Chapter Text
The Blacksite had never been a friendly place.
He knows that like the back of his hand.
Sebastian slithers through the dirty halls, he had memorized the layout yet it still felt endless. The halls stretched on and on, blood scattered and dripping off the walls with a sickening thud. The putrid smell of wounds and death clamped like metal.
It was as natural as the air he breathes.
It's not like they were expected to come back. The expendables would come in, trade away any loose assets they'd carry, and die before reaching the crystal. Sebastian has to survive, and so he loots their bodies, resells the items, and voila, the perfect business model.
It reminded him of being a kid on those Saturday afternoons, trading lemon juice for cents. Except the cents were files and the juice was scavenged goods.
What else could he do with the bodies anyway? He had already massacred the vending machines and any scraps he found in any food-related areas. He survives strictly off of Wall Dweller flesh and, if lucky enough, some long-expired snacks or creatures from the Let Vand Zone. He wasn't a cannibal.
Is he human enough to be one?
It's whatever, he either lets them rot so the anglers would eat them or feeds them to the non-roaming creatures like the puddles of Void Mass or takes it with him to the vast water areas, feeding it to Eyefestation.
Tired of carrying so much stuff around (seriously, these expendables bought his whole stash and used nothing), he makes use of his handyman nickname and plops the dead body into the nearest void locker, face scrunching up slightly at the disgusting, wet clicking noises. But he shakes his head, moving on.
Sebastian couldn't be bothered to think about it, his disgust almost always disappears after remembering his interactions with the anglers. The poor things are only violent out of hunger.
He's grown a certain fondness for the experiments, there was somehow a level of understanding. Sure, some of them, like the anglers, are animalistic and hard to understand. Eyefestation is the smartest one; he can actually have a conversation with her. He'd water the DiVine and was given the privilege of lying on the grass— maybe they were scared of him.
Some were unreachable, the Searchlights only made whale calls, but Sebastian was able to replicate them and slither around unbothered. NAVI was fun to annoy, especially with Painter...
God, he doesn't even know where to start. He remembers their first conversation and slowly gained the AI's trust. It was a comfortable dynamic, maybe it was purely objetive at first, but he's come to love his voice and art, it gave him something to look forward to.
Maybe he wasn't alone after all. Alone in being human, sure, but not in his humanity.
The blacksite has— or is—an entire ecosystem; Sebastian just so happened to be at the top. He's never done anything against the experiments; they never deserved it. Both in the water and out of it. His body is the product of human cruelty, it's not like half the 'things' here could register him as a human anymore. Those who did were smart enough to know he was safe to be around.
He liked tending to the... He doesn't know what to name them. "Assets" felt... Wrong, "animals" would be accurate but didn't encapsulate his feelings towards them, creatures made it all sound so strangely bizarre. Critters was accurate. Saying "the others" could mean so many things, it was making his head spin.
Feeding them, watering the plants, helping Painter, playing with the Squiddles, it all makes him feel... Useful. Sure, he was a jerk (ass is a better word) to the expendables, but they were prisoners and told to kill him on sight. And what do you even expect after 0 hours of sleep for a whole 49 hours? It wrecks your brain into what feels like mush. They knew what they signed up for. These creatures did not, they were captured and forced.
What else could he do? It was mind-numbing.
Searching for documents, scavenging, ignoring his own needs in favor of more searching. Searching for answers, for an exit.
For anything.
It was better than that stupid metal table.
...
No. Not now.
"Painter," Sebastian mumbled into his walkie-talkie, trying to get rid of the growing headache in between his temples, the back of his head, his fins, his—
Well, everything. Everything always hurt, it was never "Does it hurt?" but rather a "How much?" If it didn't impair his functioning, then it didn't matter.
Hearing the handheld transceiver click, Sebastian mutters into the speaker. "There's a group of expendables down a few doors, I think they'd love one of your gauntlets."
Sebastian knew the answer when he heard Painter chuckle. Recently, the only thing the little robot could do was mess with doors and draw; the expendables always turned off his turrets but Sebastian always came to turn it back on, and to decorate the place with landmines and traps.
He didn't move until he heard those blood-curdling screams, vividly imagining those faces surely melting into a radioactive goop all thanks to Eyefestion. Gauntlets were easy for the few who survived their first one but a death sentence to those easy to manipulate.
Sebastian had mastered the art of speed and agility, making his way into the large, glass room.
Staring into her eyes, he grins. "Keep at it, the food is yours." He swore Eyefest was smiling back at him, maybe it was the shark DNA that made them able to communicate in a way, he swore he could hear her voice.
She was one smart shark.
Actually a full-grown bull shark who gained consciousness and intelligence after all the nasty experiments.
There was a mechanical giggle. Painter was on the intercom screen, his scribbled face a cute, wide smile. "We got them!"
"Sure did, kid." He always had a fondness for working with the AI, he remembers the first time they met with a certain fondness, even if the circumstances were unfavorable. Same with Eyefest.
Life got... Better. With them. With all of them.
Struggling, but alive. Trapped, but the enclosure was bigger. Yeah, that's the word. Enclosure. They're all just freaks to be gawked at.
At least not on...
Shut up.
"I'm going to scavenge some things, you two have fun." Sebastian brought his hands together, smiling like an idiot. He slithered away on the smooth floors, a certain ease that belied everything.
The rest of the day was spent trading with the expendables and looking at all the new research. As usual, most of it was trash; some about the containment tubes, or desperate attempts at understanding Pandemonium's bowel movements— but occasionally there was a goodie like the chemicals in the serums they'd inject into the animals.
Maybe... They'd get out some day.
If they never do, at least it wasn't so miserable after all.