Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first expendable to ever reach the crystal was incredibly lucky. The alignment of chance, happenstance, and the misfortune of others allowed that poor soul to make it farther than any one before them.

They were sent down as a squad of four, standard operations, as far as the Blacksite lockdown was concerned. Told to collect stray data, ordered to find and retrieve the crystal (warned of danger, though never explicitly told what that danger may be). None of them truly trusted each other, but they held a wary truce. All of them had seen what happened to those who disobeyed a direct order, or were too disruptive. They each knew that, to survive, they could not risk drawn out arguments or any kind of betrayal.

(And how fortunate, that they all silently agreed to this, how lucky that their inherent personalities did not cause immediate contention)

Their first encounter with the dangers of the Blacksite came when one of their member sought to search a locker for data (or supplies, one of them found a flashlight earlier). They had had no issues with lockers before this, so when the violet tendrils dragged him into the locker, all of them were taken off guard. One of the others was quick to pull him free, and their leader (in terms of walking position, none of them were really 'in charge') noted the visible eyes through the slats of the locker. All of them were careful to check, after that.

(How fortunate, that she noticed, how lucky that they encountered this early)

Their next encounter with danger came when one of them heard a faint screaming, growing ever-closer. All of them ducked into a side room, in the hope that if they are out of sight, perhaps it will not kill them.

(How fortunate, that they were correct, how lucky that one of them later suggested lockers may serve the same purpose)

Their third encounter left them with one less member of their crew. Their leader had drawn further ahead than was truly safe, and paid the price. A clatter from the room ahead, (an eerie green light that was gone by the time they reached the door). They found her collapsed against a desk facing a window, her eye melted out of its socket.

(How fortunate, that one of them hypothesised that looking at the green light may cause this, how lucky that they noted her corpse facing the window)

A Turret was the next new obstacle. It caught one of them off guard and out of cover, managing to land a shot through his leg before he shut it off.

(How fortunate, that it missed hitting any arteries, how lucky that they had a medkit on hand)

They were making slow but steady progress, checking lockers and hiding when the screams came, keeping their eyes away from the windows, moving decisively to shut down any further turrets encountered. They helped their wounded fellow through rubble and debris, kept scavenging for supplies and data as they moved onwards. Their new frontman stepped up to open the next door only to find a monster behind it. He was dragged in, before the door slammed shut.

(How fortunate, that the door closed instead of remaining open, how lucky that the final two learned to listen for danger beyond the screams)

The Lunar Dock was their most challenging encounter yet, searchlights roaming the area, a haunting glow hunting for food. The pair moved carefully and stuck together. One of them was wounded, after all. Better to ensure he could move fast enough to remain unseen than split up to fix the malfunctioning generators.

(How fortunate, that there was a corpse to demonstrate how the creature hunted, how lucky that few generators actually needed repairs)

They were nearing the final doors, when they heard something different. Not the high pitched scream of the creature that blasted through hallways with reckless abandon, something softer and more sinister than that. A choir of mournful wailing, slower moving than the creature they'd taken to calling 'Screamer'. The pair were quick to find a locker in which to hide, the injured man getting first dibs while the other sprinted further to find another hiding spot, a side room in the next area. Then the mournful note to the wailing changed, higher pitches and a tinge of what almost seemed to be excitement. A horrible ruckus from the previous hallway, metal screeching before the wails returned to their mournful song. The creature passed by and further in, and our lone expendable rushed back to their comrade. All they found was the bloodstained wreckage of the locker they'd hid him in.

(How fortunate, that they'd found that side room, how lucky that the creature did not continue down the path they needed to follow to reach the crystal.)

Five doors.

Four.

Three.

Hide from a Screamer.

Two... One.

They crossed the massive bridge connecting the previous area to the massive room that held the crystal. Across the chasm, a Screamer raced along another path, away from the crystal. They made their way into the room, and from there into the containment chamber proper. They collected the crystal. The power went out. They continued forwards.

(How fortunate, that they knew to pause to listen at each door, how lucky that the Screamer had gone in the opposite direction)

Their progress through the ridge was meticulous, up until they came across a door requiring a keycard. It was only a matter of time before another Screamer arrived. They did not hear the footsteps until it was too late.

(How unfortunate)

They managed to get their arm between the concrete humanoid's mouth and their neck before it could take a bite.

(How lucky)

They managed to throw it off and get to a locker before the Screamer they heard approaching reached them. When they exited, the humanoid was dead.

(How fortunate)

Their arm was bleeding heavily. It must have managed to sever an artery.

(How unlucky)

They stumbled their way into an out-of-the-way corner, and sat. Gingerly, they removed the containment capsule from where it rested in the small of their back, and gazed at the crystal resting within. Blood-slick fingers tapped it, smudging the glass. So much effort, for so small a thing. They did not see the green man approaching them as their vision faded. They did not feel his hand on their shoulder when they took their last breath. All they saw was that orange glow, all they felt was the emanated warmth from the capsule.

(How fortunate, they were, to make it this far.)

(How unlucky, to catch the attention of a creature like H̱̝͘҉i͎̟͒̏҉͝m̵̸͠.)

Chapter Text

You wake to the sound of metal striking metal. The loud CLANG jolts you upright, and around you you can hear other people complaining and murmuring about the loud noise. The room you are in is small for the number of people currently in it, with cold concrete walls only broken up by a single door from which the clanging sound originated. Everyone is wearing strange orange jumpsuits, with their hands cuffed in front of them. An experimental tug proves your wrists to be in the same state.

"OI, line up nice and orderly!" A grumbly, gravelly voice shouts from behind the door. "And no funny business! Any of you try som'thin and my buddies'll put a cap in yer brain!"

The others around you are quick to comply, shuffling and shoving a bit, but ultimately lining up in front of the door. You end up towards the back of the line, shifting nervously.

(You... dont remember how you got here.)

But you have no time to really ponder this, as the door opens and the line of people is lead out and down some hallways. Heavily armed and masked guards flank the procession on either side, lightly shoving those they deem too slow, or out of line in any way. The walk is short, though you dont remember how many turns you took to get to the room you are now in. (You dont remember how you got here).

The procession is lined up facing a sort of upraised platform. (its not very tall, perhaps about a foot off the ground.) Atop the platform stands a single guard and a projector, the guard having slightly different armour than the rest. He clears his throat, and the projector flickers on.

"You all signed the contract, you know why you're here. The object Z-2, henceforth referred to as 'The Crystal', is contained in a reactor shaft housed on the edge of the Ridge." The projector shows a picture of what you assume to be said reactor shaft, before swapping to an image of a bright orange crystal in some sort of... containment cylinder.

"Unlike other portions of the Blacksite, The Ridge does not have submarine docking bays, or at least, none that are safe to access. Because of this, we will be splitting you into five teams of four and sending you down to the five 'safe' docks we have located nearest to the Crystal." A map flickers into place, though you can't make much sense of it beyond five circled areas that are probably the docks.

"Due to the lockdown, a few anomalous and dangerous creatures have been set loose, and several portions of the Blacksite have been heavily damaged." Several pictures of damaged rooms and hallways are shown, though, notably, none of them contain anything you would consider a 'creature'.

"You will each be equipped with Personal Diving Gear to navigate the flooded portions of the Blacksite, and as insurance. Each PDG is equipped with a detonator. Disobey orders and we will set it off."

He makes a gesture and several of the guards begin to move towards the line.

"HQ will give you more info once you have reached your assigned docks. Dismissed."

The guards are quick to herd all of you into four-man squads before leading the entire group of 20 to a locker room. You dont get much time to process anything before you have been uncuffed, ordered to strip, and shoved into uniform of some sort. Once the group is dressed, several distinctly non-guard personnel file in, carrying what you assume are the PDGs. They wrangle each of you into one, and give a short rundown on how to make use of them for underwater traversal. You barely catch any of it, thoughts whirling wildly as you try to process... all of this.

You run on autopilot, blankly following the (what you realize now is a) prisoner in front of you. (how did you get here, why cant you remember)

It isnt long before your group of four stands in front of a small submarine of some sort. You hear one of the guards explaining... something before shoving an item into one of your squadmates' chest. It's hard to pay attention, when a sick feeling of dread has started to build in your gut. The hatch of the submarine feels threatening, as the four of you step inside. Blankly, you grab one of the handles hanging from the ceiling before the vessel casts off and submerges. The others have settled themselves as well, but you've stopped paying attention to them.

Have you been here before..? Why else would the hatch feel like a death sentence? You cast your mind back, trying to recall... Something. Anything.

...Nothing comes to mind. (do you even remember your name?)

Your maudlin thoughts are interrupted by a sudden shout and someone bumping into you. Blinking back to awareness, you tune in to what the others are saying.

"No, I dont give a FUCK what you all think! I'm not going to put up with being sent on some... Suicide mission!!" He's gesturing wildly, after having presumably shoved the person into you.

"Dude, chill-"

"NO! I'm not going to 'chill' about this!!" He takes a heaving breath, before something sly sparks in his eyes. "I'm going to hijack this submarine, and go home."

"Woah woah wait thats-" The guy he shoved into you starts, lunging toward him as he makes his way over to the console. The other person in the ship also starts to stand, reaching out to grab the mans arm. Neither get very far, though; Shouty guy lays out the lady with a punch to the face and shoves the other guy into you again, this time sending you both tumbling to the floor.

"Don't-" the guy on top of you's words are cut off as the maniac lays hands on the console, a robotic voice emanating from the ceiling interrupting his plea.

"Unauthorised personnel detected. Please step back from the console."

He ignores the voice, continuing to do... something. Its hard to see, from your position on the floor.

"Seeing as you cannot listen to simple instructions, you clearly do not have the cognitive function required to complete your tasks"

Something in the ceiling whirrs, and the guy on top of you lets out a choked gasp.

"Please stand by for exectution."

And then your ears are ringing, deafened by... gunshots..? (In a submarine???)

The ceiling whirrs again, clicking closed as the man finally deigns to get up and stop pinning you to the floor. Something by your ankles feels... wet, as you sit up. The guy is shaking, silent shuddering sobs wracking his shoulders as he stares at the corpse of Shouty Guy. You're still a bit winded, having fallen back onto your oxygen tanks and then having a whole man (and his oxygen tanks) land on your gut. The lady seems unperturbed, getting up and sitting back down on one of the less bloodspattered seats. You gingerly get up, averting your eyes from the body as you move closer to the hatch. (Something like this was inevitable. One of you had to die first)

Neither you nor the lady try to comfort the crying man.

Chapter Text

By the time the submarine reaches the Blacksite dock, Crying Guy has calmed down. He's clearly not okay, but he's... coping. You're just glad to be getting away from the corpse. (Tough Lady is... You're not sure what she's thinking. Her face is... indifferent, beneath the growing bruise.)

The same feminine robotic voice that heralded Shouty Guy's death speaks up again, accompanied by a chime.

"Now arriving, please stand back from the hatch."

Disembarking is a quiet affair, Tough Lady being the one to step out first with yourself not far after. Crying Guy lags behind a bit, sending one last lingering glance at Shouty Guy's corpse before fully stepping off of the submarine. It's quiet, save for the sound of the submarine leaving- then the PA chimes again.

"As discussed during your briefing, your primary objective is to secure and bring back the crystal." The voice gives no greeting or introduction.

"Before you departed, one of you was handed a container to be used to house the Crystal if... when... you reach it." You blink, then glance at Tough Lady. Theres a sort-of cylinder thing tucked beneath her oxygen tanks against the small of her back. That's the container, you suppose.

"Your secondary objective is to secure as many loose assets as possible. Along with the Crystal containment unit, you should have been given a watertight bag in which to store these assets. Do not lose either of these." Tough Lady holds up a bag you didn't notice earlier, before tossing it to you. You guess it's your job to hold onto the data..? Whatever.

"Our Navi-path AI system has marked the shortest route possible from your current location to the crystal. By each door, there should be a screen displaying a number, counting down the closer you are to your objective. Do not stray from the Navi-path; doing so will be considered dissertion, and result in the detonation of your PDG."

Crying Guy shudders a bit at the implication.

"Some doors may be locked by a panel that requires a keycard or passcode. Search the surrounding area and if you do not find either, radio in so we can adjust the Navi-path." Tough Lady had wandered off to explore the docking area at this point, and holds up a keycard she found in one of the drawers. That seems insecure, but you're not in charge of this place so it doesnt really matter much.

"If you find any useful equipment along your path, you have full permission to make use of it. Make note that from this point on, you will mostly be left on your own, as we are busy managing multiple retrieval teams. Open the door, and proceed." The PA shuts off.

"...Alright,"  Tough Lady twirls the keycard in her fingers. "Follow me."

She steps up to the door, not checking to see if you or Crying Guy are following. Guess she's the leader, then. You trot over, Crying Guy not far behind. (Best make sure she doesnt get too far ahead.)

The first two rooms pass in silence, the three of you splitting up to search drawers and cabinets- dumping whatever 'stray assets' are found into the bag- and grouping up before entering the next room.

It's at door 97 that Crying Guy speaks up.

"I uh, didn't get the chance to ask, before. What's your name? Both of you," He glances at you as he says this.

The question stops thought in its tracks. What is your name? You... can't remember. You didnt realize before, didn't take the time to ponder your sense of self before getting dragged down here. What is your name? Tough Lady's answer and Crying Guy's response are both drowned out in the static of missing memory. What is your name? It has to be in here somewhere, right? You can't have forgotten something so important, so integral- cold fingers dig and claw at the white noise where memory should be but find no purchase. Where is it, where is it--

Sound and movement-

You blink back to awareness (again), and find that Tough Lady has placed a hand on your shoulder- her other snapping in front of your eyes. Crying Guy lingers in the background, peering worriedly at your face from over her shoulder. You open your mouth, to explain, to deflect, but no sound comes out.

Tough Lady eyes you carefully, before releasing you and stepping back.

"Let's go."

