#sso sands

[paigeswiftsea]

. ݁₊ nothing's gonna hurt you baby. ݁₊

hii <3

i know its been awhile since i've posted my writing and i said i would post more writing since its summer... but i indeed got cursed and got that summer depression and everything is fucked up. but like its getting better i think so maybe ill be able to write more.. but do not hold me to that

also i cackled after writing jordonalds lmfaoo

if you need some catching up, heres the last part, and if you want to read the whole thing, you can here <3

wc: 6.0k (im feeding yall)

Sands stood at the far end of the corridor, his hands clasped neatly behind his back like he was taking a leisurely evening stroll—not cornering three fugitives at the heart of his empire. The dim red emergency lights carved harsh lines across his face, casting deep shadows beneath his eyes. And yet, he looked calm. Too calm.

“Going somewhere?” he asked coolly, his voice smooth and sharp as a scalpel. “Sightseeing, perhaps? I hope you didn’t think you could just walk out of here.”

Jay stepped forward without hesitation, squaring their shoulders. “We can,” they said flatly, “and we will.”

Sands’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes sparked with fury. “Brave words for a traitor.”

His gaze flicked between the three of you, cold and calculating. Then it landed on Sabine, and something in his expression twisted—disappointment, rage, maybe even hurt. “I expected more from you, General Malumi. My fiercest weapon. My shadow.”

Sabine met his eyes, blood on her lip, defiance in her posture. “I’m not your anything.”

Sands’s jaw clenched. “You think you can betray me, all of you, run off to play house with a Soul Rider and expect no consequences?”

Jay barked a humorless laugh. “You’re the only one playing god here, Sands. You tortured your own to keep control. You locked up your best soldier because she didn’t kneel. That’s not loyalty. That’s fear.”

Something cracked in Sands’s mask. His voice turned venomous. “Don’t lecture me, child. I raised you from the dirt. I let you grow, I gave you power, and this is how you repay me? By choosing weakness? By siding with them?”

Jay’s expression darkened like a storm rolling in off the sea.

For a moment, there was silence—heavy and choking—until they let out a short, sharp laugh. Not amused. Not afraid. Just cold.

“Let me?” Jay repeated, voice razor-sharp. “You didn’t let me be anything. I survived you.”

You could feel the temperature in the corridor drop, like the air itself had gone still in anticipation. Jay took another step forward, shoulders squared, eyes gleaming under the harsh red light.

“You think I care what you call me?” they spat. “I stopped giving a damn about your approval the second I realized you were nothing but a bitter, power-hungry coward hiding behind your machines and your monster.”

Sands’ face twisted. “I made you. I pulled you out of nothing—”

“No,” Jay snarled, cutting him off. “You used me. Just like you used Sabine. Just like you’re using all of them.”

Sands’s composure shattered. “I built all of this!” he shouted, gesturing wildly to the steel and shadow around you. “You ungrateful little monsters think you're free now? You think love makes you brave? No—it's obedience that brings order. Control. Without it, you're nothing.”

Your hand brushed Sabine’s—still unsteady on her feet—but her eyes were blazing, jaw set tight. The fire was coming back. She wasn’t going to fall apart again. Not now.

Sands took a step forward, lifting a hand like he meant to summon the full weight of the rig down on top of you. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re children playing in a war you can’t win.”

You stepped forward beside Jay, your voice steady and clear. “Then maybe it’s time someone burned the war down.”

Sabine coughed a laugh behind you, low and dangerous. “They came for me, Sands. They walked into your stronghold and ripped your best prisoner out of your precious cell block. That is winning.”

Something shifted in Sands’ expression. Not fear—he was too far gone for that—but something colder. Calculation. He wasn’t going to let you go without a price.

“You won’t make it off this rig,” he said flatly. “You’ll be hunted. Torn apart. You think I’m your enemy now?”

Sands straightened, the fury in his face going still—dangerously still.

“So be it,” he hissed. “Let’s see if love can save you from me.”

A beat passed.

Then all hell broke loose.

A warning siren shrieked overhead—an alarm triggered remotely from Sands’ concealed wrist control. You barely had time to react before red lights exploded into blinding strobes, and the metallic whine of doors slamming shut echoed down the corridor.

“Run,” Sabine hissed, dragging you backward. “Now!”

Jay threw a flash device against the floor—boom—smoke and sparks erupting around Sands as he shouted in fury.

You grabbed Sabine’s hand and bolted, Jay close behind, your footsteps hammering against the floor as klaxons wailed overhead and chaos consumed the hall.

