The thrall of the ocean hummed and breathed with a droning sense of life as W.M. made their way through its equal-parts comforting-and-horrible depths, fresh corpse clamped firmly in their beak and jaws — all teeth — as they swam, fins snaking gracefully behind them.

Things were never quiet, down here. Nor boring. In one way or another there was always something, usually to deal with — expendables, wayward Urbanshade employees, confrontations between any number of anomalies… or this, now; once foraging, not the hunt, in the wake of the depletion of what resources they still had at least in terms of rations. W.M. had taken to dealing with it… well, pretty well, all things considered. Once one got over the initial mental hurdle cannibalism wasn’t all that inconvenient or even that difficult — so long as you didn’t think about it too hard, of course. Animals eat meat. Others, clinging onto old norms, however… maybe not so well. But it was worth another shot, at least, especially now, and to continue their effort was the least penance they could do.

A familiar soft-yellow light from the window of the cafeteria bleeding out into the dark waters told them they had indeed come to the right place, and toward it they dived, making a satisfied clicking noise in their throat as they did so. W.M., out of the corner of their eye, took a glance through the massive pane of glass as they passed, aiming for the large hole in the floor underneath through which they’d be making their entrance, and saw none other than Sebastian — just as they’d expected.

The weight of all the world they felt bearing down on them as they pulled themselves from the water, and through to the surface, shaking themselves off like a gargantuan dog before looking around the room, which was itself in a horrible mess. Strewn about were tables overturned, shattered glass across the floor, old trails of blood smeared on light grey flooring. The dim blue-white lights were clinical and uninviting, even hostile. Had they always looked this way? Sebastian, meanwhile, had his back to them, and hadn’t so much as acknowledged them since they’d come in; he was currently busy sifting through what was left of the cupboards with a muzzled determination: restrained, but still plenty evident. W.M. felt the palpable sting of anxiety in their chest, but swallowed their apprehension anyway as they began to step forward. They didn’t get far.

“Go away.” Sebastian growled, suddenly. “If you know what’s good for you. And I’m not feeding you.”

W.M. snorted, though it was half-hearted.

“I don’t need your help, either.”

…They dropped the corpse on the ground as they dipped their head towards the floor, watching as it collapsed in an ungainly heap. “You won’t find anything here,” they said. “There is nothing left.”

He hissed, but still didn’t look. “Nonsense,” came the reply. “There has to be something.”

“We’ve scoured everything. It’s been months — there are many of us. Many of them. I promise, I’ve looked, Seb, I—”

“Don’t call me that!” With that he whipped about to face them like a wild animal, tail slamming into a wayward chair, drawing his gun in one practiced motion and pointing it straight at their chest with eyes wide and angry — all three, piercing blue, focused on them with a laser-sight. “You lost that right,” he snarled, “—when you lied to me.”

“I—”

“You know you did! You — I dare you to stand there and tell me you didn’t lie right to my fucking face, didn’t neglect to tell me shit when you knew better. You keep following me around like nothing’s wrong, like nothing’s happened between you and I — you can’t possibly be that stupid. You’re no different from the rest of them, not inside. I did you one last favour letting you out because I still, for some reason, cared about you. That’s it. Stop making me regret it.”

“…I know I did. That’s all I was going to say. I know.”

He narrowed his eyes, adjusting his grip on his gun. “Well. At least you admit it.”

W.M.’s eyes were sad. “…You know that won’t do anything, right? Both of us do. It won’t change anything. No matter how much I wish it would — for both our sakes.”

For a few more painfully long moments he kept the gun leveled at their heart, but they could tell now that his own wasn’t in it anymore, and finally, with a defeated grunt, he emphatically holstered the thing in his jacket. He crossed his arms. “How lucky.”

They sighed, shifting their weight back and forth sheepishly on their feet. “And— you know, I wanted to apologize. I know it doesn’t make up for what I did — or didn’t — but I just, I wanted to let you know that anyway. I know I fucked up. A lot. I’m paying for it.”

He said nothing, but he seemed slightly more satisfied… and a little triumphant.

“…I brought you this,” they offered, bending their head down to push the corpse towards him — it was still fresh, all things considered, and now even cleaner than when it had been killed.

“I can’t eat that,” he said, grimacing. “I told you. Maybe you can, but…”

“You can,” they replied. “You just don’t want to.”

“Nobody sane wants to.”

“Sure. And I get it, I really do. But we don’t have a choice, do we?”

He frowned.

“Look at you,” they said. “You’re hungry. You need to eat.”

“There has to be something.”

“Not down here.” They nudged the body closer and then straightened back up to look him in the eyes. “Not in a hell like this.”

Sebastian stared down at the broken body — a pile of meat.

“Please,” W.M. urged. “Eat. If not, then… take it, at least. Think about it. You’re wasting good energy looking for anything else.”

He hesitated, transfixed by the sight; but he did cave, finally, with a shrug of his shoulders and a curt nod. “…Fine,” he sighed. “I can… give it a shot. I guess.” Despite his words, he still seemed apprehensive. W.M. didn’t blame him. “If this is really it.”

“No more lying,” W.M. replied. They stepped back. Even still, I hope you can forgive me.

“…Do you mind, though?” he said, after a moment.

“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll. Go,” came the response, as they began to turn away, though they hesitated in leaving. “…I. I really am sorry, by the way. Even if it doesn’t change anything. I shouldn’t have kept it from you — I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I thought it didn’t matter, maybe I thought you knew.” They stole a quick glance back at him, who stared back, before they sighed again and stared down at their talons. “But I did mean what I said then. And I still mean it now. I want us to get out of here — I want you to get out of here. And if you need my help then by all means I’m willing to give it and all you need to do is call on me. I won’t fail this time.”

…No reply. That was fine; what was said was said, and could not be unsaid.

They made to leave, finally. “And if it helps...” they added, wading into the shallows — “God isn’t watching.”

And they were gone.