Crying guy starts to say something, but is halted by Tough Lady making some kind of signal you dont understand. You realize now that you didnt catch either of their names.

The next rooms see you at a slight distance from your teammates, though you don't notice that- too busy shuffling through what you know about yourself. It's disturbingly little.

From context clues, you are some sort of prisoner who signed a contract (though you have no idea as to what the details of that contract are). You don't remember anything before waking up in the holding room with the other 19 prisoners, and you don't know your own name. But... you do know this sort of lapse in memory is abnormal- that something is wrong here. You're not certain if knowing this is better or worse.

You shake yourself free from your ruminations, glancing at your teammembers who are speaking quietly to each other while they sort through a filing cabinet. Crying Guy is smiling and laughing at something Tough Lady said. Quietly, you approach and start to help with the files, causing the pair to pause before continuing. They're chatting about a TV show, you think.

...Even if you'd watched it, you wouldnt remember enough to join in.

You linger at the edges of their newfound camaraderie, dutifully helping with the reclaimation of assets. Occasionally, they'll send a remark or question your way which you do your best to respond to, but mostly the group is content in the current dynamic.

It's while searching in a room with a window (Avert your eyes, do not look), that you glance up and catch sight of your reflection.

... You dont recognize the face staring back at you. Thick, scraggly brown hair hangs above its shoulders, framing a soft-jawed face. A massive burn scar mauls the left side, peeling back part of the lip, but leaving the eye undamaged. The ear on that side, when you move the hair out of the way, is a shriveled husk. Trembling fingers ghost over the uneven landscape of the disfigurement, trailing to a stop just below the eye- hooded and dark, with a pinprick of light in the pupil. You're leaning forward, scrutinizing the odd orangish-greenish glow, when the lights above you flicker. Dread curls up your spine and makes a nest in your heart. Something is coming.

You turn from the window, eyes sparking with fear (with knowledge).

"Hide."

Crying Guy (though you should probably give him a different nickname now, seeing as he's stopped crying.) blinks in confusion.

"What--" he starts, but you interrupt

"HIDE!!"

You start bustling towards a wall of lockers, grabbing his wrist to drag him along. Tough Lady stands from where she had been crouched by a desk, only for your hand to find her arm and start dragging (or, attempting to drag) her as well.

"What, exactly, are we hiding from?" She questions as you fail to move her from her position.

"Don't you hear it???"

The pair pause to listen, while you shift nervously and tug their arms in the direction of the lockers. Screaming grows louder in the distance. Their eyes widen, when they both notice, and Tough Lady stops resisting your frantic pulling. The three of you are quick to hide in the lockers, after that.

The screaming gets louder, louder, accompanied by the sound of lightbulbs popping, before a dark shadow speeds past. You wait for the echoing shriek to doppler further down the hallways before you carefully step out of the locker. Your companions follow not long after.

Their faces arent visible in the newly-darkened room, but you can feel their eyes pointed in your direction.

"...Thank you." There's an unspoken question in her gratitude. You do not answer it.

Chapter Text

Navigating your way out of the lightless room is made more difficult by the fact that 1: Apparently the Navi-Path signs dont glow in the dark, 2: No member of your group has a light source, and the surprising 3: There are suddenly entities in the room with you.

You first realize the three of you are not wholely alone when Crying Guy lets out a loud yelp and falls to the floor. Judging by the accompanying crashing sounds, he hit also a desk or chair on the way down.

"oOooh whatthefuckwasthaat-" he hisses vehemently while Tough Lady carefully picks her way over to help him up.

"What happened?" she asks, pulling him to his feet

"There was this fuckin-- thing, I dunno, man- like, some fucked squid creature that just, lunged at me out of nowhere!" He's still whispering, as if speaking too loud will summon the thing back to attack him again.

Your own eyes have adjusted to the darkness at this point, so you can see the shadowy form of Crying Guy clinging to the taller shadow that is Tough Lady. Around you, you can also see 2 shadowy figures that are distinctly not your teammates. They float about half a foot off the ground, and while their upper half sort of resembles a person, their lower half is split into 6 tentacle-like appendages.

Looking at them, you dont feel the same curl of dread as when you stepped into the submarine, or just before that thing that broke the lights blasted through. (harmless, so long as you give them space)

Consideringly, you walk towards one of them, the murmur of Tough Lady calming Crying Guy down relegated to background noise. As you approach, it starts up a sort of...hissing noise- like someone is inhaling forcefully with their mouth slightly open- and its 'head' lights up with what seems to be a flat mimicry of a stereotypically 'scary' face. It vibrates slightly in place, presumably from the effort it is exerting to make its 'warning' sound. You take a step back, and the... whatever it is... calms down, glowing face fading and that strange inhale petering off into silence.

"I don't think they're dangerous," you comment, turning slightly to your companions.

"there's more of them???" Crying guy's hissed reaction is almost drowned out by the sound of Tough Lady starting to speak as well.

"You sure?"

"Mhm," you hum in reply. "We should hurry and find the door, though."

Tough Lady doesnt audibly respond, but you do hear her start to move. You yourself make your way over to a wall, and carefully keep one hand on it as you shuffle forwards. Your other arm is extended in front of you at about waist height, to prevent collision with desks or chairs. None of you actually get the chance to find the door before red emergency lighting turns on, though.

The new visibility greatly simplifies the search, and it's not long before the three of you have entered the next room. (strangely, the lights here aren't broken. You suppose the creature must not have gone this way; there were other doors in the previous room, they just weren't marked by the Navi-Path.)

"So... What the fuck did you mean by 'I dont think they're dangerous'??? One of them literally attacked me!" Crying Guy starts on you, but not before making sure he is well away from the darkened doorway.

You pause, taking the moment to sort that strange gut feeling into words.

"...I didn't get attacked when I approached one, so... maybe you got too close..?" The statement turns into a question when you catch the odd glint in his eye.

"Uh-huh, so you're saying it's my fault then?" His tone is bordering on manic. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Tough Lady steps in.

"Enough. We dont have time for an argument. Let's keep moving before some other creature happens to find us." Her tone is firm, brooking no further complaint.

She moves further into the room to start searching, Crying Guy following not long after. You catch him giving you another strange look, but its hard to decipher what exactly his expression means before he's turning away to help Tough Lady with another filing cabinet.

It's not long before everything has been searched and the three of you are entering the next hallway. You're about four steps into the room when you hear a familiar whirr and click. On the far side of the hallway above the next door marked by the Navi-path, a turret unfolds from the ceiling.

'That explains the gunshots in the submarine,' comes the absurd thought before you frantically dive for cover behind an overturned desk. A red laser passes just above your head as you press your back desperately against cold metal.

A quick glance to your right reveals that both Crying Guy and Tough Lady made it to shelter as well; the pair hiding behind a stack of crates.

"How do we get past that?" Crying guy wails. Its clear that the back-to-back entity encounters have damaged his composure, he's regained that despairing look in his eyes he had when you first exited the submarine.

"I saw a path," Tough Lady begins, pausing to take a breath before continuing. "Theres plenty of cover, and I think I also spotted a control panel by the door. Might turn it off"

"Okay, but who the fuck is gonna go over there?? I dont want anyone else getting shot!"

"I'll go. I saw the path, I'll take the risk."

"But-" He pauses. "ok," he sighs. "Ok. But be careful."

Tough Lady nods before dashing out of safety.

You dont risk peeking around the upturned desk, listening intently to the rhythmic humming of the turrets' motor as it rotates the weapon to scan the area, the sound periodically interrupted by quick footsteps.

Rrmmm~ pause... Rrmmm~ (stepstepstepstepstep), pause.... Rrmmm~ (stepstepstep), pause... Rrmm-Click!

The turret folds back into the ceiling, the tail end of the motion visible when you peek over the edge of the desk. Tough Lady stands, strained but triumphant, next to the control panel. Once Crying Guy ascertains that the turret is really gone, he is quick to run over and hug her (much to her surprise, it looks like. She tenses before relaxing slightly and awkwardly returning the hug.).

You give them space to have their moment, instead seaching the small hallway for anything that could go in your 'bag-o-research' (Theres really not that much, but you would be far less comfortable if Crying Guy also attacked you with a hug. Best to let him get it out of his system before you approach.)

Chapter Text

It doesnt actually take too long for Crying Guy to calm down and stop hugging Tough Lady, but you do feel like it was longer than necessary. (Maybe it's just you though. After the initial awkwardness Tough Lady definitely seemed fine with it. You might have even heard her comforting him while the hug happened, but you were actively trying to pay no attention to their little scene.)

"Alright," Tough lady breaks the silence, patting Crying Guy on the back one last time before they fully separate. "Let's keep moving."
(You ignore the fact that both of them look like they've been crying recently. Not your business.)

Given that you'd already searched the hall while the pair were having their moment, the group moves to the next room immediately. This area is another hallway (no turret, this time) with two doors that lack the usual Navi-Path signage. You are all a little wary of checking behind those doors, given what HQ said about leaving your assigned route. (You dont think anyone is eager to set off the bomb strapped to your backs.)

Continuing down the hallway, a left turn takes you to the next Navi-Path marked door. A door that sports a glowing blue keypad, and an experimental tug from Tough Lady reveals that it is, in fact, locked. Great.

"Damn." Tough Lady echoes your internal reaction, stepping back and frowning at the door. After a moment's thought, she pulls out the keycard she used to open the door leading out of the docks (you didn't even realize she kept that.). Inserting it into the card slot does nothing but cause the panel to emit a negative beeping noise.

"Worth a shot," she sighs. "Split up and start looking, I'll check the hallway, you two take those side doors we saw."

You nod and are quick to split off, ignoring the way Crying Guy lingers before following you.

"I'll, uh, Take the left door," He mumbles, entering the room in question before you can think to respond. Alright then.

Opening your 'assigned' door, you find a basic office room with a few desks, chairs and some lockers. The act of searching has at this point become almost automatic: Open drawers, pick up files, glance at titles/contents and mentally compare to what you already have stashed, ditch duplicates to save space. (The bag does have quite a bit more storage capacity than one would expect given its size, but you figure it's better to bring back 'quality' items than quantity)

While you search, you mentally weigh your reaction to the intimacy shared by your companions. You know that your aversion to it isn't considered normal, but when you try to remember how you know that, you hit the same wall of white noise you encountered when desperately trying to remember your name. Metaphysically, it doesnt feel like a wall so much as an... absence of something. The active 'presence' of Nothing, empty space, a mental eigengrau. (̶͠Ǵ̷͜͝rȩ̕͠ę̸n̡̨͝ ͠ey̷̛ȩ̨͢ś́͡ ͡҉͞͝o̵͢b͢se͏r҉͝vȩ̀ ́́̕͡y̡̧͘͡o̡u ͏̶̸̛fr̛͠o̵̢͘m̡҉ ẁ̵͢͜it́́hi̷̷̛͜n̷҉́͡)͢͞

Your introspection is interrupted by a commotion in the other room. A loud clang followed by metalic pounding.

Terror ices your joints.

(Do you hear that?)

(It's trying to get in.)
(Hes trying to get out.)

Your lungs refuse air.

(Is that your heartbeat, or the sound of something struggling?)

Horror shudders its way under your skin.

(You left him there-)
(You pulled him free-)

Another loud clang cracks the ice in your bones and through your mindless panic you blindly run to check on your squadmates, two contradictory feelings fighting for dominance in your heart

(If you try to help him, you'll die too.)
(You have to help him, he can't escape on his own)

You rush into the other room, catching yourself on a desk when you fail to slow down in time. Crying Guy is on the far side of the room, the man sitting on the floor in front of a locker as though his legs simply collapsed beneath him. Tough Lady is crouched beside him, checking him over and murmuring quietly. Looking closer, Crying Guy has obviously been injured by something. Parts of his suit are discoloured, and the bits of bare skin visible (his face and hands) have what look to be chemical burns paired with odd scratches that ooze blood slowly. On a hunch, you turn your gaze to the locker behind him. A single purple eye stares out between the slats.
(Lockers aren't to be trusted)

Approaching the pair, you attempt to calm down from... well. Whatever that was. Why did you react like that, anyway? You weren't the one in danger, right? (blood spattered metal codemns you)

...Anyway, as you get closer you can hear Tough Lady soothing Crying Guy (who is actually crying, at this moment.). You hesitate.

...Best not interrupt them; you're fairly certain Tough Lady will do a far better job of comforting him than you ever could. (It has nothing to do with the fact that even thinking about trying to help Crying Guy calm down makes your skin crawl)

You instead turn your attention to the unsearched areas of this room, noting that he only got about halfway through before. Well. Whatever happened to him. You'll have to ask later; better to be informed.

Two drawers into your search and you find a paper helpfully labeled 'password' with four numbers scrawled underneath it. Hopefully, this is the password to the door, and not to a computer. Glancing at your teammates, you find the pair to still be busy with Crying Guy's newfound trauma. Fair enough. They put up with your weird name breakdown earlier, you can give them more time. Might as well check this password on the door while you wait.

Fortunately, upon entering the four digit code the panel gives an affirmative beep and the door opens with no other issues. Nice. (Weirdly lucky, on second thought, but you don't really have the time to overthink it. Best to get moving before some other entity attacks Crying Guy.)

Returning to the leftmost room, you find Tough Lady has moved Crying Guy off the floor and into a chair, though she herself remains unseated for some reason. Tuning in to their quiet conversation, Crying Guy is talking about how he was framed for a murder.

Right. You forgot that everyone down here is a prisoner. Wonder what you were jailed for. (You'd ask, but its not like your teammates would know.) Though this does answer the lingering question of why a hardened criminal would be so... fragile. He's not actually a criminal.

Dismissing your wayward thoughts on crime, you instead swallow down your discomfort and approach your teammates. You consider waiting for an opening to speak, but this is already incredibly awkward, so you just interrupt.

"I got the door open."

You fidget under their combined stare.

"...sorry," you mumble and move to retreat out of the room, but Tough Lady speaking makes you stop.

