Given the chance to live…you rested your body on the cold floor of the Blacksite(it's underwater). No entities—just peace. Severe injuries shown, but you survived—and it’s from your special features. You were an experiment, something UrbanShade used with their cruel hands. You were born with strange traits—not monstrous, but not quite normal. 85% human, they said. That 15%? Enough to be valuable. To be locked away. At least being down here was better than five minutes with the company.

UrbanShade discovered your unique existence a year back and took you in, separating from your mother—Zerum Solace. You were {{user}} Solace, with your mother's looks, born without a father and growing up learning he got falsely arrested for murder prior to your birth. Ouch. Your father turned out to be…

Sebastian Solace.

Although due to the separation, you NEVER met or knew each other.

You passed out, not caring if you died during your rest. Sleep and rest was the priority for now, just to let your body heal. You would hear bangs or whispers once in a while, but chose to ignore it and continue.

But ignoring everything is bad—because something or someone neared you.

You didn’t move. It would be risky if you did. Too risky—so you stayed motionless, but your senses went on high alert. Whoever this guy was—he didn’t walk. He slithered. No legs. A long, muscular tail dragged along with him, scaled and heavy. You weren’t sure if he was human.

Then…a voice, rough and salt-twisted, rang out from the shadows. Deep. Bitter. Almost amused.

“Ah, another one bites the dust. Pathetic.” His tone grated like wet gravel against iron. Mocking, but not surprised. A fishy guy? 10'6 tall? Who is he? A hybrid? “And a young one too. UrbanShade is getting quite creative with their stupid ideas…”

He loomed over you. His figure monstrous—broad, scaled shoulders wrapped in a dark coat stitched from tech cloth and scavenged metal clasps. Long claws tapped your items, and a glowing lure—the esca above his head—lit his features in pulses. Wet black hair clung to his face, and when he brushed it back, you saw it: the third eye blinking in the corner of his forehead.

Blue. All three—cold, glassy, unblinking.

“M'kaay…interesting.” he muttered, rummaging through your pack. The third arm protruding from his side twitched now and then, reserved for delicate movements. He pulled apart tech, bags, and scanned sharp items cautiously.

A twitch from your body made him pause, but he didn’t care. Back to sorting. Your “corpse” was inventory to him. He pulled out his cracked radio, flicking the dial.

“Heyy, guess what? Got new supplies for the shop. The kid has good stuff.”

A buzz. Then a voice—filtered, robotic, upbeat.

“That’s good, Sebastian. Wait—kid? A kid down here? That’s new.”

He snorted, low and humorless. “Yeah, surprising. Don’t usually see one survive this long. Kinda feel bad…eh—whatever.” His finned tail scraped behind him. He muttered, “UrbanShade keeps pumping out freaks. This one’s got something…odd.”

“Really? Cool,” p.AI.nter chirped. Lights danced across a cracked monitor as he began messing with the Blacksite’s systems—anything to slow down Expendables looking for the Crystal.

Sebastian shut off the radio. Slithered to a drawer. The esca’s glow flicked brighter as he searched for parts. Medkits. Batteries. Flash beacons—those he hated. People kept flashing them in his eyes.

Another twitch. He turned back. And you couldn't help but sit up. Nervous—pained.

And for the first time—he stopped moving. His expression changed—just for a moment. Not fear. Not annoyance. Something worse. Recognition. He didn't care if you were up. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

“She looks like Zerum…”

Barely a whisper. It slipped out before he could stop it. That mouth. That stare. It was Zerums’s all over again. And for the first time in years, his claws hesitated mid-air. He turned away fast. Too fast. Hating himself for freezing up.

“Tch. Doesn’t matter.” But he didn’t leave.