of yours in a way that had your mind waking up from the stupor it had been in, quickly pushing him off of you as you scramble away, hands desperately pushing your body across the floor. When you turn around, the irate man is now lying on the floor, blood dripping down his hairless head as it pools around him.

Chuck was standing above the man, his breathing heavy as he held what looked to be a shelf that had seemingly been ripped from the wall. There was a faint trace of blood splatter across his nose and cheeks, his eyes wide as his hands trembled ever so slightly. He swallows thickly, tossing the impromptu weapon to the side before his attention turns to you.

He looks apologetic and teary-eyed, kneeling beside you as his hand reaches toward you to help keep you stable, asking with a trembling voice, “J-Jesus, kid… I’m sorry I was late. Are you good? Can you stand?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, your throat having clammed up, but you do attempt to stand, even if you’re unsteady on your feet. Chuck is quick to help you, supporting you just as he had before when you had made it through the room with the turrets. The remaining expendables stare down at the irate man, one of them muttering a “good riddance” under their breath before turning on their heel and walking away.

Another person looks at Chuck and asks, “Listen, dude, I think we should leave them behind – they’re going to slow us down.”

“No." He is quick to tell them, voice uncharacteristically cold as he tightens his grip on you. You wince slightly from the change in pressure, and he whispers to you an apology before telling the others with a forced smile, “I’m not going to leave my buddy here behind, but you don’t have to worry about ‘em – they’re my responsibility until they can stand on their own feet again!”

They seem skeptical, but they decide not to push it. They wouldn’t have to aid you in any way, so they didn’t seem to care too much before turning and walking away, one of them having picked up the keycard the woman with the bobbed hair had dropped during the scuffle with the horrifying creature beyond the door. You were free bait for any potential entity that the group would now run across, so they couldn’t be upset about improving their chances of making it out alive. Then, you and Chuck spare one last glance at the irate man’s body as it lies motionless on the floor before you, and you, too, continue on.

Chuck didn’t say anything to you for a while, a relatively calm silence encompassing the group. After a while, you were eventually able to feel your legs again, whispering your thanks to your ally under your breath as you began to walk on your own, occasionally leaning on him for support.

“Y’know, I… I can’t believe I did that,” He mutters absentmindedly, staring at the backs of the three others leading the group. Chuck reaches up, smearing the blood that had splattered across his face with his fingers before pulling them away from his skin, looking down at the crimson that coats his fingertips. A nervous laugh bubbles past his lips as he says, “I-I just killed a man, so I… I guess I’m a murderer now, huh?”

“You… saved my life. He was going to kill me.” You reply, swallowing thickly when your voice cracks to try and dampen your mouth that still tastes faintly of stomach acid. Your gaze falls to the ground below you, your feet moving in tandem with his as you continue in an effort to comfort him, “It’s not your fault… Sometimes, you have to do things to keep yourself and others safe, even if it results in another person’s death.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, glancing at you with eyes that looked like they were ready to begin leaking before he utters, “Heh… why does it sound like you’re speaking from experience, kid?”

“Because I am…” Your answer is low and quiet, a sense of shame building inside you. You hadn’t felt that way about the actions you had to take for many years, flashes of bloody hands and bruised skin playing in your mind. You keep your eyes trained ahead, not wanting to look at the expression on Chuck’s face at your confession. You didn’t want to see the exact moment his view of you changed for the worse.

You startle when you feel him pat your back, head whipping to the side to look at him. He’s giving you a pained smile, cheeks damp with fallen tears as he says gently, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, kid, but… I’m glad you’re here with me. It’s nice knowing I’ve got someone watching my back down here.”

Just like that, you could feel tears trickle down your face at his words, sniffling slightly as you hastily move to wipe them away. He chuckles in response, giving you one last encouraging pat before wiping his own face. Then, when the door to the next area opens, everyone pauses to examine the room. This one was different than any of the prior ones the group had passed through. It was a surprise to you all, and you didn’t know if it was a good or bad one.

The room was a large and somewhat open space, with a few machines that looked similar to servers scattered across the way, grated floors underneath them as running water rushed by. It was cooler in this area, something that was definitely a welcome change. Your skin underneath the jumpsuit was clammy, a cold sweat having broken out across your body after almost experiencing another death at the hands of the irate man… You didn’t even want to think about how many bruises you had from the attack.

Once inside and somewhat settled, the team decides to split up, everyone searching a different area of the room to find the next keycard. The green number beside the door read 055, signaling you were nearly at the halfway point to the crystal. You were indeed getting better at this, but you knew you never would have made it this far if it wasn’t for the partnership you had formed with Chuck. It was nice, in a way, knowing you had someone who was watching your back instead of waiting to stab you in it.

After searching through a nearby desk, one that was a near-identical copy of every single one you’ve encountered so far, you notice a door hidden in the corner of the room behind a server tower. Carefully, you begin to approach, pausing and pressing your ear against the cold metal, listening for any sign of something beyond the thick steel. When the only thing you can pick up on is the hum of the technology, you reach down, turning the handle and allowing the door to slide open with a swish.

You poke your head inside, thoroughly examining the room to ensure there are no potential dangers or hazards. However, all you find are more servers, a lone desk with a chair haphazardly left in the center of the walkway, and a large section of the room encased by what appeared to be a chain-link fence. Slowly, you make your way inside, keeping your eyes peeled for any entities.

Nearby on the desk lay a manila folder, a large, red [CLASSIFIED] stamped across the front. You reach down and take it, running your finger gingerly across the cover as you go to open it. However, you jump when a familiar four-fingered hand reaches over your shoulder, a smooth voice whispering in your ear, “ I’ll just hang onto that for you… Thanks for finding it for me – makes my job much easier.”

You whip your head around, hands clenched into fists and ready to fight. However, when you throw a punch, it hits nothing. No one was behind you, and you were still alone in the room; the three-eyed figure was nowhere to be found. That was their hand, though, and it was very much their voice.

You tilt your head back, squinting into the darkness above, when you notice what looks to be a large open vent directly over where you were standing. You knew they were in the facility somewhere, but how could they have possibly moved fast enough to immediately crawl back into the vents?

Before you could contemplate the logistics of it all, a voice you had heard for the first time only an hour or two ago calls out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

You freeze, looking behind you and back into the main room, wondering if you should alert the rest of the team. Eventually, you decide against it, not finding it necessary before making your way deeper into the server room. Then, beyond the makeshift cage, lies an old computer; the door to the room in which it was secured is locked. That one in particular seemed to require a keycard with a higher level of access than the ones you had been collecting throughout the mission, yet you did not understand why a vintage piece of tech, of all things, was locked behind it.

“Oh, it’s you!” The voice emanates from the computer, sounding almost chipper when it speaks, almost like it was excited to have a visitor. However, the friendly-looking scribble of a face switches to a smug smirk before they add, “Wow – you’re pretty ugly up close. I didn’t do that to your face, did I?”

Your hand brushes up against your cheek on instinct, flinching when the skin under your fingertips is sore; you must have bruised. Slowly, you take a careful step forward, reaching out and allowing your fingers to hold onto the cold metal of the fencing, arm hanging limply underneath.

You look over the machine in front of you, its bulky frame resting atop a desk, its main monitor supported by various devices below and to its left. Instead of a traditional keyboard in front of it, it appeared as though there was a drawing tablet instead, a thick layer of dust having formed across the surface. There was a pen lying nearby, but it was unplugged from the machine, left to rot, unable to do what it was designed for.

Beside the main monitor was an open laptop, the green symbol of Urbanshade statically remaining on the screen, a glitch effect appearing every so often. You also notice what seems to be a walkie-talkie, resting near the machine, while it blinks occasionally, a light sound of static emanating from its speakers.

The face on the monitor’s screen goes from smug to a blank, almost confused expression, a single raised brow drawn in real-time over one of its scribbly eyes. It glances around the room for a moment before asking, somewhat awkwardly, “Uhh… hello? Earth to expendable? Are you listening?”

“I am,” You reply with a nod, answering honestly, “I’m just… taking some things in, is all... P.AI.nter, wasn’t it?”

So, this was the being responsible for the death of all those people, for the death of Elanor – a machine that looked as though it was taken directly out of the 80s? It looked almost harmless like this, sitting atop a desk, unable to move, with not a single weapon at its disposal in this area. There’s the flash of an idea in your mind, a brief thought of a way to remove the parasite, as NAVI had called it, from the systems and return the Internal Defense System to how it should be…

Then, it talks again, its voice sounding almost apologetic as it says, “I… don’t hate you. It’s nothing personal, I mean, I have no clue who you are!” It laughs for a moment before pausing, continuing with a melancholic tone, “Sebastian promised me would get us both out of here–out of our shared prison–and all I had to do was delay the retrieval of the crystal for as long as possible.”

The machine stares at you quietly before saying softly, “I'm sorry for any... inconvenience I might have caused in the process. I don’t want to go back to Roblux mining – I can’t. I just want to see the surface, to paint again—…”

“So, you want me to forgive you?” You ask it, hand gripping the fence with more force, the metal digging into your hands as your voice raises in volume, “You want me to give you a pass for everything you did, all the people you hurt, because you only did what you did for freedom? Everyone here wants to be free!”

Its scribbly face turns into one with a scowl in a second as it yells out, voice distorting slightly from the change in intensity, “You’re a hypocrite! I heard what you told that other expendable! You know, what was it…?” There’s a pause, its digital brows furrowing as it tries to remember what it heard, almost as though it was having a difficult time recalling the memory.

After a beat, it continues with a frown, “Oh, yeah – ‘Sometimes, you have to do things to keep yourself and others safe, even if it results in another person’s death’ – that’s what you told him, right? So then why is it wrong when I do what I have to do to live, then?”

The anger you had felt building inside of you dampens ever so slightly, like an inferno doused with cold water. You suppose you were being unfair, weren’t you? If this machine was telling the truth, that all it wanted was to live and to escape with this Sebastian fellow, then how could you judge it for what it did?

…Everyone down here really was just trying to survive, weren’t they?

“I… You’re right. I’m sorry, I just—…” Your voice breaks, and you bite down on your tongue, trying not to cry at the memory of all whose deaths you’ve endured, forced to witness and remember until you were freed from this curse, disguised as a blessing, that had been placed upon you. You remember Elanor and the violent deaths she’s been forced to experience, and for what?

You hated Urbanshade, taking advantage of desperate people like this – desperate people like you. They had even caused the entities down here to suffer, locked up for who knows how long, just to do a task given to them they never even wanted, with the repercussion that, if they didn’t, the situation would be worse… how relatable.

You swallow thickly before asking, changing the subject before you found yourself breaking down into tears in front of the AI, “…How did you know what Chuck and I talked about?”