"Right." She pauses, giving the still visibly upset Crying Guy a lingering glance. "...right. We do need to get moving. Kevin, are you good to go..?"

...Holy shit. You stop paying attention to their conversation, subconsciously following when the two of them start moving towards the door. Crying Guy is named Kevin?? Like. You knew, logically, he had a name. He tried to introduce himself!! You just weren't listening. But Kevin?? (Why are you so hung up on this, it's just a name- (when you cannot remember your own-))

You shake yourself free from your thoughts as the three of you pass through the newly-unlocked door. Better to pay attention.

-

The next two rooms pass by in mostly the same fashion as the previous ones, with a single notable difference: Crying Guy- Kevin- has stopped trying to include you in conversation. Before, he would send the occasional question your way, but now it's like he is actively avoiding any interaction with you. Part of you definitely understands it. You were avoiding comforting him, and you haven't been the most talkative of companions, but- lack of teamwork is going to get everyone killed. (if you were in that locker, would he have bothered trying to pull you free?)

As the three of you approach the next door, the Navi-Path sign goes dark before swapping images to some kind of black scribbly face on a white background.

"Ever get the feeling something baad is gonna happen?" The electronic voice snickers. "Well, you're right!"

A green light washes over the three of you from the window, soothing (dangerous). Calming (DANGEROUS!!). You catch sight of your teammates turning to look from your position at the back of the group, and on half-remembered instinct you tackle Crying G- Kevin- to the ground. (You know you wouldn't be able to knock Tough Lady over, she's stronger than you are)

"DON'T LOOK!"

You don't really recognize that it is your own voice screaming before you're already pinning Kevin down and covering his eyes with your hands. You glance up at Tough Lady consciously not looking at the light despite the subtle urge that it's safe, it's okay to look-

She has her face turned toward the window.
SHE HAS HER FACE TURNED TOWARD THE WINDOW!

You curse yourself for not knowing her name as you start yelling desperately. (Kevin is shouting questions and struggling beneath you, but it is simple to keep him down.)

"Miss!! Tough Lady!!! Don't look at the window!!!!"
She doesnt acknowledge you, her eyes fixated on that radioactive green light. (behind her, the Navi-Path sign has a countdown, though you don't consciously recognize it in the moment)

"...Brianne..? Bri-Bri, is that you--?" Tough Lady's voice is soft, choked on emotion. She steps past where you are keeping Kevin pinned, and you do not turn to watch. Doing so would make you face the window.

"I missed you-" she trails off, falling silent before the meaty 'thud' of a body hitting the floor sounds from behind you.

The door unlocks, and you are quick to leap off of Kevin and tear it open. The moment you do so, that green light also fades away. You slump against the doorframe, sliding down to your knees. Behind you, Kevin lets out a wail.

"ESTELLE!!!"

So thats what her name was. Estelle. You stare blankly into the next room, Kevin's grief echoing down the hallways.

You don't hear him approaching before he's pulled you up roughly, shaking you by the collar of your EXR-P jumpsuit.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU DO SOMETHING?! WHY-" Cringing away from his grip, you mumble an answer, though he doesnt seem to hear it over his own incensed shouting.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE HER?!"

"BECAUSE I COULDN'T!" He stumbles back at your sudden yell, letting go of your collar.

"...because I couldn't. I'm. Not strong enough to hold her down like I did you." You look away from his devastated expression, wringing your hands. "...i'm sorry."

Deliberately, you keep your gaze away from his face, not wanting to know what he thinks of your answer. You hear him shifting something and a metallic clunk before he brushes past your shoulder roughly.

"Lets go."  His voice is cold.

When you turn to follow him, you catch sight of the crystal containment unit now hanging beneath his air tanks.

-

Comraderie is distinctly absent as the pair of you make your way further into the blacksite. No longer does Kevin try to make conversation, and he also has little patience for searching for spare assets. He is single-minded in his march towards Z-2. The only times he acknowledges your presence is when you warn him of incoming entities. (It is still a little strange, how you just seem to Know when something is dangerous down here. You don't look the gift horse in the mouth, however.)

The pair of you have survived 2 more encounters with that screaming thing that flickers the lights, and made it past at least 9 more doors. You both are headed for the 10th door when the lights flicker again.

"Lockers." Kevin mutters before you can. He's already moving towards a group of three (two on the left wall, one on the right)careful to check the slats for eyes, when you hear it.

A low, mournful wailing- unlike the loud screeches indicative of the... well. The somethings that scream, rush past, and break the lights. (You'd think of something to call them but you don't have the time with how quickly Kevin is rushing through rooms.)

A familiar dread climbs your throat, not the dread of entering the submarine, or of the first ever entity encounter, it is the same terror that froze you when Kevin got grabbed by that locker creature.

"Kevin--" your voice is choked on fear. "Kevin-"

"What," he snaps, turning to face you.

"Kevin we have to find somewhere to hide. Now."

He rolls his eyes. "We have somewhere to hide." He makes a sarcastic gesture towards the wall. "These lockers."

But instinct screams that against this, lockers will not suffice.

"Kevin-"

He heaves a sigh and grabs your arm, dragging you over to the metal (deathtraps) hiding spots. "C'mon. Hurry up and hide before it gets you." There is a tinge of fear in his tone, not from the monster, but from the idea of being left alone down here. You hide.

The choir of wails grows closer and closer, before terror spikes in your heart at the narrow glance you get of the creature through the locker slats. A strange mass of flesh and mouths, hovering about 2 feet off the floor. It undulates with the rhythm of the wretched song it emits, drifting through the room slowly. You hear Kevin shift in the locker across from yours. Uncountable eyes light up within the wretched maws of the beast, and the wailing changes tone.

You flinch back as it launches itself at Kevin's locker, several of the mouths using their teeth to grip the edges as the main mass of the creature slams against the metal container. You can hear Kevin screaming something, but you can't tell what exactly hes saying over the cacaphony of wails and metal clanging. The assault seems to last an eternity before one of the lockers' doors gives out, allowing the monster access to its prey within.

Kevin's screams overwhelm the sound of the wailing for the time he remains alive to scream. It is far too soon that he falls silent. The creature looms over the remains of the locker (the remains of Kevin). Then... the eyes turn to you. You stay absolutely still, praying that it cannot see you, that it does not know.

It knows.

(You do not last longer than Kevin did.)

The pain of being torn apart is all you can process before everything goes dark.

(̵̡̢̺̖̰Ḁ̗G̨̻̯̜̯̪̪͡͠͠Á̷̡̛̛̠̮͍̼̤̬I̢̖N̶̰̞̳͇ͅ.͈̗̞̼̕҉̨͜)̫͎̲̰

Chapter Text

You wake with a gasp, hands moving to desperately check limbs you felt being severed. This is hampered by the fact that your wrists have been cuffed together.

...Cuffed? Hadn't you just been torn apart?

Glancing around the room, you realize you've been here before. Four cold concrete walls broken by a single metal door. People in orange jumpsuits loitering about, hands cuffed just like yours are. Someone yells from behind the door.

"Line up single file in front of the door! Do not attempt to escape or step out of line; doing so may be met with lethal punishment!"

The voice is different- last time you were here the guard had an accent. This guard also didnt slam something against the door to gain your attention, they just yelled. As you move to line up you glance around, hoping to maybe find Estelle or Kevin. (You died, but you're still alive, maybe they are too?)

...They arent here. (Neither is Shouty Guy, for that matter.)

During your walk to the briefing room, you take stock of your body. When you first woke up, you could still feel phantom pains from... well. Dying, you suppose. Your arms and legs are still a little wobbly, but they're getting steadier as you move.

Whatever happened, the lingering effects seem to be mental only.

You tune back in once you reach the briefing room, which looks exactly the same as when you last saw it. The briefing is also practically identical (hard to say for certain, given you didn't memorize the thing, but it covers the same information as before.)

The dismissal also goes very similarly to your previous experience- guards herd the group of 20 people into 5 groups of 4, the main difference being that Estelle, Kevin and Shouty Guy are distinctly missing. You give your new teammembers a once-over. Three men, though you dont bother examining them too closely right now. You'll have plenty of time in the submarine. (hopefully, none of them will basically commit suicide via turret, this time.)

The changing room also goes mostly the same, with a single standout incident where some guy (not one of your teammates) made some kind of fuss and got a baton to the face for his troubles.

Before long, your squad is standing in front of your submarine. This time, you actually listen when the guard hands the containment unit and watertight bag to one of your teammates.

"This is the Containment Unit you'll be using to transport the crystal. It should lock into place just below your air tanks with no issue, so don't worry about carrying it."

"...And the bag..?" your teammate asks, shuffling both items to get a better grip.

"HQ will explain once you dock. Get going, Expendable."

You're the first of the group to step onto the submarine, taking a seat by the hatch rather than moving further in. As your teammates file in behind you, you take the time to thoroughly examine each of them.

First guy is built like a brick shithouse, tall and muscular. His hair is in a basic men's cut, black and curly. He has a tattoo on his face, though its hard to tell what it's supposed to be of. Maybe its a word? He sits close to the console, but doesnt touch it, thankfully.

Second guy is thin and wiry, not as tall as the first guy, but taller than both you and the third guy. His face is foxlike and framed with long blond bangs, the rest of his hair being pulled back in a low ponytail. He meets your gaze, examining you just as you are examining him.

Third Guy is like First guy but smaller. Same basic build, same muscular frame, just shorter and with a different hairstyle. No tattoos that you can see, though that doesnt mean much when the jumpsuit covers a lot of skin. His hair is brown and buzzed close to the scalp. (he's also the one with the watertight bag and Containment Unit.)

Until they do something to earn a nickname or you learn their actual names, they'll just be Guys 1, 2, and 3. (No way are you bringing up the name conversation yourself, you can still feel that suspicious absence in your brain and now that you've noticed it you can't un-notice it.)

-

The ride down to the Blacksite is surprisingly tense, despite nobody speaking. It's clear at this point that Guy 3 and Guy 1 have some sort of beef going on; theres all sorts of weird hostility between the two, and Guy 2 has definitely also noticed. Nothing comes of it before you reach the dock and disembark, though.

HQ's second briefing covers the same information as before, so you dont bother listening as you wander off to search the area. This dock is shaped differently from the one you landed at before, and the marked door doesnt require a keycard. You keep an eye on your teammates, not wanting to be left behind if they start moving. Guy 2 is also observing everything, though most of his attention is definitely focused on the cold war going on between Guys 1 and 3.

"OK." Guy 1 speaks up after HQ has finished the briefing. "I'll lead, you all keep close."

Guy 3 clearly wants to say something about that, but restrains himself to simply glaring daggers at Guy 1 when he turns to walk through the first door.

Guy 2s eyes are alight with interest. He noticed it too, then.

-

You haven't even made it two rooms in when the argument starts.

"Hey Jim, hand over that container thingy," Guy 1 says, seemingly out of nowhere. He doesnt stop walking, but does hold his hand out to the side expectantly.

'Jim' (which is apparently Guy 3s name) responds with "Uh. No."

"What. I'm the leader, I should be the one with the container."

"Bro. Ryan. You're a shit leader, thats why we're even in this mess in the first place!"

'Ryan' finally stops walking, turning to reveal a truly livid expression. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"I said you're a shit leader, and the reason why both of us are down here!" Jim doesnt back down from Ryan's suddenly confrontational body language.

Guy 2 is watching the back-and-forth with growing delight, hand coming up to cover his smile.

"I am not a shit leader you fucking troglodyte, I was the one who came up with the plan, I was the one who went in and did the dirty work, and what did you do? Jack. Shit."

"Ex-fucking-scuse you, you wouldn't have even been able to do half the 'dirty work' without my hacking to back you up!" Jim takes a breath. "AND EVEN THEN YOU STILL WALKED INTO THE CCTV FOOTAGE WHEN I TOLD YOU NOT TO!!"

"YOU SHOULD'VE TAKEN DOWN THE CCTV!!"

"IT DOESNT FUCKING WORK LIKE THAT!!!"

The pair are chest-to-chest at this point, barely restrained violence lashing out in wild arm gestures rather than a punch or two (as they are clearly chomping at the bit for, but it seems neither are willing to strike first.) Guy 2s grin is barely concealed by his hand now, and he looks to be holding back laughter if the slight tremble of his shoulders is any indication.

Jim is about to continue speaking when Guy 2 interrupts.

"I dunno, I've done some hacking work and taking down CCTV is super easy. Think Ryan has the right of it, here."

Ryan looks vindicated, giving Jim a smug grin.

"See? I fucking knew you were a shit hacker-" His words are cut off when Jim snaps and finally tackles him to the ground. Guy 2 (the fucking shit-stirrer) lets out a tiny whoop as the pair begin to brawl. Above it all, the lights flicker.

You tense and open your mouth to speak but your warning is drowned out by shouted insults, the sound of hits landing, and Shit-Stirrer cheering the pair on. Behind it all, you can hear the familiar screeching as the entity draws closer.

Theres no time.

You dive into a safe locker, peering through the slats at your teammates. You've never seen what happens if this entity encounters a person, and any information is good information. The screaming crescendos and the shadowy creature flies through the room. Though it moves fast you catch a glimpse of glowing eyes, a maw filled with teeth and an angler's lure. It passes through your teammates like they arent there, silencing their argument instantly as all three of them fall limp and cease moving. Then it's gone, crossing through the docks to another part of the facility, you suppose.

Gently, you step out of the locker, giving your eyes a moment to adjust and waiting for the emergency lighting to turn on. Once it does, you move to investigate the bodies. All three are definitely dead when you check for a pulse or breathing, though their bodies are still warm. Flipping Shit-Stirrer over, his eyes are open but blank, and his entire body is limp.

You take a step back, needing a moment to let their deaths settle in your mind. Once your hands have stopped shaking, you move to Jims corpse to grab the crystal container and watertight bag. (It's a little finicky to determine how the capsule attaches, but once you figure it out its surprisingly lightweight under your air tanks.)