The corridors blurred past in a whirlwind of metal and smoke and screaming alarms. The sirens wailed like banshees above you, the strobing red lights casting everything in a nightmarish pulse—Sabine’s pale, bruised face flashing beside you, Jay’s silhouette darting ahead, smoke curling behind you like ghosts.

The rig was waking up.

And it was hungry.

“Left!” Jay shouted, skidding to the side as an emergency door slammed shut behind them, nearly catching your boot. “Maintenance tunnels loop toward the dock. That’s our best shot!”

Sabine’s hand was slick with sweat in yours, her grip tight—desperate. You could feel her heart pounding through her fingers, but she kept up, kept moving, even though every breath sounded ragged. You knew she was still hurt. Still healing. But she ran like her life depended on it—because it did.

A panel burst open on the wall ahead of you, and two Dark Core guards spilled out, already shouting. Jay didn’t hesitate—they ducked low and slammed a knee into the first one’s gut, spinning to throw the second off balance. You were already moving past them, dragging Sabine as Jay followed close behind, panting.

“I hope you have another one of those smoke things,” you gasped.

Jay grinned despite the chaos, reaching into their jacket. “I’ve got two. And a surprise.”

You didn’t ask.

You burst into a lower corridor—a cramped service passage that reeked of rust and diesel and something sickly-sweet you couldn’t identify. The lights here flickered weakly, slower than above, like the rig hadn’t fully maintained this part in years. But it was quiet. For now.

Jay slammed the heavy door shut behind you and slid the lock into place, then collapsed back against the wall, catching their breath. “That’ll buy us thirty seconds, maybe.”

Sabine leaned against the opposite wall, gripping her side. Her breath hitched.

You moved to her instantly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she lied, blinking sweat from her lashes. “Just… don’t stop.”

You touched her arm gently, and she didn’t flinch. That was progress.

Jay pulled a folded piece of paper from their inner coat pocket. “Sabine, we found a wall of maps. The cell block you were in wasn’t on any of them. But we found notes—shipping routes, rig schematics. This place is hiding something big.”

Sabine nodded weakly. “Weapons. Energy storage. Experimental tech. Sands has been building up for something.”

Your stomach turned. “Something worse than Garnok?”

She hesitated. “Something more controlled. Human-made.”

Jay swore. “That’s why he wanted her locked up. She knew.”

A bang echoed down the hall. The first door, buckling.

You stood, adrenaline back in your veins. “Which way to the docks?”

Sabine pointed down the tunnel. “Two levels down. There’s a cargo elevator—connects to the water-level loading platform. We can bypass the main hangar that way.”

Jay reached for the second smoke bomb. “Let’s make a mess on the way out.”

The elevator groaned as it descended, cables whining with age and neglect. You stood shoulder to shoulder with Jay and Sabine, hearts pounding in sync. You could hear the footsteps above, echoing like drumbeats of doom.

Then the elevator slammed to a halt, the doors grinding open to reveal the lowest level of the rig.

It was darker here, lit only by dim emergency lights and the green glow of computer monitors scattered across various consoles. The water lapped just below the grated floor, the open edge of the cargo dock visible ahead. There—tied to one of the metal pylons—was a boat.

Your ride.

“Go,” Jay whispered.

You darted forward with Sabine, Jay just behind, when—

“STOP!”

Voices from behind. You didn’t look back. You ran.

A bullet ricocheted off the railing beside you. Sabine stumbled, nearly collapsing, but you caught her.

Jay turned and chucked the second smoke bomb down the hallway.

Bang!

More shouting, coughing.

You hit the dock and threw the rope loose. Sabine collapsed into the boat. You grabbed the edge of the hull and swung your leg over.

“Jay!” you screamed.

Jay ran, weaving through gunfire, and leapt—just barely landing on the boat’s edge. You grabbed them by the coat and yanked them in.

“Go!” Jay yelled at the helmsman, who had been waiting in the shadows.

He didn’t hesitate.

The engine roared to life, and the boat lurched forward, tearing away from the dock. The rig grew smaller behind you—ominous and seething in the early dawn light. Gunfire rang out in the distance, but you were already too far.

Wind hit your face like a slap, cold and wet and alive. You collapsed back onto the deck, gasping, Sabine half-curled at your side. Her eyes fluttered shut.

You reached for her hand and held it tightly.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. You had her.

You were safe—for now.