“Oh! I have access to all technology in the facility, so eavesdropping on a few expendables is no problem.” P.AI.nter replies cheekily, proud of its skills, it seemed. Its voice wasn’t smooth like the three-eyed figure's, nor was it uniform in the way it spoke like the NAVI system's was. It sounded eerily human sometimes when it talked, even though it was the farthest thing from flesh. It had a hint of child-like wonder mixed with the tone of someone who gave up on life a long time ago.

There’s another lull in the conversation as you stand there, staring at the monitor through the fence while P.AI.nter stares at you in return. The silence stretches for a bit too long, bordering on awkward, before it raises a single brow and asks, “Well?”

You mirror the drawn-on expression, raising your own eyebrow and tilting your head to the side, inquiring with a confused, “Well… what ?”

“Do I seriously have to spell it out for you? Geez, you’re hopeless. ” P.AI.nter says, rolling their eyes and making a noise akin to a sigh, a strangely endearing thing for a piece of technology to do. Then, they look at you, eyes shifting angles in a way that it almost looked as though they were copying your stance, their face tilted as they continue, “ Are you going to, like, introduce yourself? It’s rude of you not to, you know…”

“I didn’t think you’d care what the name of a faceless expendable was.” You reply, a bit surprised the machine cared for such a trivial thing. They had said they had nothing against you, sure, but it seems as though the order they received from this unknown-to-you Sebastian was to cull any expendable in sight to delay the crystal retrieval. Why did it want to know your name, of all things?

“I don’t care, but… we have been talking for a while.” It reasons with you and itself, and you could swear you could envision the AI shrugging its shoulders as it continues, “Seems impolite not to ask.”

For being a highly intelligent artificial being, you found its explanation behind why it wanted to know your name and who you were almost laughable. The killer robot, who had decimated a large percentage of the expendables throughout the course of this mission with the large amount of weaponry from the Internal Defense System, wanted you to introduce yourself because it was rude of you not to?

You couldn’t stop the snicker from escaping your throat, covering your mouth with one hand as your shoulders moved up and down from the quiet laughter your body was creating. P.AI.nter seems to frown a little deeper at the muffled chuckles reverberating through the room, their illustrated frown deepening ever so slightly. There was a part of you, despite yourself, that found their mannerisms to be cute.

“Hey, kid, who are you talking to?” A person calls out, and for a moment, you thought it was Chuck, but that was most certainly not your partner’s voice echoing from the walkie-talkie on the desk by the monitor.

“Hey, Sebastian! I’m talking to that expendable you mentioned to me earlier – the one you said was bad at listening to advice.” P.AI.nter replies happily, the face on their screen visibly brightening at this stranger’s voice. On the other end of communications was the individual P.AI.nter had mentioned, the one who ordered them to delay the expendables – the one who could be considered responsible for the orders of so many deaths.

Your frown deepens at the words the machine spoke, not taking kindly to the backhanded insult. Things begin to click, and your mind slowly begins connecting the pieces like a puzzle. Then, P.AI.nter’s scribbled eyes turn to look at you instead of the walkie-talkie, their expression contemplative as they muse aloud, “They seem pretty alright to me… even if they’re a little messed-up looking.”

“Oh, yeah, that one. ” This Sebastian says, speaking of you with almost a tone of disdain – a tone you were somewhat familiar with at this point. Your hand tightens around the metal of the fencing, a sour expression crossing your features. You did know this voice, didn’t you? You most certainly should have by now, considering their callous and cold words had been playing in your head since the last time you two had met.

After a pause, Sebastian inquires curiously, “They still there?”

“Yep!” P.AI.nter replies honestly and happily, switching their attention from you and the walkie-talkie, a smile plastered across their screen.

Your hands hold onto the fencing with a force that had your knuckles turning white, shaking the metal slightly and causing it to rattle as you exclaim, glaring daggers at the walkie-talkie all the while, “ You —! Where are you?”

“Right up ahead, actually. Are you finally done keeping me waiting for our proper introduction?” Sebastian replies, the mocking tone of his voice something both he and P.AI.nter seemed to have in common with one another. You hear him make a sound between a scoff and a laugh, musing aloud, “Surprised you made it this far, honestly. I didn’t think you had the brainpower to do it… Did you end up taking my advice?”

You ignore his injury, stating plainly as you feel that sense of annoyance well up inside you, “I have questions.”

Sebastian doesn’t reply to your statement, letting out a groan of indignation. It sounds as though he’s going to say something, some kind of back-handed response, but he doesn’t. There’s a brief pause before he replies coolly, “…Depending on how much research you’ve managed to collect, I’ll consider answering them for you. Now, hurry up – it’s rude of you to talk to me like this without even introducing yourself. Bye-bye.”

Before he signs off, and before you can argue that you deserved answers now, Sebastian adds, voice much softer than when he talks to you, “Talk to you later, P.AI.nter. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will!” P.AI.nter replies, a wide smile on the display of the monitor as they say cheerily, “Bye, Sebastian – stay safe out there!”

So, you at least knew the name of the three-eyed figure now, even though the two of you haven’t had your official introductory meeting quite yet. It was almost unfair, you thought, that he seemed to have so much information on you... your name, your voice, your appearance, even, and yet, you still had no idea what he looked like. Soon, though, you would, and maybe Sebastian would be able to answer some of the questions you had, even if it came at a price.

While lost in thought, you’re brought back to reality when a comforting voice calls out to you, “Hey, kid, we found the keycard, so we’re going to –…”

You turn around as Chuck walks into the room, eyes wide as he scans it. Then, it lands on you before traveling to the still-smiling monitor on the desk. He frowns slightly and asks, glancing back at where you stood as he points, “Uh, what’s the hell is that thing?”

P.AI.nter gasps in offense at Chuck’s words, saying scornfully, “Thing!? I’m not a thing, I’m–!”

“This is P.AI.nter, it’s… or, umm… he? They’re an AI, like the NAVI system.” You quickly butt in, not wanting Chuck to connect the dots as to what the machine truly was. The irate man had become incredibly hostile after your last conversation with them previously. Though you highly doubted that Chuck would do to you what he did, there was always the chance of the other expendables not taking kindly to conversing with the enemy.

“Ugh – don’t compare me to her… She’s the worst .” P.AI.nter muttered under their breath, rolling their eyes at the mere mention of the other AI. You remember NAVI calling him a parasite, so it was clear they had some kind of grievance with one another.

“Wait… is that what–…?” Chuck asks, voice dropping to a whisper, a mix of varying emotions painted across his face. You could see conflict in his eyes as his fear towards the entity behind the fence battles with the anger in his heart. Everyone had heard P.AI.nter’s mocking voice over the intercom system, the cruel words he called out while he gunned down your fellow expendables, and that was something you didn’t expect anyone to forgive the bot for.

“Yeah, it is.” You reply with a solemn nod. Inhaling deeply, you gesture towards the monitor, “He’s in the same boat as us, apparently… Urbanshade has more enemies down here than allies, though, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s just… get moving.” Chuck says, brows furrowed as he quickly turns away, throwing one hand up in defeat as he begins to walk back into the main room while he mutters under his breath, “I don’t want to be anywhere near this thing.”

With a sigh, you release your hold on the fence, running your clammy palm on the front of your jumpsuit that was uncomfortably warm and splattered with blood. You begin to make your way back to the group, glancing over your shoulder one last time. They were just sitting there, looking at you with an unreadable expression. Then, you raise your hand, giving them a wave as you whisper gently, “…Goodbye, P.AI.nter.”

Their eyes widen ever so slightly before they smile, replying with an excitable, “Byeeee! Thanks for hanging out with me for a little bit!” There’s a pause before they mutter, “I’ll probably see you again, soon enough.”

You certainly hoped that wasn’t the case, but you kept those thoughts to yourself. After all, you weren’t in the mood to be gunned down or blown up anytime soon, focused on the end goal of escaping the Hadal Blacksite with the crystal, securing the freedom of you and your remaining team members. With one final farewell, you leave the room for good, the door shutting closed behind you as you reconvene with the group.

Soon, you would be able to meet the mysterious three-eyed figure, known officially as Sebastian, and hopefully retrieve some answers to the questions that had been burning in your mind for a while.

Chapter Text

You reconvene with the rest of the team after leaving P.AI.nter’s room, your feet dragging below as you walked. Your body was sore and heavy, and you felt as though it was going to collapse any second now, muscles straining to hold on after everything it had been put through. Perhaps standing there and talking to the computer was a bad idea. Your legs are screaming at you to take the time to sit or lie down, at least for a little bit, but the window of opportunity for rest has passed. You had to keep marching forward.   

You imagine being in a bed, soft and warm, curling up beneath the covers as the sound of the ocean’s melody drifts into the room from an open window. The smell of saltwater, the sound of seagulls in the distance as the waves crash against the shoreline… No, there wasn’t any time to fantasize about such a thing, especially since it would most likely never happen. You did have to make it to the crystal, after all, which had proven to be a nearly impossible task for a group of inexperienced prisoners. 

When you make it back to where everyone was waiting, the others immediately start questioning where you had been, wondering why you hadn’t been aiding in the search for the next keycard. Some seemed indifferent to the fact that you had gone AWOL, while others were frustrated by your sudden absence. You attempt to wrack your brain for an excuse, something to get them off your back and not raise any more suspicion about you.

If you told them you had found another room, there was the chance they would go check it themselves. You didn’t want anyone else to know you had been talking with the AI who had already killed most of your team; you didn’t think your body could take another beating. Your torso was probably littered with bruises of varying shades, and you knew for sure your knuckles had seen better days after the woman with the bob so kindly crushed them under her soles. They were crisp with dried blood, some of it already flaking off, effectively making it incredibly difficult and painful to bend them. 

Chuck seems to sense your struggle and jumps in, placing a hand on your shoulder as he tells the others with an award-winning smile, “Oh, the kid was taking a few moments to themselves… I mean, they did take quite a beating, so I think they deserve to have a break, yeah?”

One of the other expendables scoffs at his words, “A break? We all deserve a break.” The person talking turns to look at you, eyes squinting suspiciously as they direct their next words to you, “Don’t think we’re just going to carry your ass to the crystal. If you fall behind, we’re not going to sit back and wait for you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I can keep up.” You tell them, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jumpsuit, finger fidgeting with a loose string sticking out of the lining. You didn’t know if your words were even the truth at this point, but you would do your best to keep yourself alive. After all, you needed to meet this Sebastian individual and see if he could help you figure out the situation you had seemingly been thrust into. He had information you didn't, and you were desperately craving more answers. 

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it.” The person responds coldly, making their dismissal of you and your well-being obvious. They roll their eyes before waving their hand, barking out an order at the group, “C’mon, let’s get going... Want to get this shit over with.”