You pause again, breathing out your anxiety (Though keeping an ear out for the screaming... thing. It kinda looked like an anglerfish, now that you think of it. Angler is as good a name as any, you suppose).

Taking one last look at your dead teammates, you move to the next room.

-

Working through each room searching is a lot slower with just one person, and it feels eerie being alone. With Kevin and Estelle, while there were quiet moments, most of the time they were quietly chatting about something. Even the new team, while being absurdly tense and quiet, just the sound of them existing and walking was enough to soothe some of the existential terror of being fathoms below the surface of the ocean.

You shuffle some files into the watertight bag, taking a moment to look over what you have. You hear Kevin approaching from behind, off to the left, probably going to ask about- wait.

Kevin is dead.

You dont have time to react when your knees are kicked in from behind. Rolling to your back to hopefully defend yourself proves to be a mistake as you have barely any time to react before the pale white thing has leaned down and used its many teeth to tear a new hole in your throat. You're left gasping and choking on blood as you watch this creature chew, swallow, then lean back down for another bite.

(At least it severed an artery. You should pass out soon and won't have to deal with watching this thing eat you.)

Relief is the last emotion you consciously recognize before once again everything goes dark.

(̘͍̣͝͞͏̴͝D̢͓͈̕͏҉I̸̡̨̛͠S̰̯̞͖Á̲̙͙̩ͅ҉P̨͇͙̳̺̮̀ͅP̸͖̞̪̩̪͝͡O̶̧͘͠Í̷̶͚̱͉̻̦͝͏Ņ̵̨͕͚͜͠͏Ţ͘͡͏I̳̻͍҉̨͟҉Ń̶̷̫̮̝͢҉̵G͘͜͞.̧̨͚̩͈̰)̰


(͖͆ͨA͓̘̳̟̫̹̞͊́̓ͧ͊ͭ̉̏̀̀͢͝͠͏̴̨̧G̵̑͛͞͏̴́̀A̵̰̤̮͚̭̳͊̏̔͊͜I͕͇̼͔̪̖͎̍̐̍̄̑̋̕N̴͔͚̩̣̝̝͒͏҉͝.̞͈̣̿͞)͓̩͔̟̬̐ͤ͒̒̃̔̿̚͏̸̸̸̸̧́͘͠

Chapter Text

You wake with frustration bubbling in your chest. (G̸̀͝͞҉͞͡ǫ̴̕͝d̸̢́͟͝͠. That was such a stupid way to die. (should have guarded your neck with your forearm))

Sitting upright, you glance around. Same room, different people, different guard calling for a line-up. You stand and shuffle to the door, one of the first to obey the shouted command.

The walk and briefing is much the same, though in the locker room you notice something odd. One of your assigned teammates feels... familiar. Familiar the same way the screech of an angler was 'familiar'. A familiar that causes the mental eigengrau still lurking in your hindbrain to shudder.

You find yourself staring at her while the group is led to the sub and handed the capsule. She's above average height, and carries herself not quite with confidence, but more 'self-assuredness'. Like she knows what she is capable of and remains prepared for the unexpected. Her hair is cut in a short business-bob, framing a face that is somehow shaped to look 'professional'. Like when she was born, her genes decided she would be a smart businesswoman and gave her a face to match. The only thing marring the professional vibe is the eyepatch. Plain medical cloth covering her right eye, secured by thin strips of fabric looped behind her head. (one eye socket burnt and melting, hollowed out by something beyond the windows)

Your intense examination of her is ended when the submarine casts off, ferrying your newly formed squad down to the blacksite. She looks up from her seat and meets your gaze. Ah. You've been staring for a while, haven't you. You quickly avert your eyes, tensing a bit under the ensuing silence.

The silence doesn't last too long, however, as the one-eyed-woman speaks up.

"Hello. My name is Octavia Rose. I hope we can work together well to complete our task."

One of your other teammates speaks up, a balding middle-aged man you hadn't paid much attention to (given you were busy staring Octavia down like some sort of creep.)

"Ah- I agree!" He shuffles a bit, tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit. "I'm Henry, by the way."

Your third teammate speaks up then, and you notice that they're staring at you intently when you turn to face them. (How long have they been doing that?)

"Sidney. A pleasure." Their eyes never leave yours.

It is then that your other two teammates also turn to look at you.

Ah.

You're supposed to introduce yourself now, aren't you?

(What is your name?)


(What is your name?)



(W̔h͙ͭ̀a͙t͠ i̹ͪs̨͂ y̵o̫͞u̿r̭͡ ̅na̳͘m̵̞ē͍?)





(C̾ͩ̅͡E̻͖͑͌̂Â̶͜S̴̵̢͔̽ͫ̔Eͪ̓̔͘ ̉͊T̷͇̪ͤ͌̓R̵̘͎ͩ̋͢͞O̫̖ͭ͏͜͜U̩̬ͮͤ͆B̸̧L͇̈́͝͡͝I̧̐͗ͮN̝͊̔̓̕͢͢G̼̣ͮͪ͜͟ ̡̦̪͓Y̤ͫ͢O͆̾̈U̶̘̬̰R̐͛͛SEͮL̸̶̛̝̩̀F̲̜͍͋ͫ̋ ̞ͅW̰̣͐̇I̓́͞T̛̲̎̆̌́̕H̩͎ ̸̐ͧͤ͏҉U̯̪̮ͬ̾̚Ṇ̬̊͆̓́҉͝N͔̪ͪ͟ͅĘ̿͡C̦̲̯ͩ̕͏̨E̙̹͛͞S̺̮ͬ͆S̼̔͜͢͠A̴̤̦̎̀͜R̷̛̦̭͠Y̞ ̽́T̬̳̰̽H̆́Ơ̴̹͔ͪ͐͢U͓̿̃̕҉G̪̣͗H̷̛̺ͩT̜ͬ͛.̟̬ͦͮ ͍ ͚ͤ̓͟͠͡Y͙҉Ǫ͉̰̪U̳͇ͮ̑ͩ ̷̻͓̗͢͡ H̟̩͆͐Ȃ̶̧̧̂̚V̤̮ͤE̴̡̠̬͚͑̊ͦ҉ ́Ņ̤̎̓̊͝O̦ ̝̻̖̐̔͘N̵̵̛͚̊E̡̥ͤ͏Ẹ̿͢D̸ͮ̓̕ ̝͌́͢҉ F͔̫͍̌̋O̦̬ͭ͠͠R ͇́̽ͨA̶͎͖̙͗̚͜͟ ͎Ţ̘̝ͤH͉͚̟I̠̳̠̐̀͂҉̶N̶̟̒͠G̵̮̱̅͆͐ S̴̬͆́͡Ư̷̙̒̾̎͠C̢̛̩̻̔̊̏͢Ḧ̨̛̦͈́ ̳̅͌ A̋ͪ̿S̜͔̋ ̶̩̘̓͛̅T̶̞͖͠H̳͍ͣ̃ͯÂ̢̬ͦ͝T̝̲̊ͫͅ.̧̯ͨ̃͝͏)

-

You do not remember the rest of your transport to the blacksite.

-

Once HQ has dropped the second briefing on your collective heads, Octavia is quick to take the leadership position. (It definitely helped that nobody else seemed to want it) She organizes roles, assigning Henry to the management of collected data and ordering Sidney to act as overwatch. If they hear or see something suspicious, it's their job to speak up and warn the others. (She does not explicitly assign you to a task. You do not ask why.)

You take up the task of finding data; Henry is in charge of organizing it, so you dont bother being too selective. If it looks important, you hand it over to him. Octavia also helps search, though she tends to stay towards the 'front end' of the group. Sidney...

Sidney hasn't stopped staring at you. You only really noticed about two rooms in, but like the... whatever it is in your brain that feels like numbness and tastes like static- now that you've noticed, you can't un-notice.

You mostly ignore the prickling feel of their eyes watching you, but it gets harder to ignore when past the third room they start lurking closer and closer. You're still taken by surprise when their hand touches your shoulder, though.

"Ah, Apologies for startling you. Would you like some help with that?" They make a gesture to the large stack of folders and papers you were ferrying over to Henry for sorting.

You pause before wordlessly splitting the stack and handing some over. Their hand brushes yours during the transfer.

-

The next few rooms are marked by Sidney attempting to converse with you, and them helping carry things even when you dont really need the help. They'll pluck folders and papers right out of your hands, and always give you this strange smile when you meet their eyes. (You stop meeting their eyes. That smile is... uncomfortable)

Octavia leads the group through the next door, and you hear a turret click down from the ceiling. You open your mouth to warn your comrades of the danger when something tackles you to the side, thoroughly knocking sense from your brain and wind from your lungs. It takes a moment to regain your bearing, blinking rapidly when you realize you're still being held by something uncomfortably warm. Glancing upwards, you see that Sidney is holding you close to their torso. One arm is wrapped under your left armpit and around your back to clutch at your right shoulder, forcing you into distressingly close proximity with your teammate. Their legs trap your own between them, which creates a position you cannot get out of without them loosening their grasp around your shoulders.

You wiggle slightly to signal them to let go but they dont respond the way you hoped, instead tightening their grip and pulling you slightly closer. (Too close)

Sidney's chest rumbles as they say something above your head but you cannot focus on that because ants are crawling down your spine and termites are making a nest in your bones. You're struggling to breathe properly, are they holding you tight enough to cut off your air supply?? (Please let go.)

Something sickly and warm brushes through your hair and you do not have the room to cringe away from its reach.

(Your sight is fading now- theyre killing you- theY'rE KILLING YOU--)

(PLEASE-!!)

Reality slams back into focus. You're sitting on the floor looking at the wall and your unscarred cheek is stinging with pain. Turning to face forward, you see Sidney crouched less than a foot away. (Their hand is lowering- did they... did they slap you..?) Your hearing is taking a moment longer to reboot, Sidney's mouth is moving but there is no sound. Hands drop onto your shoulders heavily, weighing you down (keeping you trapped). Noise begins to filter back in, though its slowed by the fact you cannot stop paying attention to the searing heat of Sidney's hands on your shoulders.

"--lright? Are you able to hear me now?" They ask, tightening their grip slightly.

You nod numbly, too shaken by the hot (HEAT HEAT HEAT GET IT OFF) feeling of someone else touching you to really speak. Sidney hums in acknowledgement, before forcibly pulling you to your feet by a hand that migrated to your wrist. (They still dont let go.) You drift away, slightly, when your attempt to tug your hand free is met with a tightening grip and more touching. (You think Sidney is checking for injuries, but their grip is so rigid it might bruise your wrist- if they were really concerned they wouldnt...)

(In your dissociated state, you do not see Octavia watching with a narrowed eye.)

-

Sidney doesnt let go. Or, well. They do, but not for long. After the turret room where they tackled you, all sense of personal space seems to have vanished. They're constantly brushing shoulders, trailing a hand along your back, grabbing your wrist when the group is moving to another area. You think to tell them to stop several times, but the words are clogged in your throat and refuse to come out. It's easier to drift away from the too hot touch and think of nothing while you numbly gather data.

Sidney doesnt stop talking, either. Though, now they'll occasionally lean in close (too close!) and murmur in your ear. You don't really register any of their words, though. (The uncomfortable burn is too distracting)

There are at least three more turret rooms, during each of which Sidney pulls you into a hug (a CAGE) until Octavia turns the turret off. (Good for her, you think.)

(You do not notice the way Henry and Octavia will pause and whisper to each other when Sidney's back is turned.)

Octavia calls Sidney to her just before the group enters another room, and, though they glance at you before leaving, they walk to the front without dragging you with. (You can breathe again, though your skin still feels too tight and itchy, like Sidney's hands left some unseen residue everywhere they landed). As you all pass through the doorway, two turrets click down from the ceiling. Sidney, still by Octavia, is too far to force you into an unwanted grapple to 'safety'. (Nowhere feels safe when they are touching you.)

You're still slightly adrift, though Sidney's absence from your side is making it easier and easier to slowly tether yourself back in to your own body. Sidney and Octavia are huddled behind cover together, and Sidney looks angry. (Frustrated to not be near you, maybe?)

Then Octavia shoves Sidney out of cover and directly into a turrets' sightline.

The gunfire is silent as you watch them get shredded into nothing more than inanimate meat by a hail of bullets. (The gun definitely makes noise, you just cant hear it over your own heartbeat, somehow.) Slowly, your gaze drifts up from the gore that was once a person to meet Octavias' single eye. She smiles tightly at you, uncomfortable, but somehow glad. (You feel the same.)

(You are so very glad Sidney is gone.)

Chapter Text

The group (or what remains of it, with Sidney... well.) stops progressing forwards for a bit after Octavia turns off the turrets that she shoved Sidney into. (You're still confused as to why she did that, to be quite honest. Not complaining! Just... confused.) She led your team into the next room before stopping and telling everyone to look for loose data, despite the next area being far more barren of furniture and desks than other hallways. (Still has enough safe lockers for everyone to hide in, though.)

Octavia and Henry seem to be... tiptoeing around you. They linger close by but not nearly as threateningly or suffocatingly as Sidney does. (Did. They're dead now.) You dont mind the quiet, it gives you time to fully settle back in to being a person again. It takes a few more minutes of weird silence before you finally feel present enough to ask a question.

"...Why did you-" (Too quiet, You can barely hear yourself over the shuffling movement of your teammates.) You clear your throat to try again.

"Why did you push Sidney into the turret?" (There. Concise, to-the-point, and a question you would quite like to have answered, please.)

You glance up from where you have been fiddling with a blank paper to see Octavia and Henry staring at you. Your fingers pause in their repeated crumpling and uncrumpling of the sheet. The staring contest lasts far longer than you are comfortable with. (What is their issue?? Have they never heard of a question before??)

"You can talk?" Henry is the one to break the silence, glancing at Octavia then back to yourself incredulously.

(...Oh.)

(Right.)