The group rode back in silence, the hum of the boat's motor a low, steady pulse beneath the crashing of the waves. Jay sat on the opposite end of the boat, arms crossed tight over their chest, eyes fixed on the distant shoreline that still hadn’t come into view. The helmsman didn’t speak, didn’t look back—just kept his hand steady on the wheel, guiding you through the open sea like it was second nature.

You sat in the middle, your body curved protectively around Sabine’s, her weight slumped against you, her breaths shallow but steady. Your arms stayed locked around her waist, your hand gripping hers as if she might vanish into smoke if you let go.

You couldn’t stop staring at her face.

The bruises beneath her eyes. The dried blood on her temple. The split in her lip. Every mark made your heart clench. You should’ve gotten to her sooner. You should’ve known. But you were here now, and she was here, and you weren’t letting her go again. Not ever.

Something had changed in you, cracked wide open the moment you knew she was hurt, caged, taken. You didn’t know if it was the spirit of Aideen—some ancient force rising up inside you to protect what was precious—or if it was something more human. More raw. A recklessness fueled by grief, fear, and fierce, staggering love.

But whatever it was, it got you there. It got her back.

And you knew—if anything ever tried to take her from you again, you’d burn down the world before you let it.

The boat rocked gently as it sped forward, the rhythmic sway almost lulling you, but you stayed sharp. You could feel Sabine stir slightly, her head shifting beneath your chin. She made a faint sound, not quite a word.

You pressed your lips to her forehead. “I’ve got you,” you whispered. “You’re safe.”

She didn’t answer, just exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening just a little in yours.

The ride felt longer than the trip out, somehow. Maybe it was the way the adrenaline had drained out of you, leaving only the dull ache of exhaustion and the weight of what you’d done. Maybe it was the way Sabine drifted in and out of consciousness—each time she went still, your heart skipped a beat until she stirred again.

At one point, Jay broke the silence, their voice soft and low. “She needs a doctor.”

“I know,” you murmured.

“She’ll fight them,” they added with a faint, tired smirk. “She always does.”

You smiled faintly, brushing hair back from Sabine’s face. “Then she’s definitely still herself.”

Jay didn’t respond. Just leaned back against the side of the boat, letting the wind push their hair into their face.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time the coast came into view. Faint golden light spilled over the waves, catching the tops of the cliffs and painting everything in soft, forgiving hues. It looked like peace. Like hope.

You held Sabine a little closer and whispered, “Almost home.”

The boat docked quietly at Cape West, the village still half-asleep under the morning light. The helmsman didn’t say a word—just gave a tired nod and lit another pipe as you helped Sabine up the ramp with Jay trailing behind, unusually quiet.

You saddled up quickly and rode straight for Jarlaheim, your pace urgent but not reckless—Sabine groaned anytime the horse jostled too roughly beneath you, and the sound made something twist painfully in your gut.

Jay rode ahead to clear the way, ignoring the looks from a stablehand or two who noticed your pale, bruised passenger slumped against you. No one said anything. They knew better.

By the time you reached Sabine’s apartment, the city had woken, but your world stayed quiet. Still, tense. You helped Sabine off the horse and half-carried her up the stairs, fumbling with her keys until the door finally creaked open.

The place was exactly as you remembered: cool, dim, smelling faintly of cloves and old leather. Katja wasn’t there—thank the stars—and you had a moment of stillness to guide Sabine to the couch and ease her down.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, breath catching. “I just need—”

“No,” you interrupted, already kneeling beside her. “Don’t say that. You’re not fine.”

She leaned back stubbornly, eyes fluttering. “Don’t fuss. It’s not that bad.”

“You were imprisoned and beaten, Sabine.”

Jay hovered by the door, arms crossed, tension in every line of their body. “You’re lucky she didn’t blow the whole rig up just trying to get to you.”

Sabine gave a weak smirk, but her face crumpled a little with pain.

You turned and started digging through her cabinets—grabbing gauze, antiseptic, a clean washcloth, whatever you could find. You brought it all over in a bundle and dropped to your knees again, already wetting the cloth and gently wiping at the dried blood on her temple.

She hissed, flinching.

“Stop moving,” you said softly.

“You shouldn’t—”

“I should. And I will.”

Sabine met your eyes then, and for once, she didn’t have a retort. Just silence. Just vulnerability. You saw how hard she was trying not to fall apart.

You cleaned her wounds in silence, trying to be gentle even when the bruises went deep and the cuts weren’t shallow. Sabine winced and gritted her teeth but didn’t push you away. You wrapped her wrists carefully, kissed her knuckles when she wasn’t looking.