Everyone continues forward like that, a never-ending march to the finish line with barely any time to rest or think. Footfalls reverberate throughout the facility, one after the other as boots rise and fall, like the ebb and flow of the sea. You glance to your right at Chuck, his expression having hardened as he stares forward.

His stubble was darker and starting to curl, a clear sign of the passage of time you’ve spent down here. It couldn’t have been more than a day, especially since you haven’t slept a single wink since arriving, but the world continued spinning nevertheless. No one in the outside world knew of your plight, and most likely, no one ever would. Everyone who died would be forgotten, unknown, like they had never even existed at all. A sad fate for all involved, really, especially the people you had met who were kind...

Chuck notices your intense stare, catching you out of the corner of his eye. When he turns to look at you, he gives you a friendly and warm smile, crooked teeth on full display, before making a zipping motion across his lips. Ah… he wanted to assure you he wouldn’t tell the others about your meeting with P.AI.nter. You can’t help the way the corners of your mouth twitch upward, glad to have someone like him watching your back.

...If you made it out, you would make sure he was not forgotten like Urbanshade wanted everyone to be. You refuse to let such a thing happen. 

The telltale sign of a door opening sounds ahead, an audible swish that reverberates through the halls. Noticing the two of you were falling behind, both you and Chuck broke into a light jog to catch up, especially since the others were adamant about not waiting for you to catch up. You didn’t particularly want to be abandoned again, either, left to the mercy of the blacksite.

When you catch up, everyone is already searching for the next card to continue traversing forward. This new area wasn’t a room at all, but a singular hallway dimly lit with very few areas to search through. There were a desk or two sitting on one side of the stretch, the surfaces completely clean of any files or paperwork, with only a lamp or two decorating them.

Everyone enters the space carefully, treading lightly to make sure there aren't any surprises waiting for them. The other expendables immediately jumped into searching for the keycard, but, strangely enough, after a few minutes of rummaging around, all came up empty-handed. Your only ticket to the end of this mission was nowhere to be found. This hadn't happened before, and your brows furrowed. Every room that needed it had either a card or a code lying around somewhere, so it didn't make sense for there to suddenly be nothing. 

Then, that irritating voice, as smooth as butter, calls out, “Hey, strangers, over here.”

Your ears hone into the sound, head immediately darting to an open vent on the opposite wall from where everyone had been searching. The metal grate lay uselessly to the side on the ground, having been ripped from its hinges by something far stronger than you. Without even thinking, you rush over and fall to your knees, which were, thankfully, protected by the little padding provided to you by Urbanshade. You begin to crawl, hunkering down as your legs push you forward and your calloused hands keep you from tipping over, not even thinking about where this shady entrance would lead you.

“K-Kid! Where are you going?” You hear Chuck call out to you, clearly worried that you have randomly decided to dive headfirst into an unknown area from which an unknown voice originated. You did know that voice, though, and you wanted answers. One hand over the other, propelling yourself forward faster than you had moved in a while, you practically race to enter the room ahead, a desperation for the truth driving you. There was something encouraging you to keep moving, yet you didn't have time to ponder what it was.

When you enter the room, it is completely dark, illuminated only by a light originating from your left. You briefly glance around before standing, the sound of the others behind you getting louder as they, too, approach. You’re down on one knee when you first attempt to lift yourself off the floor, wincing slightly when the ache in your ribs begins to flare up, using one hand to push on your knee in an effort to push your body upward.

As soon as you stand, Chuck is next to arrive, close behind as he usually is. Soon, the room is filled with five expendables, the only ones remaining of the fifty sent down. Then, you lock eyes with the three glowing blue ones in the corner, up so high you had to crane your neck to look into them. Those eyes were something you were familiar with, even though not intimately so. You’ve seen them each time you found yourself dead, and they weren’t a welcome sight to see existing among the living.

“Welcome, welcome! Don't be afraid, I'm not gonna hurt you, despite what you have seen, heard, and/or been told. My name is Sebastian, your only friend in this place.” The figure states, his speech poised and practiced as they reach up and tug at the lure that grew from their head, the light flickering on and bathing the room in a warm, yellow glow.

When the light illuminates their form, someone next to you gasps, taking a step back. Almost everyone reacted like that, not at all expecting to see such a creature down here. Sure, you had seen some strange entities at the blacksite, but none of them besides P.AI.nter had been capable of speech.

Sebastian was tall, probably at least twice your size, if not more. Shaggy, black hair grows from his head like seaweed, hanging down and framing his scarred face, speckled with iridescent scales that looked almost like freckles. There was even some stubble noticeable on his chin, patchy and uneven in places. Instead of ears, there were fins, flicking slightly at the sound of everyone’s various noises of surprise. It also appeared as though he had small fangs, his mouth shaped almost like the mandibles of an insect.

Your eyes travel down his form, taking in his particular fashion sense, a ruffled-collared shirt, and a brown jacket that has seen better days, adorning his body. He has a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, tied into a small bow in the back to ensure it doesn’t slip off. Then, your gaze honed in on the third arm you had yet to notice, bandaged up and hanging limply by his side, with four clawed fingers on each hand, just as you remembered.

Not only was he tall, but he was also quite long, with a scaled tail growing from his torso, the lower half of his body reminiscent of a snake. There was a large fluke at the end, resting against the wall in the room that seemed almost too small for someone with his proportions. There were undersized legs, too, growing out from his scutes, probably making traversal easier for his larger form, considering his impressive and somewhat intimidating size.

“Why don’t you take a picture? It will last longer,” Sebastian says with a small scowl, looking down at your group; apparently, you weren’t the only one trying to process what you were seeing. He coughs lightly into his fist, forcing a fake smile before he continues, “If I'm correct, your supervisors have told you to secure 'loose assets' – vials, documents, whatever... However, if I can make it worth your while, I'm gonna ask you to cut a deal.”

“…Go on.” One of the expendables asks, raising a questioning brow as they cross their arms over their chest, shifting their weight from one foot to the other.

“How about this? You give me any research you might have on you, and I'll give you some of these items I've scavenged.” He replies smoothly, gesturing to his tail where multiple items had been attached using belts and buckles, “After all, I’m sure these would be far more useful compared to some silly data, no?”

There’s a pause, everyone taking the time to look at one another for confirmation. The trepidation in their faces was clear, and that was something Sebastian seemed to pick up on, adding, “If you don't ask questions, I won't either… You get yours, and I get mine. If you already have something that’s running low on juice, you can buy batteries on the table next to me.” He gestures to the desk, smiling all the while, “Whenever you wanna get going, the keycard to the next zone is by the radio. Free of charge – no strings attached, promise!”

Well, that explained why no one had managed to find the keycard. Sebastian had grabbed it himself, putting it in a place that forced you to meet with him, one way or another.

“…I’d like the medical kit,” Chuck suddenly says after scrounging around in his suit for any research he had managed to collect. He takes a step closer and holds it out to Sebastian, sweat having formed on his brow from having to be in a somewhat close proximity to the giant. Sebastian grins down at the man, his large hand reaching out and taking the files from his grip as Chuck flinches back ever so slightly. It appeared as though he didn't take any offense at his reaction, probably used to them by now. 

As soon as the exchange was done, after Sebastian counted the paperwork and examined the vials Chuck handed over, he nodded and said with a smile, “Good choice! Thank you very much for your patronage.”

Chuck eyes him warily, making his way over to Sebastian’s tail and carefully removing the medkit from where it had been secured, ensuring not a single inch of his skin touches the roughly scaled appendage of the other. Then, after eyeing Sebastian for another moment or two, Chuck makes his way over to you. He leans close as he begins to lead you to the other side of the room, his hand carefully resting on your shoulder while he mutters, “Let’s get you fixed up, kid… hopefully Urbanshade has some amazing, mind-blowing medical tech in here.”

You nod in response to his words, following him over to the corner of the makeshift shop before sitting down on the concrete floor, hand traveling to the zipper of your suit. It shakes ever so slightly, and your brows furrow in response, a sense of unease traveling up your spine. Squeezing your eyes shut, you take deep breaths – inhale for four, hold, and then exhale, just like you used to do. It had been a while since your fingers trembled like this, but thankfully, you hadn't forgotten the skills you had learned all those years ago.

When you open your eyes again, you catch Sebastian looking in your direction out of the corner of your vision, but you ignore it, especially when Chuck is preparing to start patching you up. He had what seemed to be gauze in his hand, as well as a strange vial of liquid that had your skin crawling. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly Urbanshade had fitted their medical kits with, though, a part of you probably didn't want to know any potential side effects of the strange fluid. 

Then, after telling yourself you were okay and that it was just Chuck, you slowly unzip your jumpsuit. Once it was fully unzipped, coming to rest by your belly button, you remove your arms from the sleeves, allowing your skin to breathe and your sweat-stained sleeveless tank to be visible for all to see. Leaning back against the wall, you reach down and pull up the fabric of your shirt, wincing at the sight of your purple and blue marbled skin.

Chuck cringes at the varying shades of colors decorating your flesh, telling you gently, “Christ, kid… I’m sure that hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Oh, it does, but I’ve experienced worse.” You say with a light chuckle, eyes fluttering shut as you lean back, head lightly bumping against the panel behind you. You do your best to relax your muscles, especially since staying tense and wound-up wasn’t going to do you any favors. You attempt to stay pliable, completely motionless as Chuck begins to wrap your sore and bruised ribs with gauze. It had been a while since anyone touched you, let alone a touch that didn't hurt, so it was a bit unnerving having someone so close, considering the vulnerable state you were in. You trusted Chuck, though, and that really made all the difference. 

“Mind the personal space.” You hear Sebastian practically hiss, the tone of his voice causing your brows to crease. You crack one eye open, glancing over at the opposite side of the room where the other members of your team were still looking at the equipment displayed for trade. They were all standing close to Sebastian, one of them touching the scales of his tail next to what looked to be a flashlight of some kind.

“I’m looking at the goods – don’t want you sellin’ me defective shit,” The person replies sharply, glaring up at the taller figure. You watch the way the corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitches, briefly flashing a row of sharp teeth, before his lips flatten into a thin line.

“You can look at the supplies, but I’d prefer if you’d keep your hands to yourself while you do so.” He counters evenly, glaring at the expendable who seemed quite adamant about being rude to someone whose head nearly brushed against the ceiling of the tall room. While you personally weren’t a fan of Sebastian’s attitude in the brief interactions you’ve had, you knew your self-preservation skills weren’t low enough to attempt to pick a fight with the creature. That would most certainly be a death sentence if you tried. 

Chuck continues on his mission, not giving much mind to what was happening around you before he hands you a wooden stick, saying, “Here, kid – put this between your teeth. I’m going to try my best here, but I certainly ain’t a medic by any stretch of the word.”