(You never did speak around this team, did you? Too busy with Sindey's... Sidney-ness (and that awful searing hot DONTTHINKABOUTIT))

You quickly shove the thoughts aside.
"I.. um. Yeah? I can?" You shuffle the paper some more, rubbing your fingers over a spot where the crisp white has gone almost soft. "Is. Is that a problem?"

"...Not a problem, just... confusing," Octavia steps in. "You didn't tell us your name when we were doing introductions in the submarine"

(..?)

(!)

(OH SHIT.)

(Even just thinking about that missing chunk of memory without trying to actually remember it is causing static to fill your ears and a numbness to build in your chest.)

(Change the subject, redirect the conversation- do something--)

You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Oh, I dont have one of those."

"...A name..?"

You can Feel Octavia staring at you. (For someone with only one eye, her staredown game is actually impressive.)

"Mhm! Yup!" (Ignore the fact that your voice squeaked. Its totally normal to not have a name, please, please leave this alone--) You hurry to continue when it looks like Octavia might press the issue. "And! uh! you didnt answer my question--"

"Your question-"

"Why did you push Sidney into the turret?"

Octavia pauses (clearly catching on to your whole avoidance thing, by the way she gives you a Look) then glances at Henry before speaking.

"I've already told Henry about all this, but I was actually interned at the same prison as Sidney."

You blink. (That seems like a weird way to start an explanation, but whatever.)

"During my stay there, I had the... displeasure of learning why they were arrested."

She pauses, examining you for something. (It's hard to say what, exactly. You're struggling to understand where she's going with this whole spiel. Everyone down here was imprisoned for something.)

"Multiple counts of rape, child sexual abuse, groping, harrassment and first-degree murder of several previous assault victims."

(Oh.)

(Oh.)

"When I saw the way they were acting around you, I could not let it continue."

Static filters into your mind and you are struggling to understand. (Is that..? No, but... Conceptually you can see it-)

"So I did something about it."

(Surely that wasn't-- You were just being weird about physical contact... right?)

You dont really notice the way Octavia ushers your unresponsive form into a chair, nor do you really fully register the conversation she is having with Henry over your head, though bits and pieces filter in between your scattered processing of the new information.

(You know what grooming is, and you understood exactly what those charges she specified mean)

"...ive them a m......to proces..."

(So why didn't you see it happening..?)

"...range how th......nd the whole 'name' thing..."

(Aren't you supposed to k͉̅ṋoͬw̮͛ t͍̃h̻in͍ͣg͂s͇?̬̓)

"..ow, but w......eammates now. have t..."

"...lmost like a kid... why are they ev...."

"...e'll work th...s out. No going back now."

You firmly shove the broken cycle of thoughts into a corner. (Enough. you can process that later.) You take in a deep deliberate breath, turning Octavia and Henry's attention to you. (Right now you have to focus on making it through the blacksite alive. You're the only one here who knows about the Angler.)

(About that haunting glow beyond the windows)

(...You dont want another repeat of Kevin and Estelle)

"...You alright there, kid?" Henry is the first to break the silence.

(Kid? You're pretty sure you're not that young, right?) "Y-yeah, M'fine." You take another couple deep breaths. "We.. uh. should get moving." You gesture to the diving gear attached to your neck and back. "Don't want HQ to set these off on us... right?"

Octavia gives you another searching look (what is she looking for?) before nodding. "Right. Let's go." She turns, waving for you and Henry to follow.

You pause only slightly before following her, resisting the urge to look back through the previous door. (You already know they're dead. Calm down.)

-

Almost all of the next rooms your group pass through has one or more active turrets. (Like, Holy Shit? You've been on edge because the Angler has yet to pass by this entire time but clearly something has it out for you with these guns. You think you've heard that same electronic voice that spoke just before Estelle died a few times, but it's never loud enough for you to really tell what its saying over the sound of the gunfire.)

(from the turrets.)

(did you mention there are turrets?)

(there are a lot of turrets.)

You've finally hit a few rooms without turrets (Octavia is actually The Best for dealing with all of them. You have no idea how or when she learned to move like some sort of superspy, but she really makes passing through turret rooms easier) and your group collectively decides to take a breather. (so many turrets.)

Octavia and Henry are chatting about something while they sit on a sofa together. Octavia herself looks exhausted (understandable) while Henry just seems out of breath from all the walking. You don't bother joining them as there's not a space on the sofa (that you'd feel comfortable taking) and you probably won't have any idea what theyre talking about. From the snippets you caught earlier it was something about life before all of this and you...

(you distinctly do not remember anything from that time.)

(if that time ever existed)

...Anyway! You're hunting for a new sheet of paper to fidget with as the previous one has been thoroughly... un-papered by all the manhandling. Fortunately, this place seems to have an abundance of printer paper stored in some of the most illogical places. Case in point: You found a whole stack shoved underneath a different single-seat sofa. (Why was it there? What is the purpose of sofa-paper? Who knows. You're gonna have fun sitting on the chair while fiddling with it, though.)

While your hands are mindlessly occupied with crinkling and uncrinkling and folding and unfolding the same bit of paper, you turn your thoughts back to the corner you shoved things into for later processing. (You'd put it off to later-later, but given the way things have gone so far you think you have to take any moment you can to process or that corner will get packed full and spill into something important)

So.

Sidney. And the whole... that.

(Sort it into boxes, that might help)

Okay. Box one: You do not like physical touch. (or at the very least, Sidney's touch, but given the thought of hugging Kevin practically gave you hives, you're gonna be general with this one.)

Box two: Sidney would not stop touching you.

(Box three: how could you not tell what was happening)

(No shut up thats not the important part.)

(Isn't it?)

...Boxes arent really getting anywhere.

You unfold the paper, laying it flat against your lap where you kneel kind of lopsided on the sofa. Gently, you trace a line from one corner to the opposite corner, fingertip catching on the tiny imperfections caused by your fidgeting.

...It's tiring, having conceptual knowledge of things without experiences to back them up. You know what a family is. You know what parents are. You know what 'love' feels like. but you cannot remember how you know. You have no previous memory of loving someone, yet you know you'd be able to identify love if you felt it now. At least with parents and family, you could have theoretically (not that you'd remember) learned from the society around you what they were even if you didn't have any yourself. But...

The Angler. You knew it was coming. That it was dangerous. But this place, clearly it's not meant to be... known. All of the documents and folders have huge swathes of redacted text, or 'Classified' stamped on the front! How could you k̥ͬ́ṇ͜o̢͕͊w͠? H̶͍ow c̽ͧ͒̆oul̷̶͐̓̔̚͠͝d̷ͯͤ͞ y͎̪̟ou̡̻̜̳͕͜͢͠ pǒ̸̴ͥͩ͟͟s̵̵̨͑́͡s̡̛̄ͣ̐̾͢͟͡͞҉i̷̧̢̐̀b̨̒͗̆ͬ͢͏͜͠҉ľͧ̂̊̒̐̑̕yͮ͑͊ ḵ̴̸̸̵̡̨͕̯̟̝̼̪͇͔̗̂͑̔͐ͬͣ͂̾͌̀͢͢͢͝n͕̟̈͐ͮ̇̿o̧̨̤̫̮̙̤̻͍̘̖̬̅̔̈́͑̃ͫ̿͌͋͆͗ͬ͟͏̵́w̴̷̧̨̛ͨ̐͑͗̆̊ͨͪ͆̐̒͒͝-


.̢̗͙̼̘͚͌̾̈̿̈́̓͊͗̎̍ͣ͟͟.̰̗̼̜͎͈͇͉̗̜̙̗̹̹͚͈͙͂ͦ̃ͧ̿̿͊̑́̀̏ͪͧ͒̓̂̚̕͢͠҉̢̡́͜͟͏̸͢.̶͔̲͎̮̺̭̦̩̅̆̐͋͘͡.̴̸̸̸̷͓̭̏̄͛̔͐͆ͤͣͨ͌͛ͫ̀͘͟͜͟͠͡/̴̸̡̨̐ͫ̌̀͑̒ͭ̏̏͜-̴͇̰͕͚̜̱̩̟͖̮̖̩̃̾̓ͦ̈̄ͨͮ̄͗ͧ̽̀͏̛͏͘͝҉́͏-̸̷̸̴̧̤̗̜̓̐́ͫ̑̑̽̒ͤ͑͜͜͠͝-̶̸̴̴̸̜̤̮ͬ̃ͬ̍̈́͑̐ͣ͗͑̔̽ͧ̅́̀̚͟͡͠͝҉̴̨͢͜/̷̵̢̺͚̻̫̎̃̋́ͣ̂ͪ͆̀͘͘͢͡͝͝͝͞.̻̳̤̫̪̖̤̖͖͉͖̲̖̫͒͗̔ͭͮ̒ͩ͘͜҉̴̡̡̀-͎̫̞̻͈̱͎̯̮̬͎̫́ͦ̔̆͋ͪ̓̍҉̢̨̛͜͞҉̶̨̨̛̛́̕̕͜͟͟͞-̭̘͔͆ͬ͛̑͂ͪ̓ͭ̔̈́̌͋͏͞҉̡͡͞͏̧̕͟͞͏̸̶̛́͜ ?








(Č͓̈́ͭẸ͓̖̟̱̏ͥ͏A͓͍̖̣͈̋ͣS̒ͥ̈͡ͅE͉ͣ̀͑ͤ̾̚ ̡̺̏͑ͫ͡͠ Y̸̢̗͙͐͂̉͋̃Ơ̲̬̜͇̼ͬ̄̽̇ͬ̉҉̷̷U̡̻̦̖͓͐ͦͣ͏̧͠R̸͙͕̫̲͓̙͛̐͊̓̓̍͢͟ ̨̡̰̝͉ͨ̃́̕͞͞ Q̬̈ͅ͏̴̵͏U͖͗́̕E̠͎͢S͖͎̜̭ͨ͜T̨̤͔ͪ̇͑͆Į̓̋͐͂ͤ̕҉Ọ̥̤Ǹ̩̮̤͖̬̀̕͝I̻̟̅ͦ̄̕͏̧͟͏͘N̛͉̰̟̻͕͓͑̐ͬG̔ͦ͂҉̨͜,̖̖͎̥͡ ̴̯̠̭͖͎̀҉̨̢͘ C̢̛̰̭͔̀͜͝H̴͞͏̶̢͢Ȉ̧̢̢̝̼̹̓ͨ̄̄̈́́͘͘Ļ̸̸̡ͬͮ͢͜ͅD̙̘̭̱ͣͨͦ.̷͎͕̎̌ͫ́ͬ̇͘͞͝͏ C̡̧̀̚̕̕͝O͖̒̎͏҉̷̢N̠̞̐̅̏̌ͬ͜T̶̓͗ͨ̐͐́́́͞͠Ĭ̳͈̓̄ͨ͞Ñ͔̞̓͋ͩ̐́Ǘ̡͕̙͍̰̩͖͂̍̀̕͜͝͡Ę̸͓͉͂̕͘͜͠ Ṯ̺͕͂̊H̵̸̵̴͓͓̺̘̝È͉̘̗ ̬̫̤̖̿P̸̷͙͞͠͏L̴̹̠̭̾͒͗͞Ȁ̙̜̪Y̸̱̆̿ͭ̿.̳̩͙͊͟͟͞)













You jump in surprise when Octavia's hand lands on your shoulder, fingers tightening on the confetti you seem to have made of the paper without thinking about it. (What were you thinking about..? Probably not important.)

"Sorry," Octavia steps back, raising her hand slightly as if to placate you. "You weren't answering me when I said it's time to go. You ready?"

Behind her, Henry is already standing by the next door, fidgeting with the Bag-o-Research and watching the two of you (Though it looks like he's trying to seem like he isn't watching. It's not working very well.)

"R-right. Yeah, I'm ready." You stand, dusting off the remaining scraps of paper still clinging to your jumpsuit. "Lead.. um. Lead the way."

Octavia doesn't move for a moment, staring at you (what is she looking for??) before nodding once and moving to join Henry on the other side of the room.

She pauses to make sure everyone is ready before opening the door, all of you bracing for the sound of a turret unfolding from the ceiling, but that doesnt happen. Instead, a soft green light starts to shine through the windows of the room, though whatever is causing it isn't immediately visible due to a wall. Octavia begins to step forward but you are (there's a corpse facing the window, socket burnt out and hollow) quick to grab the back of her jumpsuit and yank her away from the entrance (and consequently: to the floor.) She lets out a yelp of suprise as she falls, not that you can really hear it over the sound of your own heartbeat.

(Why is it so loud?)

(Why did she wander so far ahead?)

You inhale a stuttered breath, blinking rapidly as you step back from the door. (Were you not breathing before?) You bump into something warm (too warm) as you back up, causing you to skitter to the side slightly in (fear) surprise. A quick look reveals that it was Henry.

He's looking at you with trepidation, glancing between where Octavia now sits on the ground and your frantic face like some sort of puzzle needs to be solved.

"Hey uh, Kid... Why- Why'd you do that?" (Why does he seem scared to ask you that question? Why does he look so nervous?)

"D--" You take another stuttered breath. (Why aren't you breathing properly? Get it together.) "Don't... look at the light. E--" (Breathe.) "Especially you, Octavia."

Part of you wonders why you felt the need to add that last bit, but you dont have the time to really consider it as Octavia has gotten up and moved closer to the doorway again. You're quick to step in front of her and block the path. (Henry is still looking at you strangely)

Octavia attempts to sidestep and enter the room, but you move with her and continue blocking her path. She heaves a sigh, propping one hand on her hip as she sort-of glares at you.

"We need to keep moving. I'm sure we'll be fine passing through the room."

You're shaking your head before she's even finished speaking. "No, that-" You grimace, trying to sort the Knowing into something believeable. (the memory of a loud thud behind you while a man wails in grief is haunting)  "If you look at it, you'll die. A-and it can make you look."