When you were nearly finished, she finally broke the silence.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

You froze.

Then looked up, quietly. “Would you have, if it were me?”

Her jaw clenched. “That’s not the point.”

“Yes it is,” you whispered. “You think I could sleep, knowing you were locked away like that? Tortured? Alone?”

Sabine stared at the floor, eyes dark.

“You’re not alone,” you said. “Not anymore.”

Jay cleared their throat. “I’m gonna go get some real medical supplies. And maybe… coffee. Or something.”

You glanced up. “You okay?”

They gave you a thumbs up that was definitely not okay, then left.

The door clicked shut.

And the apartment was still.

Sabine leaned her head back against the couch, a shaky breath leaving her lips. “You’re stupid,” she muttered, eyes closed. “For coming after me. For risking everything.”

You climbed up onto the couch beside her, pulling her gently into your arms.

“Yeah,” you said. “But I love you.”

Sabine didn’t reply.

She didn’t have to.

Her hand found yours, fingers weaving together.

And she didn’t let go.

“…Hey…” you said softly, brushing your thumb over her wrist. “The tables have kinda turned, huh?”

She stirred a little at your voice, but didn’t look up.

“Remember when you were fixing my shoulder up on this couch during the equestrian festival?” you continued, voice light, almost teasing. “And we were pretending to hate each other?”

Sabine huffed faintly. “We were never pretending to hate each other.”

You smiled. “Well, I was pretending.”

There was a pause. You could almost feel her thinking.

“You were godawful at it,” she muttered, and for the first time since getting her out of that cell, you caught a glimpse of the real Sabine—dry, tired, but undeniably her.

You laughed under your breath, the sound quiet and fragile. “Yeah, well. You weren’t exactly subtle either. You had your hand on my bare skin for half an hour and kept muttering about how annoying I was.”

“I meant that,” she said, eyes still closed.

You turned your head and kissed the top of hers. “Sure you did.”

Another long silence passed, the kind that only happens when there’s nothing more that needs to be said for a moment. The kind that holds everything that’s already been said.

Sabine shifted just a little, her voice low. “That night… during the festival… I think I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That if I didn’t get out while I could… I was going to fall for you. Completely.” Her voice cracked a little, quiet enough that she might’ve hoped you wouldn’t hear it. “I told myself I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat.

“But then you looked at me like I was worth saving,” she whispered. “And I couldn’t stop.”

You tightened your arms around her. “Good.”

Sabine finally tilted her head just enough to glance up at you—eyes rimmed red, face drawn but open in a way it never had been before. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you said, brushing your fingers through her hair. “But I’m your idiot.”

She let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, and let herself fall the rest of the way into you.

The couch creaked softly beneath you both as she finally let herself rest, the safety of your arms more powerful than any lock or weapon.

And for the first time in a long time, slept without fear.

The morning stretched long and quiet around you, slowly fading into the afternoon.

You didn’t move.

Sabine slept, her head tucked beneath your chin, her body slack and heavy with exhaustion. The tension that always sat in her shoulders—the rigid alertness, the defensive coil of someone always ready to fight—was gone. Not completely, not forever. But enough that you could feel her breathing. Slow. Unsteady. Alive.

You stayed like that for a long time. Long enough that the light in the apartment changed, golden streaks crawling across the hardwood floor, catching dust motes in their glow. Long enough that your own exhaustion crept up your spine and made your body ache.

But you wouldn’t let yourself sleep.

Not yet.

Eventually, the door creaked open.

Jay stepped in, balancing a white paper bag and a box of medical supplies under one arm and a tray of coffee in the other. Their eyes landed on the two of you on the couch, and they froze—like they weren’t sure if they should say something or back out quietly.

You met their gaze.

They raised a brow, set everything down carefully on the counter, and walked over. “Is she still out?”

You nodded.

Jay crouched beside the couch, eyes flicking over Sabine’s face, and for a brief second, you saw something fragile cross their expression. Guilt, maybe. Or shame.

“She’s gonna hate me for dragging her into all this,” Jay said quietly, almost like they were talking to themself. “Even if she’d never say it.”

You reached out and touched Jay’s arm. “You didn’t drag her. Sands did. And you helped get her back.”

Jay shrugged, uncomfortable with praise. “Yeah. Well. It’s not over.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I know.”

Jay stood. “There’s bandages and antibiotics in the bag. Coffee too. I’ll take first watch. If you want to crash for a bit.”