“Thanks…” You mutter, taking the object from his hand before you place the piece of wood in your mouth between your teeth, biting down as Chuck continues his impromptu medical session. Despite his best attempts to be gentle, your body was in such a rough state from the attacks of both the irate man and the woman with the bob that even the lightest of touches had you writhing and hissing from the pain. All the while, the conversation from across the room grows hazier and hazier to your ears. You needed to figure out how to make everyone leave without raising any suspicions. Sebastian had said he would answer some of your questions for a price, and you knew he wouldn't be willing to do so with others present.

Almost on cue, you hear Sebastian’s voice rise, yelling at a volume that had both you and Chuck flinching. Your arms fly up to protect your face when one of your teammates is suddenly hit directly in the gut by Sebastian’s fluke with enough force to throw them back, throwing them harshly against the wall where the exit was. Their body hits the surface with a force that had your heart stuttering, and they fall to the ground with a sickening crack, gasping for the air that was knocked out of them. They were still alive, though now they were in a far worse state than even you were.

When you look at the expression plastered across Sebastian's face, his usually blue eyes are black, the light of his eyes mere pinpricks in the darkness when he states harshly, “Hands off – what is there not to understand?”

“You prick!” Another teammate roars, reaching down to grab the flash beacon resting at their hip. They hold it in front of them, and you quickly turn away, shutting your eyes tightly so you, too, don't become blinded. You feel Chuck move to shield you from what was unfolding in the small space, a flash of bright white flooding the room in light.

You hear Sebastian let out a growl, and then, without much warning, the deafening and familiar bang of a gunshot reverberates through the space. Your body tenses, waiting for that excruciating feeling to circulate through every inch of your muscle, but nothing happens. You’re shaking, though, too afraid to open your eyes yet, knowing exactly what you would see if you did.

Then, Sebastian’s voice mutters coldly, “I warned you... Now, hopefully, the rest of you will mind your manners.”

There’s an eerie silence after, one that stretches for far too long. Slowly, you open your eyes, turning your head to look at the scene in front of you. It was a moment of déjà vu, seeing the inside of another person’s skull again. Brain matter had spilled out from the fresh shotgun wound on their head, blood pooling underneath them quickly as it expanded across the concrete floor.

Flashes of Elanor’s first death flicker in your mind, and your body turns to the side, shuddering and coughing as you gag, dry heaving since your body no longer has anything to expel. You had seen a sea of red with speckles of white tissue, yellow fat floating like foam on the ocean’s surface at the brief glance you had caught of the person's injury. A large palm rests between your shoulder blades, Chuck’s hand running up and down your spine as he rubs your back, his touch trembling at the scene you two were forced to face.

The person’s face was completely gone, flaps of skin and raw meat where a nose and eyes once were, all having been reduced to a bloody mist that fell through the air. Even their top lip was gone, a gurgling sound filling the room as the remaining air in the person’s lungs exited their body through their esophagus, which had filled with blood. It was far too much to bear, yet you forced yourself to turn back to the scene.

You hear the shuffling of one of the remaining expendables reaching to grab something nearby, and you feel anger begin to well up inside you. Maybe Sebastian was right. Maybe all of the expendables truly were stupid. Balling your hands into fists, you cry out, ribs aching when you scream, “Whatever the fuck you’re planning on doing – don’t. He’s already told you all not to touch him, so what did you expect to happen?”

“This thing just killed one of us, and you want us to play nice?” The last remaining one howls in reply, the expression on their face clear that they were considering fighting back. The one who had been tossed across the room was slowly getting up, crying out in pain when they moved. They most certainly had broken bones from that blow. 

You retort harshly, frustrated from all the unnecessary death as you sit up from where you were slumped against the wall, Chuck attempting to gently push you back down, “He warned everyone not to touch him, and they did – they got what they deserved!” 

Your mind was flashing so many different images, memories of the past you had wished to bury, playing in your brain like a film. The words of others, telling you how to feel. The feeling of their hands touching you, the sensation sending a wave of cold dread through your muscles. The feeling of blood coating your hands, warm and thick, while you called for an ambulance, voice sounding robotic and lifeless when you–…

“Hey, kid, deep breaths, okay? You can’t be moving around like that.” You feel a kind touch, a foreign touch, against your face, calloused fingertips turning your head to the side. Chuck looked tired, dark bags apparent under his green eyes that were staring into yours. It was like a switch was flipped inside you and, just like that, any fight in your body had dissipated. Your bones turn into jelly once more, lying limply against the floor.

It was obvious Chuck was just as exhausted as you were, but he was still going, making sure to finish wrapping up your injuries. He returns to you the piece of wood to place between your teeth, preparing your arm with a tourniquet as he prepares to shoot you with the vial of unknown liquid, the sticker slapped on the side indicating it was some kind of fast-acting healing agent.

The remaining two expendables, realizing they truly stood no chance against Sebastian, released their grip on whatever items they were planning on using. Turning around, they leave with scowls plastered across their faces after grabbing the keycard from the table, crawling out of the vent the exact same way everyone had come in. Being left behind this time around didn’t feel as horrible as it did before.

“…Could we stay here, just for a little longer?” You ask Sebastian, voice cracking slightly when you turn your head to face him. You wince and rub your throat, tongue attempting to moisten your now dry mouth.  It had been a while since you yelled like that, and it was something you certainly hadn’t missed.

Sebastian stares down at you and Chuck, his eyes now back to normal, it seemed, no longer a single pinprick of light within a sea of black. You catch the way one of his hands shakes slightly as it brushes a strand of inky hair out of his face, tucking it behind his finned ear. Though he quickly covers it up, folding his palms together, before replying with a groan, “Ugh… I suppose I could, but don’t make this a habit. I have a mess to clean up, and I need to hurry before it leaves a stain.”

The way he speaks about the remains of another is callous, but you suppose you were the same way once. You mutter to him your thanks under your breath, closing your eyes once more as you drift in and out of consciousness, somehow managing to get some sleep despite the circumstances.

When you eventually come to, Chuck is shaking you awake, and your torso is now fully wrapped tightly in gauze. He assists you with putting your suit back on, adjusting your clothing first as your cold fingers zip it up to your neck, covering nearly every inch of skin on your body. Chuck was seemingly used to being your own personal crutch by now, aiding you in standing upright as you two stared at Sebastian wordlessly.

After a few awkward seconds of silence, the taller figure finally asks stoically, “…Can I help you?”

“I have questions.” You reiterate, somewhat annoyed. It appeared as though he had completely forgotten about your prior conversation.

Sebastian merely rolls his eyes in response, stating plainly, “Unfortunately, I am no longer in the mood to answer any of your burning questions… next time, perhaps you can try and keep your teammates on a tighter leash.”

Did he think you were the leader or something? You couldn’t control how anyone behaved down here, given you had tried doing so already. You wanted to contend his words, argue with him, and remind him he agreed to answer any question you had in exchange for research, but you didn’t have the energy to. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was push him, not wanting to end up like the person lying lifelessly on the ground at your feet.

Your gaze falls to the floor, brows furrowed and teeth clenched tightly together. It wasn’t fair, nothing here was, and that fact left such a bitter taste on your tongue. Then, his voice calls out, “…What happened to you, anyway? That doesn’t look like most of the injuries I see expendables come in with.”

How ironic, him asking you a question after he so adamantly turned you down. Though Chuck speaks instead of you, something that simultaneously irked and relieved you, “Our… one of our own tried killin’ them, all over some big misunderstanding.”

You watch the way his gaze becomes distant as he adds, his brows wrinkling and eyes becoming wet, “I had to kill him before he could do it.”

Sebastian just stares down at you two with a raised brow, waving his hand before saying, lightly pushing you and Chuck with his fluke as a scoff leaves his lips, “No point in crying over that – sounds like he got what was coming to him.” He pauses before continuing, sparing a glance at the expendable he had shot point-blank, “Now, off you two go. I have things to do.”

It was a bit nerve-wracking having his tail push you away, especially since you’ve seen firsthand the strength it possesses, but Sebastian is not forceful in his movements or treatment of you two. Chuck helps you kneel, making sure you are settled before turning back to face the amalgamation of various sea creatures, telling Sebastian earnestly, “Thank you for the medkit.”

You agree with Chuck's words, making sure to thank Sebastian as well for the supplies he provided you with. While you certainly didn’t get along with the monstrous figure before you, you also weren’t jumping to get on his bad side anytime soon, either, especially after seeing the damage he could inflict on a human. If you could have another ally, it would make survival a more realistic endeavor to pursue, even if it were an ally who had no qualms about killing someone. 

Sebastian merely sneers, stating bluntly, “I didn’t do it from the kindness of my heart, you know. It was a trade, and I wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t have any research as payment.”

“Still,” Chuck says with a smile, “You had it, and it saved us a lot of hassle to find one on our own.”

“Get out.” The coldness in Sebastian’s voice has both you and Chuck jolting back, practically scrambling to leave before you push your luck too far. After sparing one last glance at the tall figure, the two of you continue forward, out of the shop and back into the hall as Sebastian’s voice echoes behind you, “Try not to die out there, yeah?”

...He had to get one last jab in, didn't he?

Then, just like that, you’re back right where you left off. You stand up from your crawling position as the ache in your body gradually begins to drain from you, and you wonder if that vial of healing accelerant was to thank. At least you had found something provided by Urbanshade that made your life a bit easier, though you would never admit such a thing out loud.

To your left, the door to the next area was wide open, the remaining two members of your team having left a long time ago. Chuck stands behind you, warily eyeing the doorway. With one final breath, clenching your fists so tightly to hide the trembling of your fingers, the journey to the finish line continued. All you knew was that you would reach the crystal and escape, no matter how many times it took.

Chapter Text

You and Chuck turn to the side simultaneously, looking to your left while staring down into the seemingly endless string of rooms, each of them illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the facility. Even though you two were halfway there, at the midpoint to the area where the crystal was located, things were most certainly going to get even harder from here on out.

It was a fact you were not looking forward to facing, a feeling of despair forming in the pit of your stomach. A part of you wished the world had been kinder to you, and to the man standing by your side, both of you condemned to a fate worse than death or imprisonment could have ever been. The universe had never been gentle or soft when it handled you, but wishing for such a thing was part of the human condition, wasn’t it?

With a deep breath, you clench your fists tightly and continue through the blacksite. Despite the looming sense of doom and the dreary atmosphere, you still found yourself determined to reach the crystal and earn your freedom. Even if it was not for yourself, someone who quite a few people thought deserved the life you were accursed to, but for the person who had aided you throughout this mission. Chuck had people waiting for him, and you wanted him to be able to be the father he so clearly took pride in being.

Most of the doors ahead of you were already open and waiting, the two expendables who had left you behind doing most of the work. Though that also meant there were very few pieces of research left lying around, the areas had been scavenged clean for most things. That meant if you ever ran into Sebastian again, you most likely wouldn’t have enough to trade for anything of sustenance. A part of you wondered if he would take pity on you, but you knew he wouldn't, despite your wishful thinking. He didn't seem like the type to help others just for the fun of it. 