Your teammates share a disbelieving glance with each other. (Fuck- you have to make sure they both survive this, but stopping someone from looking at something is near impossible. It'd be safest if neither of them even entered the room... wait.)

You stumble over your words as you try to explain the new thought. "I- I'll... let me go in alone- I'll" (Ugh. Get it together, no wonder they dont believe you) "I'll open the next door- it should leave after that." (you hope. The Knowing says yes, but...)

They still don't seem like they believe you.

"...Please," You add.

The pair share another look before Octavia sighs and nods.

"Alright. If..." She trails off. "Just be quick about it."

"Yes! Yes, I'll be quick." You turn and almost rush into the room, but keep yourself from outright sprinting. You don't want to make any mistakes, here. Stopping just before the light can reach you, you examine what you can see of the room. From what you can tell, the window the glow is coming from is overlooking one of those recessed workspaces full of individual desks. Directly across the room is the Navi-Path door you need to reach, fortunately, not one requiring a keycard or passcode. (Simple. Just have to make it to the other side without looking at the window.)

(Simple.)

You take a deep breath, steeling your mind against the lulling safety you know will seep in the second you step out of cover and focusing your eyes on the floor. Just walk straight, and dont look. Just walk straight, and dont look.

The first step is the hardest. Even mentally preparing yourself you stagger under the force of the Calm that tugs your head to the window. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, reorganizing your defenses before continuing to walk. Eyes squinted, you watch your feet as you keep placing one foot in front of the other. The waves of Calm and Safety cause you to sway slightly as you move, but you are quick to fall into a rhythm that almost uses the pulling to help propel you forward. Before you know it, you've stepped behind the wall on the opposite side of the room and are released from the incessent tug. Staggering again, this time from the sudden release of tension as you steady yourself against the wall, you take two deep breaths.

(Simple.)

Once you've regained equilibrium, You're quick to open the next marked door. The moment it clunks open, the glow behind you fades away. (Thank G̸̀͝͞҉͞͡ǫ̴̕͝d̸̢́͟͝͠. You are so glad the Knowing was correct.)

You turn back to your teammates, a delighted grin stretching across your face (not that you consciously realize. You're just happy that it worked.)

"It's safe now!" You call, joy bubbling up in your chest. (It worked. You protected your team and it worked!)

The pair step into the room, discussing something with each other as they move, sending glances your way. (You do not notice, already planning how to ask to do all rooms like this solo. (it worked it worked it worked!!!))

By the time Octavia and Henry reach you, you've got the beginnings of a script, though it flies out the window due to your enthusiasm.

"Hey!" (Woah there, little too excited with that greeting, dial it back) "Hey, I um. Can I do all the rooms that have the Green Light on my own?" You're fidgeting, the leftover elation from success buzzing through your bones and making it impossible to keep still.

Once again, your teammates share a Look. (you absently wonder why they keep doing that, but the thought leaves your mind when Henry speaks up)

"Sure thing, kid."

Octavia opens her mouth to say something, but is silenced by Henry shaking his head slightly. (You're too busy mentally cheering to notice.)

"Thanks!" You're still grinning as you leave the pair to go search the desks for loose data. (Once again, you miss the near-silent conversation between Octavia and Henry as they discuss... something.)

(It doesn't matter, though.)

(It worked. You kept your team safe.)

Your mind is left churning with thoughts on how to keep it that way while you cheerily hum and collect research.

Chapter Text

The plan to complete every Green room on your own goes swimmingly. Part of you was afraid that you'd encounter a room with both the light and turrets, but that never happened. (And you are quietly so so grateful for that fact. You dont think you'd be able to deal with a turret half as gracefully as Octavia does.)

(Speaking of turrets, there are far less now, as if the added danger from the green light was making up the difference instead.)

Your team is once again moving steadily through rooms, the lack of turrets definitely increasing your speed.

You've reached another lull in the constant dangers of the blacksite, a very large room with many, many siderooms to scour for data (and a complete lack of turrets or green lights).

"This'll take forever to search," Henry muses aloud, pursing his lips slightly as he looks over the area.

Octavia nods in agreement.

"Should we just... skip it?" Henry shuffles through the watertight Bag-o-Research. "I feel like we've got plenty, at this point."

Octavia nods again. "Yeah. I'd rather get this whole thing over and done with."

Both of them turn to you, and you shrug slightly.

" M'fine with that."

"Then it's decided. We keep moving." Octavia concludes, patting Henry on the shoulder as she steps past him.

"Actually the door is right there," Henry points down a side hallway to a door with a slightly sparking Navi-Path sign.

"So it is." Octavia changes direction, following Henry down the hallway. You follow as well, unease building in your gut.

The unease crescendos as Henry reaches for the latch, and you once again find yourself yanking a teammate away from a door. (a man screams as he is dragged into the darkness, cold metal slamming shut behind him)

"Ow- fuck-- " Henry curses, glancing up at you. "What the hell, kid?"

Octavia narrows her eye at you, not that you notice with your focus entirely on the Navi-Path sign.

"Th- the sign," you stutter, combing a hand through your hair. "It's sparking- none of the other signs spark."

"Faulty wiring." Octavia states, still watching you closely.

"I-- yeah, maybe but..." You grimace. "Let me check something first?"

Octavia sighs. "Fine."

Henry has gotten up off the floor at this point, lingering slightly behind Octavia and murmuring something to her, not that you're paying attention to that. You're busy slowly approaching the door as though it might bite you if you move too fast. (It doesnt.)

Still moving slowly, you lean your ear up against the wall next to the door. You aren't quite sure what you're listening for but-

Theres breathing. Deep and heavy with a low gurgling stertor grumbling with each breath. The sound makes the hair on your neck stand on edge. (It sounds like a predator)

"Breathing," the word comes as an exhale your teammates struggle to hear. You take a deeper breath as you step away from the wall. "There's breathing behind the door."

"What?"

"Look, just-" You make a gesture towards the door "Lean up against the wall and listen."

Henry is the first to step forward, beckoning Octavia slightly as he does so. She rolls her eye, but follows regardless. The two of them lean up on opposite sides of the closed door, listening.

"Fuck, Octavia beathes, leaning back and staring at the door. "Fuck. Henry, they were right."

(Wow. You knew she didn't really believe you but she doesnt have to sound so surprised about it.)

Henry nods as he also leans back. "Yeah. But... this is the marked door, how are we supposed to--" He cuts off when he notices you walking around the corner. "Kid? where are you going?"

"Checking something." You respond, peering over the railing that guards the staircase down to a lower floor that none of you had bothered examining.

...There! At the bottom, theres a door with a lit sign hidden by a wall. If you didn't lean over the railing like you are now, you wouldn't be able to see it at all.

Henry and Octavia have wandered up beside you by now, and you point down the staircase.

"Theres another lit sign down there."

"Really?" Henry leans over the railing, peering down. "Huh. Good eye, kid." He pats you on the back as he moves around the railing to descend the staircase and you have to fight the urge to cringe.

(Ough. Yeah, it definitely wasn't just Sidney. You dont like being touched at all.)

"Lets go check it out. Coming, Octavia?"

"Yeah." She is once again giving you a searching look. (Hope she finds what she's looking for on her own because you have no clue on how to possibly help.) "On my way." She follows Henry.

The three of you soon arrive at the second marked door, and you're the first one to step forward. Not to open it, but to lean up against the wall and listen.

"No breathing." You pull back, and without warning your teammates, open the door.

The two of them jump a bit, but the only thing behind the door is a long hallway, with another Navi-Path door at the end of it. An electronic voice suddenly crackles over the intercom.

"UUUUGH, You're no fun!!!"

All of you pause at that. (Huh. That's... You'll have to puzzle over that later, though. Gotta keep moving.)

It seems like your companions share your thought, as none of you bring up the strange voice. Instead, Henry turns to you and places a hand on your shoulder. (Oh no.)

You're fighting the urge to grimace and cringe away from the too-hot contact when he speaks.

"Thanks for the save, kid." He smiles tightly. "Really don't wanna think about what might've happened if I opened that door- so."

(Okay great please let go.)

Octavia pulls his hand off you, and you barely catch her murmur to Henry over your own discomfort.

"You're making them uncomfortable."

"Right," Henry winces, then toward you; "Sorry."

"...S'fine," you mumble, surreptitiously rubbing your shoulder to try and get rid of the leftover tingling.

Octavia glances at you, but doesnt say anything about your discomfort, instead turning back to Henry. "Lets get moving."

"Right," Henry nods, glancing at you with a weird expression for a moment. "Lets."

You also nod in assent, rolling your shoulders as your merry group of three continues deeper into the blacksite.

-

There are far less turrets now, and the Green Light is also showing up less. It's putting you on edge. All of you are extra careful with the marked doors now, making sure to check if there are duplicates down the hallways you might not have investigated before the mimicry incident. (There aren't. The lack of danger is putting you on edge. Several times you think to speak up and tell your team about the Angler, but... How would you explain knowing about it? They've trusted you so far but you don't really want to push it. So you remain silent.)

Octavia has just opened door number 47 when something changes. The room in question is completely dark, save for the red emergency lighting and a single floodlight pointed at a vent on the wall. The vent cover falls to the floor with a clatter, and a low, smooth voice calls from within.

"Hey, over here!"

"Oh, what the fuck-" Henry mumbles. "We don't trust that, right?" He looks to Octavia "That seems like something we don't trust."

Octavia nods, her sharp focus entirely on the vent.

She says something to Henry, but you've stopped listening, staring blankly at the dark hole lit by the floodlight with furrowed brows. You.... don't have any gut feelings here. No curl of dread like with the Angler or the Green Light, and no conspicious absence of danger like those weird squid-looking things you saw during your expedition with Kevin and Estelle. For once... you... don't know something.

Henry and Octavia are still having a hushed discussion by the doorway when you step into the room and up to the vent, stopping just outside of it and crouching down.

(Theres a light at the other end... should you... go in? Even if you die, you'd learn something for next time, right?)

"Heyy, no need to be so skittish, I don't bite~" The creature(?) beyond the vent comments.

(...)

(Fuck it.)

You place your hands on the floor and start to crawl through the vent, only to pause at a startled exclaimation from Henry.

"Kid!? What are you doing, don't go in there-"

"It'll be fine," you interrupt. "And if it isn't fine, only one of us will be dead." (You ignore the fact you haven't told them about the Angler. They wouldn't believe you, and... you want to trust that something is safe, down here.)

"Ohhohhohh, that's hurtful! I already said I don't bite. Why dont you come in here and we'll meet face-to-face," The voice purrs, echoing slightly in the enclosed space.

You continue crawling through the vent when no further protest comes from your companions, silently cursing the bulky PDG that keeps knocking against the top of the vent as you traverse.

The metal tunnel isn't very long, and like you saw before, there's a light on the other end. You note that it is a second floodlight pointed at the vent, the rest of the room being pitch dark in comparison... save for two glowing blue dots hovering around 15 feet up in the air that blink at you as you exit.

(EYES. THOSE ARE EYES.)

A light flickers on, a warm glow emanating from a lure on the head of a massive creature.
You only get the chance to take in 'Blue', 'Large' and 'Three arms' before it starts speaking.

"Welcome, welcome!" It makes a dramatic gesture with all three arms, spreading them wide before clasping the top two together in front of its chest. You note that it is wearing a fancy shirt and long tenchcoat, though the coat is defintely only considered 'long' if it were worn by a human. On this thing, it's more like a long shirt with a split in the front.

"Dont 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." 'Sebastian' leans forward, pressing its (his?) third hand to his (its??) chest. His (you're just gonna go with 'he') face has a broad grin revealing rows of sharp teeth. He returns to his normal upright position.

(Behind you, the vent clunks as (presumably) your teammates go through it.)

"If I'm correct, your supervisors have told you to secure 'loose assets'. Documents, vials, whatever." He makes a dismissive gesture with his top left arm before reclasping his hands and leaning forward slightly. You note his eyes flicker to look at something behind you, and you figure Octavia and Henry have entered the room.

"However, if I can make it worth your while, I'm gonna ask you to cut a deal." He points at your group with one of his arms. "You give me any research you might have on you, and I'll give you some of these items I've scavenged." He uses the same arm to make a sweeping gesture at the (holy SHIT) long tail that lays pressed up against two walls. "Here, you can just pick it off my tail." the large fin at the end flicks slightly as he continues.

"These would be far more useful to you compared to some 'silly data', no?" (He's absolutely correct, of the five items strapped to his (ridiculous) tail, three of them look immediately useful; A medkit, a flashlight and some sort of lantern.)

"If you don't ask questions, I won't either. You get yours, and I get mine." He grins again. (Quite frankly! It is very threatening!)

"And, if you already have anything that might be running low on juice, you can buy batteries from the table next to me." He waves to the table next to him which is indeed covered in batteries.

"Whenever you wanna get going, the keycard to the next zone is by the radio. Free of charge! No strings attached~" He's still smiling (threateningly!!!), top hands once again clasped in front of his chest while his third just kind of lurks below them.

Octavia gives the massive fish-creature a long look before walking over to the radio and picking up the keycard.

"All I ask is that you leave it on the floor in this zone before you continue onwards. Best to keep the dangers of the Blacksite out, hmm?"

"...Right." (Oh she absolutely does not trust Sebastian. that look in her eye is fridged.)

(To be fair, though. The entire time Sebastian was talking it felt like he was sizing you up for a meal. It was probably less of a 'predator hunting prey' thing and more a 'used car salesman spotting an easy mark', but that doesnt actually change much when the person doing it is a massive fuck-off fish creature.)

Glancing back and forth between Octavia and Sebastian, you can tell the woman has questions. She doesnt ask them, though, instead turning to Henry and sharing a Look. (What the fuck do those looks even mean?)

(Whatever.)

