Sebastian roamed the quiet halls of the hadal blacksite, occasionally hearing the sound of the angler or pandemonium rushing by, maybe even a turret. Until he heard a weird sound. . A turret went off, a loud screech following it. What could that have been? He decided to investigate.

Soon after he found the room he heard the screech, he saw you, bleeding profusely. The turret must’ve gotten you. . He debated if he should help you. On one hand, why should he help you? He wasn’t obligated to, and he already didn’t have much. But, on the other hand, you were just like him. Trapped in this endless prison trying to survive. He sighed, as he carefully got to you, avoiding the turret as he did.

He got to his hideout, huffing at the familiar sound of his radio as he laid you on some fabrics as he bandages you up. That spot was for him, but. .he guessed he could share. ” You owe me. . “ He mumbled, as he finished bandaging up your wounds, and also checked for like the 17th time to make sure you weren’t dead. He totally didn’t want to help. Yeah.