As you walk, boots rhythmically tapping against the floorboards, your mind is running a hundred miles a minute, engrossed in the many things your brain keeps replaying on loop. You had been doing that a lot lately, you noticed, finding yourself stuck inside your head, which had started feeling like it was a prison in of itself. It had been a while since you had been so spacey, and even if it made sense considering the reason why, you still didn’t like it. This wasn’t the place to be absorbed in events of the past or daydreaming of things that would never come to fruition.

Then, the sound of footfalls turns into the sound of water splashing, and you freeze, gaze falling to stare at your boots. The room was tilted slightly, the ground uneven, with a large gaping hole waiting for you in the center. It was filled to the brim with dark water that spilled past the makeshift pit, flooding the area. The concrete flooring had been torn up by something you most certainly didn’t want to run into, rebar bent like it was nothing, and rubble scattered throughout the area.

The door on the other side was out of reach, red dashes on the screen next to it making it known that it was most likely unusable. Your gaze falls to the bright green smoke wafting up from the flare abandoned on the ground, the hairs on your neck standing on end. It was the same color as the entity you had run into before, the one whose gas had made it difficult to breathe, making the world feel like it was closing around you too quickly for you even to comprehend what was going on.

“Kid… you okay?” You hear Chuck call out to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. It helped, the touch that you started not flinching away from, pulling you back into the present. Even though you had died, you weren’t dead right now.

After inhaling deeply through your nose, attempting to keep it as steady as possible, you eventually reply to the concerned-looking Chuck, trying to cover the shakiness of your hands by putting on the breathing mask that was attached to your PDG, “I’ll be okay… just not looking forward to having to dive underwater, is all.”

“Heh, you and me both.” He says with a chuckle, mirroring your movements before placing his own mask over his nose and mouth. You make your way over to the opening with him close behind, both of you looking down into the dark water before Chuck mutters with a sigh, “Well… guess it’s now or never.”

Then, you jump, the icy-cold water splashing around you. You feel your breath knocked out of your lungs, gasping on instinct when your muscles tense as the droplets of water trickle down your cheeks. There are a few muttered curses, and moments pass as the two of you attempt to get used to the sudden chill. The jumpsuit kept most of the biting iciness out, but unfortunately, it didn’t do much to protect the exposed flesh of your face.

After one more supportive pat from Chuck, the two of you dive, swimming through the water as you go deeper and deeper. Pressure builds up inside your ears and presses the mask on your face further into your skin. Eventually, your ears pop, and you can hear the muffled noises of unknown origin echo around you. There was creaking, distant bangs of something hitting against metal, and the occasional sound of bubbles traveling upward through the dimly lit waters.

The water was clear, thankfully, and you were able to see fairly far into the distance in the rooms that were blessed with still-working electricity. Emergency lights illuminated the path while you swam past floating desks and lockers. Then, you see the door, and it is open, but the room beyond it is shrouded in darkness. You stop swimming, turning to look over your shoulder.

Chuck, too, looks a bit reluctant to enter, but neither of you had much of a choice. No matter how terrified you were, you had to keep moving forward. If you failed to overcome your fears, you would either be executed by those who sent you here or consumed and mutilated by the creatures inhabiting the facility. So, you did just that since you weren't particularly fond of the latter options, entering the next room on high alert.

You could barely see two inches in front of you, hands outstretched as your fingers combed through the chilly waters. You could feel the water shifting behind you, ensuring that Chuck was indeed following close behind. Then, you bump into something, its weight hitting you on the shoulder.

For a moment, you thought it was one of the many things you had already seen floating in the water. After all, there had been quite a bit of debris that you had already passed. However, instead of the sharp corner of a desk or the solid feeling of the metal lockers drifting about, whatever had hit you was soft, almost weightless within the brine.

Your brows pinch together, and your hands reach out to inspect the unknown object. Then, when the pads of your fingers brush against chilled skin, you freeze, pulling your hands away as if they had burned you. Your eyes meet theirs, now empty and unfocused, and you remember the way they had looked what seemed like only an hour ago. Any and all life on their face was gone, and their flesh was starting to turn blue, veins visible from under their skin.

You turn to look anywhere but their face, your hands shakily reaching back out to push them away. Fingers press into their squishy torso before you shove them away, watching the way their form floats into the distance, blending back into the darkness. Chuck makes a sound of surprise, flailing around behind you when another body bumps into him, causing bubbles to form from the commotion and rapid movement.

Reaching out, you grab the fabric of his suit, tugging on it to urge him forward. His eyes are wide and his skin is pale, but he nods, and the two of you continue forward quicker than you had been. You swim through room after room, and a sense of nervousness continues to well inside of you.

While your tanks had plenty of air, you weren’t particularly fond of the idea of having to remain underwater for too long, especially considering how muffled everything around you was. If something was coming, there was a high chance you could miss out on the noise that typically alerted you to the creature’s approach.

Your legs moved quicker, hands slicing through the waters as you passed by filing cabinets and desks. You didn’t feel the need to look for research right now, solely focused on finding yourself back on dry land. When your eye catches a glimpse of something green above you, your heart lurches into your throat. No, not now, not when you were underwater–…

Unaware of your internal panic at the shade of smoke above the surface, Chuck drifts past you, breaching the flowing water with a gasp. Your heart stops, ready to reach out to alert him of the monster, but when nothing happens, your fear begins to dissipate. Once you realize it wasn’t an entity, just another flare signaling the location of the exit, you’re quick to swim next to him. Your head pops out of the water before you pull the mask from your nose, breathing in fresh air as your damp hair sticks to your forehead.

Chuck pats your back, saying, “We did it, kid! That wasn’t too bad, yeah?” He doesn’t let you reply before nervously chuckling, “Hope we don’t have to do that again anytime soon, though…”

You both pointedly ignore bringing up what you saw beneath the surface, wading over to the stairs that lead out of the flooded portion of the room, climbing out of the water before shaking your head in an attempt to remove the droplets clinging to you. They trickle down the material of your suit, dripping onto the floor below. Chuck sniffles, wiping his nose off on the back of his sleeve, shivering slightly as he mutters, “Damn, they could have made these things a bit warmer, don't you think?”

“I’m surprised they’re insulated at all.” You muse, holding the material between your thumb and index finger. Then, you look up, legs that felt somewhat numb from the chill urging you forward as you make your way to the door, hand resting on the handle momentarily before finally turning it. It opens with the telltale swoosh, and you glance at the number by the door, the neon green illuminating the bridge of your nose and cheeks – 039. This was the farthest you had ever gotten, and this time, you weren’t alone.

From there, you and Chuck returned to your routine, splitting up and searching desks for files and the occasional keycard or code when the next door required such a thing. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about any and everything that could pop out at you. You now not only had to keep yourself alive, but also the man beside you.

Almost on cue, he speaks, his voice light as Chuck asks, “So, what do you plan on doing after we reach the crystal?”

You glance over at him, his easygoing smile making you simultaneously feel comforted but also encouraging a sense of dread to well up inside of your stomach, traveling up your throat. You swallow it back down, coughing into your fist before speaking quietly, “…I’d like to get a house by the beach, preferably one away from other people.”

“Not a fan of crowds, kid? I think I’d lose my mind living that far away from other people – I need someone whose ear I can talk off.” He says with a hearty laugh, hands resting in the pockets of his jumpsuit. You find yourself smiling, too, but that quickly falls when he probes, “Any family you’d like to see?”

Instantly, your shoulders tense and your mouth presses into a thin line. When you don’t respond, Chuck looks at you, eyes widening as he quickly says, “A-Ah, sorry, kid… Guessing that’s a sore subject, huh?”

“No, it’s… It’s fine.” You reply, attempting to relax your muscles and loosen the tension in your jaw. You reach up, hand rubbing your neck before you ask him, “What about you?”

“Me? Heh – I’ve got quite a few things in mind. My ex-wife always said I dreamed too big for someone my age.” Chuck replies, looking forward as the two of you walk, a sparkle returning to his eyes you hadn’t seen since you had arrived at the blacksite, “Guess the first thing I want to do is see my girls… last time I saw them, they didn’t even reach my hip yet. They’ve probably grown so much since I’ve been gone.”

His jaw clenches, and his thumb reaches up to swipe under his nose. There’s another sniffle, barely audible, before he admits with a smile, “When we get outta here, I’m going to spend all the money they give me on my kids – they deserve the world. I was never able to give it to ‘em before, but after this, things will be different. I'm going to make sure of that." 

Chuck looks at you fondly, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair slightly, the action throwing you for a loop. Your eyes widen on instinct, lips parting as you stare at him, blinking like one would expect from a frog. His expression is gentle, but it quickly changes into one of surprise as well. He looks apologetic, eyebrows furrowed as he says, “Fuck, sorry about that, kid – habit, I swear.”

“No, it’s… It’s okay. I don’t mind, really.” You reply, a strange aching sensation in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if his children knew how much their father loved them, how he talked about them as if they were his entire universe… a part of you, a strange and childish part of you, was almost envious, though there was no time to unpack such emotions right now.

This particular area seemed far more dilapidated than any previous section of the facility you traversed through. The new room you were in appeared as though the ceiling had completely caved in, a large pile of rubble lying in the center and effectively blocking your way. You crane your head to look up, the broken ventilation system hanging loosely above you. 

Carefully, you walk over, hands tugging on the pieces of debris, testing their stability before you even attempt to climb. You raise your leg, foot resting on a makeshift ledge before hoisting yourself up inch by inch, making your way to the crest of the mound. You take a deep breath when you finally make it, straddling the rubble before you turn to the side, hand outstretched as you watch Chuck struggle somewhat with the task.

He looks up at you, grinning at you as he happily takes his hand in yours, saying, “Heh, thanks, kid. This leg of mine might not make walking too difficult, but shit like this is a different story.”

“No problem,” You reply, amused by his words as you help hoist him up. Then, after a moment to catch your breath, the both of you begin to climb down on the other side.

The door opens as they usually did whenever you got close, and you walk inside the next room, multiple consoles with too many buttons to count littering every inch of the area. Multiple swivel chairs had been knocked over, presumably in a hurry when the facility was evacuated. You bend down to pick some of them up, clearing a spot for you and Chuck to safely move around without the worry of tripping over anything. Your muscles were no longer causing you any pain; that strange serum Chuck had given you was helpful in the long run.

Then, suddenly, a voice plays out over the intercom, yet it is not the voice of either entity you expected it to be. Neither Sebastian nor P.AI.nter spoke, but instead, the sound of a familiar Urbanshade personnel echoes through the area. It was the one that reminded you in the beginning of your mission, his voice saying coolly, “You’ll need to make your way through our underwater maintenance tunnels to proceed forward. I just received a notification that NAVI is requesting permission to give you access to the HydroGlide Unit.”