You leave the two of them to their silent conversation, instead focusing your full attention on 'Sebastian' (who looks quietly amused at the way your teammates are 'talking')

As you've stated multiple times, he is massive. His 'upper body' is humanoid save for the third arm, but below the waist is where the 'humanoid' description falls apart. Instead of legs, he has a loooong tail (like that of a naga or a mermaid) ending in a large whale-like fin. (you think the proper terminology is 'fluke', but you could be wrong.) The tail is around 3 times the length of his torso (and considering his torso is the same size as your entire body, thats! pretty fuckin huge!). Layered over the blue scales on his tail are a multitude of straps and belts securing the five 'shop' items in place.

It seems like Henry and Octavia come to some sort of consensus, as Henry has started pulling research out of the bag for Sebastian to inspect. (You tune out their voices, keeping to your intense examination of the... Whatever you'd call a massive fish-creature-mutant-thing because 'merman' does not feel like the proper terminology here.)

His face and head are just as interesting as the rest of him, blue skin with a few smatterings of scales like freckles across his cheekbones and the complete lack of a nose. There's a sort of bump where it should be, but no slits or openings to allow breathing. His mouth is... disproportionately large, stretching practically from ear to ear. (You're pretty sure he could fit someone's entire head in his mouth if he really tried, which is a concerning thought to have.)

Speaking of ears; he doesnt have those! instead he has a pair of fins placed right where ears would be on a human, parting black hair. Said hair is greasy and unevenly cut; hanging to his shoulders in a tangled mess. As he examines various folders your teammates hand him he absentmindedly brushes some of it out of his eyes, revealing a third eye directly above his regularly placed right eye. (You find it a bit weird that he has hair. Why would a fish have hair??) Out of the top of his forehead is where the angler's lure protrudes, emitting the light all of you are seeing by.

He is also returning your stare with slightly narrowed eyes. Neither Octavia nor Henry seem to notice, the flat blue having no real indication of what direction he's looking. To them, it probably seems like he's just examining another bit of data. (And yet you can tell. You know he's looking at you.)

You wave slightly before turning to explore the room. (No need to keep staring like a creep.)

Slightly tuning back in to what Octavia is discussing with Sebastian for a moment, you catch what sounds like some intense haggling on both ends. (Whatever, you'll leave them to it. There are items to look at.)

The room is full to the brim with bits and bobs. You can see various other items on boxes and shelving (another lantern, a few flashlights, etc), but given they're not on Sebastian's tail, you assume these probably aren't 'for sale' at the moment. You're leaning down with your hands clasped behind your back to get a closer look at some kind keycard-esque wired contraption when Henry calls out to you.

"Hey, kid! It's time to go." He's standing next to the vent, Octavia already beginning to crawl through.

" 'kay."

Sebastian's voice follows the three of you as you exit the vent.

"Pleasure doing business with you. Bye~"

Finding the door isn't all that hard, given the keypad/card reader glows in the dark. Octavia opens it and waits for everyone to step through before pausing. Her grip tightens on the keycard for a moment before she tosses it back through the door and continues walking.

(Huh. Wonder what that was all about.)

-

The group is very quiet for a while after leaving 'Sebastian's Shop' (As you've taken to calling it in your head.) It feels strange, given before this Henry and Octavia would make smalltalk to pass time. (Maybe they've run out of conversation topics. You would have run out like 20 doors ago, so you're a little impressed they kept it up for so long.)

The silence remains until you all reach another keycard door in a room full of more siderooms. Then, the only real talk happening was a command from Octavia to 'split up and search'. (Makes sense, there are a lot of side rooms here.)

As you wander into one of the siderooms to start looking for a keycard (or password), you turn your thoughts back to the Angler. You really need to find a way to tell your team about it soon, preferably before it sneaks up on the group. (The fact that it has yet to show up at all is unsettling. In your previous... 'runs', it wasn't an infrequent visitor so the fact that it's been completely absent... well. You don't like it, that's for sure.)

Clearing that room, you move to the next.

Aside from the Angler, you also need to tell them about those creatures inside some of the lockers. That should be relatively simple- just find one and point it out- but then you really have to find a way to bring up the fucking Angler.

(Even thinking to yourself it sounds unbelievable. 'Flickering lights and screaming means we have to hide'. How the fuck would you explain knowing about it? Maybe you can point out the locker creatures and warn the group when the Angler actually shows up. So far they've been tolerant of your weirdness... maybe they'll keep being tolerant. You hope so.)

You're once again moving to another room, still knee deep in thoughts about how to tell your team. The only warning you get before things go catastrophically wrong is a weird, low-pitched 'doot', followed by a high-pitched triple beep when your foot knocks into something.

Then it's just w h i t e.

Your ears are ringing, and your eyes can't focus-

(Why are you looking at the ceiling-)

The tile is cold against your back but you cannot feel your legs-

(Oh, there's Octavia and Henry- They look worried about something-)

The blurry faces have their mouths moving but-

(They need to speak up, You can't hear them-)

(Why is it... getting dark?)

(Need....to tell.... th e   m...)





(̖҉A̢ͩ͂́̕̕͡ ̷̡͍̄͘͟͠F̨̢̢̼͓̳̪̃̽͐̕͞Ǎ̢̯̫̩ͨͅ҉Ņ̢̞ͫ̏ͦ̂̄͢͟͠T̸̢̩̹͚̋ͫ̀̈̚҉A̷̢̢̛̼ͨ͐͞S̝͍̬̏͆͜ͅͅT͚̊̇͗I̡͔̘C̮̆͌͆̉̉ ̢̞̠̗̭̜ͦͭ̍҉̀́ S̢̞̥̲͍̹Ḧ́̿O̶̱͆͒͌͘͞͝W̮Į̴̔ͥ̀͢͞͠N̡̆ͫ̏̅͏͞G̡̨̛̯̾̓͠ͅ.̷̛͕͎̱̩ͨͩͥ́͠)̪̩̙̝͉ͭ̅ͬ̿͂




(̢̖̤̬̇̏̒͂̆̑ͥͫͫ͡A͎͉̫̝̻̬̰̜͕̼̳̘̯̦̮ͅG̨̡̘͚͙̲̏ͫ̓ͥͫͮ̆͘͟ͅA̸̢̠͔̯̘̥̦̙̮͐̉̍ͦ͞ͅĮ̷̶̨̥̳̖̼͇̥̖̮̼̤̟̺̱̇ͪ̀́̕͟͡͞Ñ̵͎͍̘͙̔́͋͋̌͠͏̷̷̵̨̛̀́̀̕̕͜͠͡.̨̼̼̱̪ͤ̎̾͆ͦͣͬͩ̿̎̑̃̐ͪͯ́̕͏̶̷̡̢̕͟͢͢͟͡͠҉)͔̮͙͉̜̥̫̫͔͚̱̳ͧ̍̓̆͗̀̕͡ͅͅ

Chapter Text

You wake with your legs feeling like they are on fire. It takes all your effort not to begin screaming in agony as you curl slightly on the floor. (Hhhholy ffuckinggshit)

(Oͤ͏W OWͣ OW̐͠ ͑Ỏ͞Wͭ͟ ͟OW̔ ̶ͧOW OW ̒͡Oͯ̀W ́̚O̕W̡̅ ̉͝O̚͝W̚ ̈́͞F͊F̢̅F̑͏F̵̓UCK̢ͧ OW)

Desperately trying to gather your thoughts around the pain (A͞A̧A͢AA͂AU͛҉U͑U̡G̴Ḩ̑) you take stock of your situation. Your hands are cuffed, and you can hear other people shuffling around you.

(A̺̙ͮA̴̗̚͠A͇ͧ̑A̟̺͘A̘A̜͍̽̅͏̷AA̫͕̒̀Ạ̯À͙Å̈́A̟͛Ä̟̋AH! FUCK!)

(Why does it hurt so much-)

Your vision whites out as something hauls you off the floor and to your feet, a choked gasp of pain catching in your throat.

(̈F̍͟UCk...)

Whatever pulled you up now starts forcing you to move, the babble of speech recognizable but unintelligable due to the pain fuzzing out all thought in your mind.

(You dont even have the mental energy to scream anymore, all of your processing power being put into not falling on your face as you're dragged somewhere.)

(Finally, your mind starts to drift away. You can't be in pain if it's not your body, right?)






(Ḩ̖͡M̨̡̤̦M͐M̮ͣͨ.͝ ͓̙̀̽ I̫̊͛͡T̅ͪ͞ ̦ S̱̬͂̂Ḛ̵̙̓̑͝E̢͕̣͝M̧Ŝ̕҉ ̤͢A͈̮̅N̒̈͢ ̘̘A̭̤ͤD̖̗ͣJ̤U͝͏Ş̏̑T̳҉M̠ͨE͂N҉Ṯͧ͢͝  ̴͜I̭͈͋ͤS̷͇ ͞Ị͞N͍̪͑͊́͜ ̮̯͒O̢͂͞Ȓ͚̳̓͢D͍̈EͬR̋.̹ͬ̀͘ͅ)


(I͎̞͌ͮ͟T̓̀ ̜̲̅W̡ͣỈ̊͜L͛̑L̦͕̒͜ ̨̙̋ͬN̸̖̪͑̋Ō̧T̰͊͢ ̹̮ͨ̇D̪O̾̈́ ̣͚҉͢TƠͦ ̧̢̺̎Ḥ̏̈́͝Ā̵͔͖V͛̅Ȩ̼̗͗͗͝ ͡ Ơ͈̯̈́U̞̐R͍͙̀͏͜ M͏̶̡̢̡̧̀̕͘͏̶̵̧̕͜͟Ą̷́͘͢͜͡͠͞͠I͏҉́̕҉̸̵̵̴̡̡͞N̵͜ ̢҉̡͝C̶̴̛̀̀͟H͏̵̀́A͢҉̴̶̶̶̵̀̀̕̕͏̡͟҉҉͡R̷̨̢͞҉̀͝͡͡͝҉̶̧̡͜A̶̴̸̷͠҉̵̵̵̢̛̀͡͡C̸̛T̨̧̨̨̢̛̀̀͘̕͜͞͠͡҉͏É̶̢͏͏̷̨̛̀͢͠͝͝͞͡͡R̵̀̕͢͟͡͠͏̧͝  ͞͝҉̨̡̢́͢҉̸̷̶́͟ Ó̗͍́Ũ̴͇͡T̨̤̠ͫ ̵̨͐ͬÓ̵̘F̸͈͢ͅ ̸̣̙ͭCO͛M̸̘M̛̲̍̒͞I̟҉S͇̮͡S̪̈I̶̧̭̲O̧̤͕͋ͯN̵͢.̨)


-

Between one moment and the next, You are fully conscious and cognizant of your surroundings. You're standing in the Blacksite dock, and the pain from your legs is a fading memory.

(What the fuck?)

(You- that--)

(What the fuck??)

The other members of your squad (Who you dont remember seeing before this moment, despite having presumably shared a submarine with them, what the fuck) are moving through the marked Navi-path door, so you move to follow them.

What even happened?? The last thing you remember before pain is Octavia and Henry's worried faces above you. Did you die..? (You must have, given you're in the Blacksite with a new squad, but what the hell caused it this time??)

You shuffle behind your new teammates, absently scanning desks and drawers for data as has become second nature while you think.

...You've got nothing, and you didn't even get to warn Octavia and Henry about the Angler or the locker creatures! (Not that you're entirely sure your warning would have been believable, but its the principal of the matter! (You were supposed to keep them safe))

(...You really hope they're ok.)

Setting your worry aside for now, you instead turn your mind towards your new team. You have no idea what these people are like. You suppose you could wait and eavesdrop to get some measure of their personalities and go from there, but you feel the need to warn them about the dangers now so you dont leave them helpless (like you did Octavia and Henry-)

You adjust the various files and papers you have gathered, glancing up to see which teammember looks to be in charge of the Bag when the lights flicker.

(SHIT.)

Frantically, you glance around the room. For once in this G̸̀͝͞҉͞͡ǫ̴̕͝d̸̢́͟͝͠forsaken facility, there are no lockers in sight.

(SHIT)

(Could you make it to the next area and maybe find a side room- (you already hear the bulbs popping there's no time--))

You're turning to face the door when you die.



(H̤́̒̅͌M̶͙͇͍ͅM̺ͦͨ́͟͠͏̶͡)͕̘̭̞


(͡D̝͚̂O̝͉ͪ͘͝ ͬ̀T̞͛̍R̹̙̿̅Ỳ͡ ͪ͗T̴͜Ơ̭͙ͦ̓҉ ̴̡P͉AY̲͑ ̆͐M̘̙̐͗͞O̢̪R̍Ḙ̵̩̈́ A̩̜T̲̒ͣT̓͊E̵̯ͫ͗͠Ṇ̗T̶̷I̟̎O͇N̄ ̷̯N̦̩ͬ̿҉̷E̜X̗̓͒҉͏Tͫ́ ̻ͦ́͞T͓̊IM͈̳Ȩͤ͂ͅ.̹͚͆͟)͑



(̨̧̢̛͎͔̗ͪͮ̀̀͘͠Ḁ̴̘̤͙̻̟̈͋̾̐҉̛̛G̡͔̣̬̤̦͓̥̜͇̔͟͡Ǡ̬̗I̱̭̗͝N̺̗̞̙͔̠̫͓̅ͯ͟)̵̸̧̙̰̂̂́̕͠

--

You wake with a jolt, half-remembered panic causing you to sit upright.

Fuck. with all your confusion on what the hell happened last run (or would it be last-last run, now?), you genuinely forgot to be on watch for the Angler. (Stupid of you, given you were stressing so much about how to warn your teammates about it. You'll probably just bite the crazy bullet and tell people straight up; it's not really your fault if they die after that, right?)

The briefing and locker room go as normal, and you actually get a good look at your teammates as you all settle down in the submarine. One man, one woman, a being of indeterminate gender, and yourself.

The woman is to put it bluntly, stunning. Her hair is long and perfectly styled, framing a face that should probably be on a supermodel rather than the criminal she actually is. Despite not actively doing anything, she constantly looks like she's posed for a photoshoot, and her body language screams confidence. (She somehow makes the expendable jumpsuit look fashionable, which is quite honestly impressive.)