You hesitated, torn. But your body was already agreeing for you.

“Only if you wake me if she needs anything,” you said.

Jay gave a small salute. “Obviously.”

You slipped off the couch carefully, replacing your body with a pillow as gently as you could. Sabine stirred, her brow creasing, but she didn’t wake. You brushed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

Then you curled up in the armchair nearby, your eyes already heavy.

Jay sat cross-legged on the floor, one eye on the door, one hand curled around a steaming cup of coffee.

Outside the window, the world kept turning. People fed horses, delivered packages, watered flowers. They didn’t know what had happened last night. What nearly got lost.

And inside, in a quiet apartment in Jarlaheim, three people who shouldn’t have been allies sat together in the aftermath—breathing, healing, waiting.

You quickly dozed off, the morning already behind you.

The quiet hum of the apartment, the faint smell of cloves and coffee, the steady presence of Sabine resting nearby—it all lulled you into sleep faster than you expected.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds hours later, golden, warm, and late across your face, pulling you groggily back into consciousness. You blinked hard, sitting up in the armchair and rubbing at your eyes. The leather creaked faintly under your weight as you stretched and let out a tired groan.

But as soon as your vision cleared, your eyes darted to the couch.

Empty.

Your heart seized. For a split second your mind filled with awful scenarios—she’d run, she’d been taken, she’d collapsed somewhere you couldn’t see—

But before you could even stand, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“She went to shower,” Jay’s calm voice cut in behind you, just a little dry.

You let out a long, shaky breath, sagging back into the chair, your hand over your chest. “Right,” you muttered, exhaling. “Shower. Yeah. Okay.”

Jay moved around you, their footsteps quiet, and settled on the coffee table directly across from you. They leaned forward slightly, elbows on their knees, studying you with a look that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t without sharp edges either.

“You’re a wreck,” they observed lightly.

You shot them a glare, but there was no real heat behind it.

Jay raised their hands in mock surrender, then laced their fingers together and leaned forward again. “Linda called me earlier,” they added, tone a little more serious now. “Asked how it all went, so I told her what happened… and how Sands is furious.”

Your stomach sank. “Of course he is,” you murmured, rubbing at your face.

Jay nodded. “He’s not going to let this go. You know that, right?”

You stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, fingers twisting together.

Jay sighed through their nose. “She’s safe for now, but…” They trailed off, glancing toward the bathroom door where the faint hiss of water still came through. “He’s going to come for her again. And he’s not gonna play nice about it next time. Or you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then we’ll be ready.”

Jay snorted faintly. “You say that like it’s that easy.”

You looked up then, your gaze steady despite the ache in your chest and the exhaustion weighing you down. “It’s not easy. But she’s worth it. Every time.”

Jay’s mouth curved upward slightly—not a smile, exactly, but something faintly approving. They leaned back on their hands and tilted their head. “Yeah,” they said softly. “That’s what scares him, you know. That kind of loyalty. He doesn’t understand it.”

Before you could respond, the bathroom door cracked open. Steam spilled out into the hallway, and Sabine appeared, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. She looked a little steadier on her feet than she had earlier—still pale, still bruised, but with some of her trademark sharpness back in her eyes.

Jay glanced at her, then at you, and stood. “I’m gonna… go check in with Linda again,” they muttered, making their way to the door. “And get food. Try not to traumatize the couch.”

You rolled your eyes at them, but Sabine huffed out what almost sounded like a laugh as Jay slipped out the door.

And then it was just the two of you again.

You crossed the room slowly, closing the space between you until you were standing right in front of her.

“Feeling better?” you asked quietly.

Sabine glanced down, then back up, her dark eyes meeting yours. She hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”

You reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

And for just a heartbeat, she let herself lean into your touch, her eyes closing.

“…We’ll see,” she murmured, but her hand came up to rest over yours, holding it there.

The quiet between you stretched, soft and heavy, but not unwelcome. Sabine’s fingers lingered against yours, her skin still damp and cool from the shower, her strength not quite what it used to be yet—but still enough to ground you both here.

You didn’t move your hand from her cheek.

And she didn’t let go.

She cracked one of those faint, tired smirks you loved so much, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not yet.

“You don’t believe me?” you teased softly, brushing your thumb across her knuckles.

Sabine opened her eyes, gaze steady, guarded in that way that only she could be. “…It’s not about believing you,” she murmured, her voice quiet but edged with something brittle. “It’s about knowing what people are willing to risk for me. And what happens to them when they do.”