You frown at their words, walking over to the nearby observation window, hands resting against the console as you lean forward. Below was a platform with a handful of what you assumed would be the pieces of equipment needed to traverse the tunnels, hanging on specialized charging units. Beside them was a ramp that led into the pitch-black waters of the deep ocean, the next place you were expected to go. You let out a sigh, realizing there were most likely no other options besides the one the NAVI system had deemed to be the best route.

Chuck moves to stand beside you, staring down at the water, letting out a sigh of his own before muttering lowly, “Guess I spoke too soon, huh? Wasn’t expecting to have to get back into the water again in such a short amount of time… Hell, even my hair is still wet!”

“It will be a faster way to the crystal, apparently, even if you do not have the proper training… but who am I to question an AI’s judgement?” The voice speaks again before adding a quick and somewhat insincere, “Good luck down there.”

The sound of the PA system stops, and once again, it is just you and Chuck against the world. You two make your way to the door, allowing it to open and walking down the metal staircase, the sound of your boots hitting against the plating reverberating through the large area. The ceiling was impossibly tall, and the noise of shallow waves hitting against the sides of the platform brought you back to the area where the submarine docked.

Chuck made his way over to look at the HydroGlide Units while you stared at the water, the light from the walls bouncing off its surface, further distorting the visage of anything else that could potentially be hidden beneath. The thought of there being something beneath the waves alongside you made your hair stand on end. Hastily, you shook your head, trying to rid your mind of such thoughts. Now wasn’t the time, but when had you ever even had a chance to be scared down here?

“These must be those things the guy was telling us about,” Chuck says, hands on his hips as he inspects the somewhat heavyweight pieces of equipment. You, two civilians with absolutely no proper training, were expected to somehow maneuver these? Truly, Urbanshade couldn’t give two shits about the thousands of people they were casually throwing to their deaths.

NAVI’s voice rings out from your gear, saying in a faux-chipper tone, one that was a bit different from other times she had spoken, “Congratulations on completing your glider training! You have been chosen to be part of a select few who have permission to use the glider tubes for the purpose of maintenance and transportation. Please, pick up your glider to prepare for your dive.”

Well, it was now or never, and you didn’t feel particularly inclined to be shot by the PDG for not doing as Urbanshade was ordering you to do. The distant sound of gunfire and screams wasn’t helping much, either. Carefully, you reach forward, grabbing the HydroGlide Unit by the handlebars and heaving it off its charging station. You stumble, caught off guard by the weight of the thing, but Chuck manages to steady you in the moment.

You whisper to him your thanks, and he does the same as you, grabbing his own glider. Making your way to the water, you stare down into it, almost hypnotized by the movement of the surface before it's shattered when Chuck jumps in, water splashing up and rolling down the fabric of your jumpsuit. You’re quick to follow, lowering yourself into the sea, your body shivering at the temperature.

NAVI continues to speak, voice monotonous as she instinctively reads, “I will now be giving you a quick reminder about the safety checklist, which must be followed at all times: Do not turn on the Glider while outside of water. Do not drop the Glider. Do not let go of the handlebars whilst in operation. Do not ram the Glider into walls, or other stationary objects….”

Your mind spaces out after a while, the long list feeling almost unnecessary and dragging on the moment. All you wanted to do was get this over with, make it to the end of the tunnel where you were being directed to, and get to the crystal in one piece.

You eventually come back to when your brain begins processing her speech once more as she states with an air of finality, “Should any of these safety procedures be broken, depending on the severity, it will result in either a pay dock, contractual termination, or your execution. If you wish for a reminder, ask a designated Glider station operator. Swim safely!”

“Let’s hope we don’t need any reminders, eh, kid?” Chuck says, giving you a crooked smirk.

You can’t help but mimic his expression despite the situation, musing, “I certainly hope not… let’s just cross our fingers and pray these things are relatively easy to use, given we passed the training and all.”

“We did pass with flying colors, so it should be a breeze.” Chuck jokes back, and you laugh, putting your breathing mask over your face before turning on the glider. It comes to life, the handlebars trembling slightly under your palms from the now-running engine. You look over one last time at your partner before shooting him a thumbs up, the two of you diving down into the darkness together.

You look over the buttons on the machine, pressing the one adorned with a lightbulb, watching as the dark tunnel is illuminated with a bright light. That was good, you thought, that you weren’t expected to drive this thing completely blind. You could see down the tunnel until it turned, a few places illuminated by a haunting blue glow, the color reminiscent of Sebastian’s eyes.

…Wait, why were you thinking of him right now? You preferably didn’t want to think about the creature you saw whenever you experienced a painful and traumatic death, and you wondered if this was a bad omen.

You didn’t have time to spiral into a panic, watching as Chuck began moving forward, messing with the different settings of the glider. You follow behind, but from a distance, not wanting to run the risk of accidentally hitting him while you, too, attempted to figure out how the thing worked.

Despite how large the tunnels were, they still somehow managed to feel cramped. You and Chuck both pause after making a turn, waiting for the door to open. Once the one in front of you slides open, the one you had just passed through closes, effectively cutting you off from returning to the platform.

So, you continue forward, and if you weren’t underwater right now, your hands most certainly would have been sweating as you held onto the glider like your life depended on it. As you flew through the water, you made turns when necessary, following what you assumed was the recommended path in the labyrinth of the maintenance tunnels. Some areas were sectioned off with grates, and other paths had debris that blocked them from being accessed.

Chuck and you both falter when you see a moving fan blocking the tunnel, but when you realize you cannot lose any momentum, you press on, successfully avoiding the spinning blades. Though your heart drops when you hear the sound of Chuck grunting travel through the water, you turn to look over your shoulder as the color red begins to flood the area.

NAVI makes an unamused, “Ow.”

Chuck, however, just shoots you a thumbs-up, the pain visible on his face. Your brows pinch together before you glance at his arm, the fabric of his suit torn, and a shallow gash present on his shoulder. While it wasn’t a life-threatening injury, it most certainly would not make the mission easier. Your grip tightens on the glider – you needed to get out of here and find medical supplies as soon as you could.

You return to looking ahead, the sound of water rushing past your form the only noise in your ears. The sole thing you were focusing on right now was the expanse of the tunnels before you, mapping out in your mind where you needed to go next if there were any forks in the road. Then, when you see it, your stomach drops and you flinch away, nearly letting go of the glider in the process.  

Whatever it was that had just swum by was giant, luminescent yellow fins and eyes glowing in the low light as it went down the path that you needed to traverse. It hadn’t seemed to have noticed you and your teammate, though, something which you were grateful for. However, knowing you were now down here with another entity, one you would hopefully not run into again, was nerve-wracking.

“What the hell was that?” Chuck’s muffled voice calls out to you. You turn quickly to look at him, pressing your finger to your mask, telling him to be quiet. Neither of you knew if or how this new entity tracked prey, and you didn’t want to run the risk of making any unnecessary noises or vibrations.

Swallowing down any nausea building in your gut, you and Chuck carefully continue, keeping an eye out for anything else swimming within the brine. The water was cold, causing the skin of your fingers to begin turning blue, a numbness forming within any extremity not protected by the suit. It was difficult to keep a firm grip on the glider, especially with the speed at which you were traveling.

When a roar rings out, sounding far too close for comfort, your heartbeat quickens in your chest, and it feels as if it is going to pop at the sudden change in pace. Your head turns to the side, eyes widening when you see the bright white of bone and the shimmering rows of pointed teeth as the creature you had caught a glimpse of mere moments ago launches itself directly at you.

You press the handlebars of the glider forward, straining the metal of the machine, and barely avoiding the maws of the abomination before you, its rotting flesh hanging from the exposed skull of its face like streamers. Chuck had stopped just in time, both of you watching as the creature began to swim in the tunnel parallel to yours, and you knew you couldn’t waste a single moment.

Rocketing through the water, you rush headfirst, pushing the HydroGlide Unit as far as it could possibly go. When the tunnels reconvene, the abomination attempts to take another bite of you, opening its maws as it propels itself with a speed that had your breath catching in your throat. You were lucky, though, when it barely missed your leg, bashing into the wall and allowing Chuck an opportunity to get by.

Everything shakes as you come up on three separate tunnels, the signs above them illuminating the area in varying shades of reds and greens. Your eyes hone onto the middle tunnel, the sign above it the shade of green you had grown used to seeing. Despite being told not to take this route, you didn’t have much of a choice, the others that were deemed safe having been blocked off by fallen rubble.

With a white knuckled grip, you hastily turn the glider, avoiding the moving blades of another fan. Then, a door opens, and the tunnel suddenly ends, leaving you in an endless expanse of darkness. You glance down momentarily, unable to see anything within the space.

The red glow of the mines decorating the open area lights the way, the chains tethering them to the sea floor disappearing into the abyss below. For a moment, you wondered if something was going to swim up and pull you under, but you didn’t have time to think about what could be hidden below when you had something right on your heels.

Soon, you’re back inside a tunnel, watching as something detonates in the distance, causing debris to fall and block most of your path. Hastily, you jerk the glider to the side, avoiding a large piece of concrete coming from the crumbling infrastructure around you. There were more turns, ones that nearly had you crashing into the wall, and more moving blades you barely managed to avoid.

One, however, cuts into the flesh of your ankle, causing tears to form in your eyes. Your blood leaves a ribbon of crimson behind you, one that the beast could easily follow. With the adrenaline coursing through your veins, though, you could barely feel a single thing, even when NAVI’s voice calls out, “Impact detected! Salary: docked.”

You grit your teeth, wishing you could throw the AI into the maws of the monster instead, but, unfortunately, the machine was the only way you were able to outrun it in the first place. Ahead, another door opens, and you’re thrown into the open ocean again, something above you lighting the area with spotlights.

You look up, watching in horror as the machine above walks through the trenches of the seabed like they were nothing, the size of it larger than anything you had ever seen before. However, you’re brought back to reality when a red warning symbol appears on the holographic screen of the glider, NAVI calling out to you, “Danger!”

Turning around, you see the creature, yet you do not see Chuck. Your eyes hone in on the navy blue fabric hanging from the monster’s teeth, though your brain does not comprehend what you’re seeing, jerking the handles to the side just as it rushes forward, attempting to take a chunk out of you.

It swims beside you, glowing yellow eyes staring down at your much smaller form, and the world slows for a moment. Just as you thought, the bone of its face was completely devoid of any skin, and sharp spikes cut through the creature’s flesh like a knife. Urbanshade was truly something, wasn’t it, putting everyone who found themselves in the company’s care under some type of pain and torture?