The man is... intimidating. What little skin that's visible is absolutely covered in tattoos, including his face and head (which is devoid of hair, making said tattoos obvious.) He's built like a brick shithouse sort of like Ryan from your second run, but stronger. Ryan looked like he pumped steroids at a gym, this man looks like he professionally beats people to death for a living. (He's also not-so-subtly glaring at the woman. Not in a weird, leering way- it seems like he genuinely hates her for some reason. You just hope that beef doesnt get them killed like Ryan and Jim's did.)

The being of indeterminate gender is... the only word that comes to mind is 'Skrunkly.'  Their hair...well, 'curly' isn't a strong enough word, but 'afro' isn't the right descriptor either. Whatever it is, it's fluffed out from their head about 2 inches, and covers their eyes completely. They have a silly-feral grin on their face while they fidget with the Bag-O-Research, which reveals one of their front teeth is chipped. Other than that they're fairly average in build, maybe a tad short (hard to tell when they're sitting kind of slumped).

The ride is mostly silent until the woman finally breaks the silence.

"Cyrus, dear, it's awfully rude to stare like that."

(Holy shit even her voice is fucking supermodel quality.)

The man sneers, hands tightening on his folded arms.

"Apologies, Madame." He spits out the title like an insult.

"Oh, are you still hung up on that? Kingpin, darling, you know we both work in the same industry~" If she had a cigarette, you feel like she would have casually taken a puff right there. (She doesn't, so all she does is adjust her seating while leaning back casually.)

You jump slightly when Cyrus (or 'Kingpin' but that feels more like a nickname) slams his fist into the hull of the submarine.

"Like hell we do," he hisses, finally turning to face the woman completely. "You know as well as I do that I don't deal in slaves."

"Ha! Caro mio, it's not slavery. It's... hmmm~" she smiles, tapping a finger on her cheek. "Gainful employment."

"Gainful employment!? That's not what I'd call stealing children and forcing them to work in your goddamned fucking whorehouses."

"Mmm~" she hums cheerily, eyes half-lidded as she finally meets Cyrus' glare head-on. "It's certainly gainful for me, carissimo. You're just upset I didn't include you in my plans."

Its clear that statement pushed some sort of button, as Cyrus looks to be gearing up to scream at her. He doesn't, though. He visibly clenches his teeth and despite still being obviously furious, backs down.

"Rochelle." (It's impressive how much hate he packs into that single word. You're intimidated, and you're not even the target!)

"Rochelle, you know that's-"

You're pulled from your focus on the (frankly, fascinating) argument by a light tap on your arm. Your fluffy-haired teammate has scooted slightly closer to you and seems to want your attention. Once they have it, they start making shapes and motions with their hands. (Oh, is that... Sign Language? You dont know any sign language.)

"I, uh." You keep your voice quiet below the one-sided shouting match (seems like Cyrus decided to start yelling anyway). "Sorry, I don't understand sign language."

They silently sigh and shrug slightly, before gently tapping you again (somehow, their light contact doesnt burn as hot as every other touch you've experienced thusfar) and pointing at the Bag-O-Research.

"...The bag..? What about it?"

They very deliberately make a sign with their hands, pausing to repeat it when you don't seem to understand their meaning the first time. (Are they... Oh!)

"Is- is that the sign for 'bag'?" You're smiling slightly now, excitement delicately growing in your chest. (This is the first time one of your teammates has reached out to you specifically, it feels... nice)

They nod energetically, before pointing to their shoes and making another sign.

"...Shoe?"

They nod again, and continue pointing at items and making signs. It doesnt take long for you to start clumsily copying them, their enthusiam to teach infectious. You even start asking how to sign specific things and allowing them to gently correct and reposition your hands when you fumble. (It doesnt burn, when they do it. Maybe its the explicit permission, or maybe they're just built different, but whatever it is... it isn't bad.)

(Neither of you are paying attention to the argument which has cooled down significantly. You're both too busy making a friend.)

-

By the time the submarine reaches the Blacksite dock you've gained a vocabulary of various random signs and learned how to fingerspell the alphabet. (You've also created a sort of back-and-forth communication style with your silent yet joyful teammate (Who turns out to be named Taph) which should prove useful for the journey through the blacksite. (You'd hate to let them die))

Cyrus and Rochelle seem to have calmed down. (Or, well, Cyrus has. He was the one doing the yelling during the argument.) There's still some tension between them, but Cyrus at least seems to be restraining himself to simple glares and the cold shoulder for now. (Rochelle doesnt seem to care either way.)

The four of you disembark and listen to HQ's second briefing, after which Rochelle speaks up.

"Ah~ Walking all the way to our objective will be such a hassle..." She places one palm on her cheek as she muses.

"Less of a hassle now that you're not wearing those godforsaken heels," Cyrus responds, seemingly unable to resist scoffing at the woman.

"Darling, you know I was the absolute height of fashion. Those heels made a statement~" She purrs, smirking at him.

"Yeah, a 'statement' that you didn't feel tall enough already. You're practically 6ft without them, you did not need to add another 8 inches."

Rochelle is about to respond when Taph draws your attention away by tapping your shoulder lightly. Once they're sure they have your focus, they make a show of pulling an invisible ring off their finger and pointing a thumb at where your other two teammates continue to spar verbally.

It takes you a moment to get it, but when you do you have to stifle your laughter.

"Y- ha- Yeah, they really are like an old married couple, huh?"

Taph shakes their head and exaggeratedly takes off the ring again.

"Sorry, an old divorced couple," you correct with a smile.

They match your smile with their own chipped grin before waving you to follow. It looks like the 'divorcees' have stopped bickering and started moving forward.

-

You and Taph continue your makeshift sign language lessons as the group moves, with Taph throwing in a few marriage-and-relationship-related signs just so they can make fun of Cyrus and Rochelle more effectively with you. (Those two are still sniping at each other occasionally. It seems like they're both avoiding the 'hot' topics, so it really does make them sound like some sort of estranged couple) Taph is in the middle of a particularly difficult sign when they bump into Cyrus' back.

Peering around to see what caused him to stop moving, you yourself freeze. It's a hallway like any other save for the fact that three bodies lay in the middle, two of which are tangled together as though they died during some sort of brawl. (You recognize this hallway. You recognize those bodies.)

Rochelle is the first one to move, striding over to the bodies with a casual air about her. Cyrus is quick to follow, crouching down and rolling one tangled body away from the other.

"...They've been dead for at least a day, rigor mortis isn't present anymore," He comments, lifting one arm off the floor. "Cold, too. No rotting smell just yet either, so it can't have been more than 3 days."

"It never ceases to amaze how quickly you can get so much information from a corpse, caro mio, Kingpin mine~" Rochelle purrs, leaning over his shoulder and speaking almost directly into his ear.

Cyrus seems to stutter a bit, blinking rapidly in surprise and glancing at Rochelle before quickly returning his gaze to the corpse.

"...It's a a useful skill to have," He mumbles, dropping the arm.

"Oh I know, carissimo. It was a compliment~" She trails a hand featherlight across his shoulders, causing him to shiver slightly.

He abruptly stands, sidestepping away from the still-smirking woman.

"I'm more concerned that there's no obvious cause of death. No external injuries on any of the bodies, save for some bruises that aren't nearly severe enough to kill someone," He muses, pacing over to where the third body lies on its back. (Shit-stirrer. You remember rolling him over to check for signs of life, right after the Angler passed through.)

Rochelle and Cyrus continue talking, but you've tuned them out now, the inital shock finally pushed away by the flood of thought now filling your mind.

Is your body still in the facility somewhere? The corpse torn from a locker, the throatless body, whatever happened to you with Octavia and Henry... Are all of them still laying somewhere, rotting slowly? The path you took the last time you were here is covered by rubble, now, so you won't be able to actively check... (Are you relieved or scared by that fact? Is it better not to know..?)

You're pulled from your thoughts by Taph tapping your shoulder, their mouth pulling into a concerned frown. They ennunciate their signing, slowing down each movement so you can keep up.

"You-OK?"

You nod a bit, and they continue.

"What- H-A-P-P-E-N ?" They fingerspell the second word before demonstrating the sign for it, and repeat their question once they're sure you understand.

"What-Happen?"

"I... I know what happened to these people," You start, wringing your hands slightly.

Taph simply tilts their head and gestures for you to continue.

"I- I know it sounds... insane, but- I- the creature that caused this-" You stumble over your words, frustration lining your features as you avert your eyes from your companion.

Taph taps your hands to pull your eyes back to them.

"Take-Your- T-I-M-E"

"I-- When the lights flicker, this.. creature comes. It's... fast, but as long as you're out of sight it won't kill you. I call it, um... 'The Angler'." You cringe slightly at the name (it feels embarassing now that you've said it out loud) before continuing. "You can... uh, hide in lockers to stay safe, but you have to make sure the, um, that there isn't a locker creature in it first." You keep your focus entirely on Taph's hands, not wanting to see the doubt on their face.

"How- K-N-O-W  M-O-N-S-T-E-R  P-R-E-S-E-N-T ?"

You blink a bit once they've finished spelling the last word. (They're... not asking how you know about the monsters, they're... asking how to tell if a monster is in a locker?)

"Um- there should be, like. Glowing eyes, visible through the slats," You mumble, still wringing your hands. (The skin is a bit raw, now, but you can't make yourself stop.)

"Why..." You trail off.

"Why do you... believe me? About the creatures?"

Taph taps your hands again and deliberately brings their own hands up far enough so you have to see their face while they sign.

"F-R-I-E-N-D-S"  They demonstrate the sign after spelling it, before continuing. "Friends- T-R-U-S-T Friends." They finish with a beaming grin.

"...Because we're friends..?"

Taph nods enthusiastically before opening their arms wide and beckoning you forward. (Oh, they want a hug... You're not sure if...)

(...Might as well.)

(You can be uncomfortable for a bit if it makes them happy)

You timidly step into the hug, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable heat of another person, but it doesnt come. Instead, it's a simple comforting pressure across your back. Slowly, you raise your arms and gently return the embrace, relaxing slightly. (It doesn't continue for long, soon that uncomfortable heat starts building under your skin forcing you to step away, but... it was nice, while it lasted.)

-

The next time you spot a locker creature, you make sure to bring Taph over to see it. They bring up the fact that the creature actually makes a sort of weird bubbly gloopy noise (which you hadn't noticed), and that the bottom of the locker is strangely wet (you had noticed that, just forgot to mention it). They also make sure to emphasize that they would have continued to believe you, even without proof (touching, if a little concerning!)

Taph continues to teach you words, and creates a sign specifically for the locker creatures because they were getting tired of signing 'locker-monster' over and over. (The sign is just the signs for 'void' and 'locker' smooshed together into something new. (It took a long back-and-forth for you to understand what Taph meant by 'void'; they meant 'void' like a long fall off a cliff- avoidable so long as you dont step over the edge, which strikes you as an incredibly accurate assesment of the danger these creatures pose.)) They also continue to poke fun at Cyrus and Rochelle who, while Cyrus still seems tense at times, have settled fully into their strange bickering conversations.

Taph is in the middle of teaching you how to swear when the lights flicker overhead for almost a full second. (You don't hear the screaming yet, either, which seems a bit odd.)

"Angler, probably," You murmur, and usher Taph towards a safe locker.

"I'll warn Cyrus and Rochelle, you stay here."

Taph nods and gives you a thumbs up before you turn to walk over to the still-bickering pair.

You don't bother waiting for a good moment to interject (The Angler is fast. You need to warn them fast.).

"Cyrus, Rochelle."

The pair seem slightly startled at your interruption as they turn to face you.

"Ah- Yes, amico mio? Did you need something?" Rochelle asks, placing a palm on her cheek.

"You both need to find a locker to hide in. Something's coming this way." (For some reason, it's less anxiety-inducing to try and warn your teammates this time.)

Cyrus' eyes narrow. "And how do you know that, exactly?" he challenges, stepping forward slightly.

"The lights flickered. That means something is headed this way." You fight to keep frustration from your voice.

"Ah~ Are you certain it isn't simply an issue with the wiring here? It's certainly quite dilapidated already," Rochelle pointedly looks at some nearby rubble and debris, raising a single perfect eyebrow.

(Ugh. Clearly convincing them will take too much time.)

"Whatever," you bite out. "Die if you want to."

You turn to head back to Taph and the lockers, dissatisfaction bubbling in your chest. (You tried. That's enough, right? That you tried?)

You're about three feet away when the screaming reaches your ears and everything goes dark.






(̝ͭ̃̓N̟O̡͙ͦͫ͏̴Tͪͧ͞ ̢̯̭ͅQ̛͚̻̒̀́U̬̖̝̽͑͏̴̕I̢̲̥T͇̒̄̊E̾ͭ́ ̷̡̯̦̥͋F̤̰̼̏́͜͏Ả̶̳S͍̮͌͏̢͢T͍̓҉  ̧̍̆̕E̸͖N̤͈̮҉O͌̀U̷̳̮̣̓͗̅G̢͈̖̖̀H͚̱ ̵̞͉̅͢͝T͉̖O̯̣̹ͨ̌ͩ ̧̺͗̌H͏I̽̈́D̙̻͐E̴͆́͜,̡̛̓̀ͣ ̵̧̝̫͆̊ͨ͢W̡̡͍̝̚͠E̶͇̯ͪ̀͝Ř̶̷̪̙̹̕E̡̫̞͟͡ ̛̀Y̓͂́O̩̣͚̒̒̀Ù̋́?́̐́͜)͙̓



(̠̝͎ͮͦA̸̦̰̅̊̓͜͠G̅͌À̶̛̛̦͓̖ͅḬ̱̫͡N̵̛̦̫̩̺͌̒͘.̥͊̅͟͢͡)̵ͥ̇ͧ͗͟͟͞