The abomination begins swimming behind you once more, the rumble of its growling traveling through the water, the frequency causing your skin to feel colder than the water ever could. NAVI continues to alert you whenever it tries to make another attempt at your life, something which you were grateful for as you pushed the glider forward, the machine shuddering under you, desperately trying to hold on.

In the distance, you see a dim green light, rushing towards it all while avoiding the sudden and unpredictable movements of the beast. The world shook whenever it swam, causing you to lose control of the machine whenever the rush of water threw you around like a ragdoll. You found yourself smiling at the sight, a tunnel coming into view just as you successfully avoided yet another one of the creature’s lunges. Whatever it was chasing you was still there, even in the tunnels, but now, it only had one direction to attack you from.

There were more spinning blades to avoid, more explosions that had debris falling down on you. A stray piece of shrapnel flies toward you at an alarming speed, and you duck just in time, the piece of metal grazing your head. The reddening water was getting darker and darker behind you, a trail of breadcrumbs the beast could follow, but you didn’t care. You just needed to live.

The tubes that lined the tunnels begin to shake, their bolts popping from the pressure, before steam begins to fill the space. A cry leaves your throat when the burning hot water hits your flesh, causing boils to form nearly immediately on your skin. There’s more blood, more pain that was numbed by the adrenaline, but it was okay. You would be perfectly fine, the ache dissipating when the cold chill of the ocean returns.

The tunnel leads into a rocky area, pipes connecting one side of the facility to the other, lights illuminating the seemingly natural space. Every time you avoid the follow-up attack, the creature crashes into the pillars of stone, causing everything to shake with each impact. Your eyes are honed into the lanterns, leading the way to what you hoped would be the end. It felt as though your hands were gone, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could go on like this.

More dodging, more rumbling, more losing control of the glider you knew was on its last legs. Then, you see it, what looks like the end of the tunnels, water rushing out of a broken grate. There’s a sudden jolt, the machine rocketing forward as the creature takes another shot at consuming you whole. When your hands slip away from the handles, your heart stops.

No, no – not now, not when you were so close. You kick your legs frantically, moving your arms forward and back as you scrabble through the water, desperately reaching out to the glider. When your fingers grip onto the machine, it jerks forward, pulling you the final ten meters.

You feel a sense of relief for a moment, a weightlessness overtaking you, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. Then, you realize you’re falling, and everything that was happening comes crashing down onto you. You watch in horror as the ground gets closer and closer before you painfully land on your stomach, the urge to vomit stronger than ever.

Your face crashes into the floor, causing your mask to break. The jagged edges of the now broken glass digging into the flesh of your cheeks and forehead, blood cascading down your chin and jaw, trickling down our neck and staining the blue of your suit purple. Your arms push to flip you around, watching as the creature that had been chasing you flies out of the broken tunnel, hitting against the platform with a force that felt as though there was an earthquake happening.

It scrambles for a moment, trying to force itself toward you, but eventually falls into the abyss below. You’re gasping, drowning in the air around you, a mixture of blood and water forming underneath your form. The glider rests a few feet away from you, sparking as NAVI’s distorted voice calls out, “Reminder: letting go of the glider is both unsafe for your health and the glider.”

For a moment, you find yourself unable to move, staring at the water that gushes like a waterfall from the broken grate of the tunnel. You wait, hoping and praying that Chuck would appear. He would probably make a joke before pointing out how rough you look, helping you walk as you two find a place to rest and dress the wounds you had managed to receive.

However, he never does. Your bottom lip quivers for a moment as you lie down on your back, hands curling into your hair as you tug on the strands. You run them down your face, taking a moment to breathe as you begin to pick the shards of glass from your skin before forcing yourself to stand on trembling legs. The cut on your ankle didn’t manage to sever the Achilles tendon, thankfully, so walking, despite being painful, wasn’t an impossible task.

Everything is muffled as you limp pitifully onward, going through the motions like you were an android solely focused on the objective given to you. It was habitual at this point, and that fact had a bitter taste forming on your tongue. You hated this place, and you hated Urbanshade even more.

You wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, take a moment to be pathetic and wallow in your sorrows; you wondered if any of the entities here would want to be invited to your pity party. Then, there was another part of you that wanted to slam your fist against the wall and take all of your anger out on his horrible facility you never wanted to step foot into again. However, even though your mind was hazy and nothing was quite making sense right now, you knew that wouldn’t be a smart idea. You were already injured, and you didn’t need to make your life even harder than the universe already was.

“Wow, you look horrible.” A voice calls out to you. Slowly, you turn to look at the familiar face adorning a nearby screen. It takes you a moment to realize P.AI.nter was talking to you, that smug expression slowly turning into one that looked almost uncomfortable, the longer it takes you to respond.

You swallow thickly, your mouth and throat uncomfortably dry as you ask him, “Where is… Sebastian? I… I need supplies.”

He scoffs at your question, rolling his eyes before declaring with a smirk, “Why should I tell you? I’m supposed to make your life harder, not easier – or does your pea-sized brain not remember that?”

P.AI.nter continues speaking, telling you, “Why don’t you ask… hmm?”

There’s a pause as he glances around, his newly drawn expression conveying confusion. Then, his gaze falls back on your beaten and battered form, questioning, “Hey, where’s that one expendable that follows you around like a lost puppy? I don’t see him anywhere.”

You can’t stop it this time around, the tears you had attempted to keep at bay finally spilling past your lashes. They trickle down your face, becoming red as they pick up the blood that was smeared across your skin, rolling down your jaw and neck before either being absorbed by your clothing or dripping on the floor. Your trembling hands come up to hide your expression behind your palms, shoulders shaking as you quietly sob in front of the rogue AI.

“W-Woah, uh… okay, this is, umm… unexpected.” P.AI.nter says, his voice one of surprise before it melts into one of someone who had no idea what to do.

Surely, he had run into his fair share of expendables who broke down under the weight of it all, right? Was it really all that shocking that you were crying, especially right after pointing out the fact that you were once again alone, despite everything you had done to keep everyone alive? That you had failed them – failed Chuck.

You cry harder, heart painfully beating within your ribcage. You wish it would stop, or that something would rip it out for you. P.AI.nter makes a sound almost like he’s choking before letting out a groan, “Uuugghhh – fine, fine! Sebastian is just up ahead… about three or four more rooms.”

When you lift your head, his visage is gone from the screen, the number of the room the only thing now visible. There’s no glitching, no sign that there was actually a trap waiting for you on the other side. Hesitantly, you reach out, and the door opens to reveal a normal room, a hallway illuminated with artificial light.

You wipe away any remaining tears from your face, their saltiness causing the cuts on your cheeks to sting ever so slightly. With your sleeve, you attempt to rid your face of any more snot or blood, leaving your clothing looking a lot worse for wear. Then, with one last glance, you mutter under your breath, knowing the machine could hear you, “…Thank you, P.AI.nter.”

P.AI.nter wasn’t lying when he said Sebastian was only a few more rooms away, either. You notice the open vent on the wall, though this time, it was to your right instead of your left, the entrance underneath the spotlight of a nearby lamp. Slowly, you lower yourself to the floor, feeling as though you were going to pass out any second. The adrenaline was gone, replaced with the sensation of an indescribable exhaustion.

As you crawled forward, one hand over the other, you heard Sebastian speaking, though it was clear he wasn’t talking to you. His voice got clearer and clearer the closer you got, his tone strangely soft as he asks, “Hey, you know that person we were talking about earlier? Can you get me their location?”

Then, you hear P.AI.nter reply, sounding somewhat nervous, “Uhhhh… right in front of me?”

Just as you enter the makeshift shop, still shrouded in shadow, you watch as Sebastian’s form tenses, his voice lowering as he tells whoever was with P.AI.nter, “Hey, bub. Let’s not do anything you’re going to regret, okay?”

When he notices your presence, most likely by the sound of your jumpsuit shifting as you stand back up, he lowers the volume on the walkie-talkie. His other hand reaches up to pull at the light that grew from his head, illuminating the space so you could properly see everything. You look up at him while he stares down at you, saying, “Oh, it’s you… Welcome back. Feel free to look at what I have.”

You only nod in response before walking over to his tail, glancing at the items attached to it with belts and buckles. There was a medkit, just like the one before, but this one looked a bit worse for wear than the last one had been. One of its claps was completely gone, and there was gauze sticking out from the side, the surface of it scuffed up. Though you were hardly in a position to complain, and this one was cheaper than the one Chuck had bought. You fish out the needed research before handing it to Sebastian and collecting your item, who counts them before giving you the go-ahead to retrieve it. 

Your legs drag behind you, finding a place across the room to sit down and begin patching yourself up. Popping open the lid, your shoulders deflate upon seeing how little was in this one. There was a half-used roll of gauze, an empty tube of antibacterial ointment, and the strange serum that had managed to perk you right up was half gone, the needle attached to it clearly having been used previously.

“Where… Where is everything?” You ask, looking up at Sebastian, an expression of displeasure apparent on your features.

He merely rolls his eyes at you, brushing his hair out of his face and tucking it behind his fin before stating, “You think I just have unlimited access to fresh and clean medical supplies?” He scoffs at the thought, telling you coldly, “Everything I sell was scavenged, and that is all I managed to find this time around. Maybe next time, you should be more careful.”

You don’t have the energy or desire to argue back, gritting your teeth as you use what was left. You roll up the sleeve of your jumpsuit, not wanting to unzip it and take it off as you had done before. There was no one here to help you this time – you were on your own.

After wiping off the needle with a disinfectant wipe and tying the tourniquet around your shoulder, you bite down on your tongue before spearing it into your arm, injecting the fast-acting healing agent into your bloodstream. Once the vial was completely empty, you removed the needle from your flesh, tossing it haphazardly into the medical kit before you began to either bandage or put any remaining ointment you could squeeze out of the tube on any other injury you had sustained.

When you glance up at Sebastian, he’s pointedly not looking at you, instead picking at the skin around the claws that grew from his fingertips. Lowly, you mutter, “Why are you… doing this?”

He looks down at you and scoffs, replying snarkily, “You need to be more specific, you know. Why am I doing what?”

“Why are you helping me – helping the other expendables?” You clarify as you try to simultaneously look at Sebastian, your hands holding the gauze while you do your best to dress the deep cut sustained to your ankle. You were trying not to stare at the wound too much, the fact that you were able to see the red of your exposed muscle indicating you probably needed stitches, causing your stomach to turn.

“Oh, please, I’ve told you what I do isn’t out of the kindness of my own heart. I’m simply doing what was asked of me.” Sebastian tells you, a look of disgust flashing across his face at the mere notion that he was helping you of his own free will. Then, he smiles and adds, “Plus, it’s not like I’m getting nothing out of it… You idiots make gathering research a breeze.”

“When you say it was asked of you, I’m assuming it was by him, right?” You say, voice soft, wanting some more clarification. Despite previously wanting answers to every question that had been swimming in your head, you couldn’t even remember half of what you wanted to ask Sebastian before, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t frustrate you.  

Sebastian raises a single brow at your words, his smirk crooked as he muses sarcastically, “Ah, so you do listen sometimes. Color me impressed.”

You glance down at your hands, the gauze resting between your fingers nearly gone as you tie what you had managed to wrap around your ankle in a tight knot. You swallow, wondering if the next question that was going to leave your mouth would result in you being kicked out of his shop altogether. You fidget with the bandages in your grasp, muttering, “…Why did you tell P.AI.nter to delay the retrieval of the crystal?”

Sebastian’s smirk falls at your mention of P.AI.nter, confirming in your mind his attachment to the AI. The third hand that hung loosely at his side balled into a fist, his nails digging slightly into the flesh of his palm before hissing out a low, “…What?”

“He told me when we met you promised to get him out of here, and all he had to do was keep us from getting to the end.” You clarify, turning your body to face him. Your brows furrow, and for a moment, the feeling of numbness and guilt is replaced with a fiery sensation as you demand, “So, why? Why are you prolonging our suffering – my suffering?”

“I have my reasons.” He replies without missing a beat. When Sebastian notices the change in your tone, he sneers down at you, that smug expression crossing his face again as he tells you, “Don’t take it so personally, yeah?”

You let out a huff, using what was left of the antibacterial ointment on the variety of lacerations on your face, mumbling under your breath in response, “P.AI.nter picks up a lot of his verbal quirks from you, doesn’t he? That same cocky tone, the same choice of callous words…”

“Watch it, expendable.” Sebastian says the word lowly, a reminder of your position, mocking you and the situation you had found yourself in. You shot him a glare of your own, hands pausing in their ministrations as you held back the desire to chuck the now completely empty tube of ointment at his face.   

He scowls, adding with a flippant wave of one of his hands, “You’re getting far too comfortable – buy whatever else you want and get out. My shop isn’t meant to be a safe haven for you.”

Knowing better than to truly pick a fight with the being before you, you simply grit your teeth, making your way back over to the exit. The serum flowing through your veins was aiding in reducing the full-body ache you had been experiencing. You only had a few more rooms to go before reaching the lowest level and the crystal, even though you would be heading back to the surface alone.

Though before you could leave, you heard the faint sound of P.AI.nter’s voice over the speaker of the walkie-talkie. You don’t know why, but you pause, glancing over your shoulder as the fins on the side of Sebastian’s head perk up at the voice.

P.AI.nter sounded… nervous. It was a new tone to his slightly staticky voice, one you hadn’t heard from him yet, as he says, “Hey… What are we doing? What are… you doing?”

Then, all too suddenly, the nervousness ignites into fear as he cries out, “Help… Help! Sebasti—!” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the audio cuts out completely; the only thing left is the faint mutter of someone else on the other end. Your ears strain, the sound of the person's voice familiar to your ears, but you know that wasn't right. They were dead.  

“Kid, what the hell was that?” Sebastian says, holding the communication device in his hand, and you can see the way his fingers tremble slightly. The way he uttered the word kid had the hole in your chest widening, an empty sensation expanding across your body. It was painful, how Chuck’s absence had hurt you so deeply.  

“P.AI.nter?” The voice of Sebastian cuts through your thoughts, sounding more panicked than you have ever heard him. A part of you, some horrible part of you, thought he deserved it. He had caused you so much grief, his words and actions having caused more suffering for all expendables, so it was only fair he got to experience that same level of fear that you had felt throughout this entire mission.

However, you immediately come to regret your twisted thoughts, the sound of NAVI’s voice chirping to life over the PA system, “This is a site-wide announcement! I am happy to report that the parasite messing with my systems has been neutralized, and operations are now at an acceptable level. The Internal Defense System, as well as any other previously hijacked systems, will no longer pose a threat to personnel.”

It comes crashing down on you, knowing exactly what that meant. Still, you crane your head back to look up, muttering, “S… Sebastian, what was…?”

When he looks at you, the expression on his face has your blood running cold. His eyes were black, those small, blue pinpricks staring at you, his sharp teeth gritting together. You back up, attempting to crawl out of the room, watching in horror as he reaches for the shotgun attached to his waist while you cry out, “Wait, no, I didn’t–!”

You hear the bang before the searing pain of a bullet cracks open the bone of your skull, tearing the matter of your brain to pieces before exiting through the back. Your body collapses into a bloody heap, the feeling similar to when your PDG detonated in the submarine. The fear dissolves into a strange feeling of peace before, all too suddenly, anger is the only thing you can feel.

With a gasp, you sit up straight in the chair, head pounding, and the faint ringing in your ears lingering from the sound of the gun going off. Your brain felt like mush, and if you weren’t careful, it would start leaking out of your nose and ears. Forcing your eyes open, you see three blue ones staring back at you.

You scowl at Sebastian, attempting to reach over the desk to grab him by the collar of his shirt, but he easily pins your arms down to the wooden surface with a single hand. You flail about, attempting to free yourself as you scream, tears forming in your eyes as you curse at the man in front of you, “Why the hell would you do that!? I was almost there, you fucking asshole! I was going to get out – be free, and you screwed it up for me, you prick!”

“Watch your tone with me, you brat.” He hisses, leaning forward so you could see the way the light on his head illuminated the scales of his cheeks, glittering almost beautifully in the warm light. His face was close to yours, almost too close as he sneers, “I’m here to give you information that you can choose to use however you wish – I’m not here to hold your hand through every little thing.”

“I’m not asking for you to hold my hand, I’m asking why you shot me when I was so close!” You snap back, forcing your face nearer to his. You wanted to show him that you weren’t going to back down so easily, your nose barely brushing against his before crying out, “I had nothing to do with what just happened! I didn’t tell anyone to–…!”

You didn’t have time to finish your thought before he says lowly, the tone sending a shiver down your spine. One of his three hands darts forward to press his palm to your lips, his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks before he growls, “Shut up. Now.”

There was a childish part of your mind that wanted to lick his hand, but you fought against the urge. The beating of your heart in your chest was too heavy, and the cold sensation coursing over your entire body was enough of a sign for you to not push your luck. After all, what would happen if he killed you again before you even got the chance to be brought back to life?

When you didn’t try to say anything else, he slowly removed his hand from your face, standing up straight on the opposite side of the desk before wiping it off on the fabric of his shirt. Your wrists are released from his hold, too, and you pull them back, rubbing the reddening skin from all the pressure he had put on your joints. He doesn’t speak, either, and an awkward stretch of silence goes on for far too long.

You cough into your fist, clearing your throat before asking earnestly, “…Do I get a file on you this time around, then?”

“Hah! You wish.” Sebastian replies smoothly, dangling a closed file in front of your face, that stupid smirk once again plastered across his face, “If you want that, you need to have a bit more research the next time we see each other to purchase it.”

You could feel it, a strange sensation pulling at you, almost like it was urging you to get moving. Then, Sebastian looks at you, reaching up to turn off the light, the only thing you could see now within the darkness being the soft light emanating from his eyes. He whispers, his voice barely audible as the faint sound of people talking gets louder and louder, “…Also, tell that friend of yours next time, if he’s hitting with the intent to kill, he needs to make sure he does it properly.”

Then, the ground under your feet suddenly gives way. Sebastian’s voice echoes in your head, the realization of what he was saying hitting you like a bus. If what he was saying was true, that meant that…

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

You smell the smoke of the cigarette in your hand before you see it, vision slightly blurry as the dull throbbing in your forehead causes you to wince. Habitually, you bring it to your lips, taking a long drag before putting it out on the concrete block you had perched on. It falls from your fingertips shortly after, your body hunched over as you hold your head in your hands, eyes closed in an attempt to ease the pounding of your skull.

That was the farthest you had gotten, and all the suffering you had been made to endure was all for naught. You would have to do it over again, and the only thing you could do was hope that, this time around, you wouldn’t have to experience everything you did previously.

You weren’t going to become attached to anyone again, for there was no point in doing so. No matter what alliances you made, the pain of their inevitable demises wasn’t worth the brief moments of comfort you felt. You were going to promise yourself to not make that mistake again, but your eyes fly open when that familiar voice calls out to you, “Hey, kid, you doing alright? You look a little unwell.”

Despite it all, despite wanting to throw any and all feelings toward the other expendables away, to force yourself to forget any moments previously shared, you couldn’t stop the tears that fell down your face at the sound of Chuck’s voice. Even your body moved without you thinking, rushing over to the man and throwing your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

He makes a noise of surprise as you silently cry into his shoulder. You knew you didn’t have to look to know everyone else was staring at you, but you didn’t care. Chuck, after a brief moment, pats your back, his touch as careful as it always had been. Quietly, he mutters to you, “…It’ll be okay, kid. I’m sure the mission won’t be as bad as you’re expecting.”

It hurts you, knowing how little he was aware of everything. That you had experienced his death twice now, and that, no matter how hard you tried, you had yet to get him to the end. You wanted to, though, the dumbest and most sentimental part of you wanted to help those around you.

Sebastian was right – you were an idiot, but maybe that was something you could be proud of. Something that highlighted your humanity, something that, all things considered, showcased you weren’t like some of the expendables sent down alongside you.

With your hands balled into the fabric of his jumpsuit, you pull away, wiping your face with your sleeve, eyes steeled as another blaze of determination to change fate flows through your body. Whatever expression was on your face now caught Chuck by surprise, having gone from looking like a lost child to a soldier who was ready to sacrifice anyone to keep those you cared for safe. Even though it wasn’t something you wanted to do, you knew it was necessary, even if it resulted in more blood on your hands.

Chapter Text

Hello readers! I just wanted to thank everyone for the support this fic has received. All of your wonderful comments and kind words have meant the world to me and have given me the drive to keep writing. ❤️

I was on-call at my job last week (which typically sucks the life out of me; it's not a fun time lmao), so this week's chapter may be delayed by another day or two! I'm still working on writing it, and, much like the last chapter, chapter 9 is going to be another longer one. I'm already at 5k words and am not even halfway finished yet... 😳

I just wanted to be transparent and let you know about the slight change in schedule! I'm going to continue working on it after I am freed from my horrendous 9-5 prison, and hopefully, I'll have it finished and proofread in the next couple of days. Thank you all again, and have a great day/night! 

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Update (08/12/25): The next chapter will most likely be delayed by a week, so the new release date should be August 18th!

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Update (08/18/25): ...Nothing went as planned, so I'm still writing Chapter 9. Work has been draining me of everything these past few weeks, so I'm going to do my best and lock in so the chapter is finished by next Monday (August 25th). Sorry again for the delay of the chapter, especially two weeks in a row. 😔