Your chest ached at that, but you didn’t let it show. You only shook your head, just slightly, and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I’d risk everything for you,” you whispered. “And I’d do it again. Every damn time.”

She didn’t answer. But her fingers curled tighter around yours, and she didn’t pull away.

After a long moment, you straightened and finally—finally—sat beside her on the couch, still holding her hand, letting her lean against your shoulder if she wanted. She didn’t at first, of course. But after a few breaths, her head found its way there anyway, and you felt her weight settle against you.

“…You’re stubborn,” she muttered, almost fondly.

You smiled faintly. “Takes one to know one.”

That almost earned you a laugh. Almost.

You let the silence return, the soft light from the window catching in her damp hair and bruised cheekbones, the faint sound of distant hooves in the city streets below.

For now, you stayed like that. Because that’s all she needed.

And you’d give her all the time she needed.

Silently, you grabbed a brush from the table, shifting so you were sitting just behind her on the couch. Sabine didn’t even open her eyes—just let you tug her towel tighter around her shoulders and start pulling the brush through her long, damp hair.

She let out a soft sigh, leaning forward a little, and for a moment it was almost like she was melting into your touch. Her body sagged under your hands, her breath evening out.

You worked slowly, careful of the tangles at the ends. The silence wasn’t awkward—just quiet, comfortable. Every so often she’d tilt her head in the direction you guided it, her eyes still closed, her hands resting loosely in her lap.

When the worst of the tangles were gone, you set the brush down and began parting her hair, fingers deft as you wove it back into the braid she usually wore. You felt her breathing deepen again as you worked, each loop of hair pulled over the other making her look a little more like herself.

When you were halfway done, you smiled faintly and murmured, “Your hair smells nice.”

That made her snort faintly, one corner of her mouth twitching into a tired smile even though her eyes stayed closed.

“Yeah?” she rasped softly, her voice still hoarse from disuse.

“Mmhm,” you said simply, smoothing down a loose strand behind her ear. “Like… smoke and pine. Very intimidating.”

That earned you a quiet, breathy laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

You leaned a little closer to whisper near her ear, teasing: “And yet here you are, letting me braid your hair.”

Her lips curved into that faint, rare smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could tell—by the way she let her head tilt back slightly, by the way her fingers curled weakly around the edge of the towel, by the way her shoulders finally dropped—that a part of her wanted you to get used to it.

And you would.

Because no matter what came next, no matter what kind of storm Sands planned to throw your way… you weren’t letting her go.

Not now. Not ever.

You finished tying the braid off gently with an elastic and let your hands linger just a little longer, resting them on her shoulders. She didn’t move away.

After a quiet moment, she finally opened her eyes, dark and sharp but softer than you’d ever seen them before.

“…Thank you,” she said quietly.

And somehow, those two words meant more than anything else she’d said tonight.

Before you could answer, the apartment door rattled—Jay’s voice muffled through the wood:

“You two decent? I brought food. And also news. Neither is great.”

You glanced at Sabine, who was already rolling her eyes faintly, a familiar fire sparking back to life behind her tired gaze.

“…Let them in,” she murmured, straightening her shoulders a little.

You smiled softly, pressing a hand to hers before standing to unlock the door. Whatever Jay’s news was… you and Sabine would face it together.

Sabine threw the towel to the side of the couch, sitting back on the couch in her shorts and sports bra.

You opened the door, Jay’s slightly worried face softening into a crooked grin when they caught sight of you, though it didn’t quite reach their eyes. They waggled the greasy Jordonald’s bag at you as if that would magically erase the tension hanging in the air.

"Food for champions," they declared, stepping inside. “And by champions I mean two emotionally damaged women and their sleep-deprived friend.”

You cracked a smile despite the tension still simmering in your chest. “I was starting to worry you got caught.”

Jay raised a brow as they dropped the bag onto the coffee table. “Please. I’m slippery. Like an eel.”

Jay shot you a look as they plopped the bag down on the coffee table, then glanced over at Sabine—who was now sitting back on the couch, legs stretched out, dressed in just her shorts and a black sports bra. She was watching them with that same cool, half-lidded gaze, her braid draped over one shoulder.

You're also loud. And irritating.”

“Aw, she’s back,” Jay said brightly, looking at Sabine slouched on the couch in her usual half-dressed glory, her freshly braided hair gleaming in the morning light. “Still breathing. We love to see it.”

Sabine flipped them off without looking.

You closed the door behind Jay and turned back toward the living room as they rummaged through the bag, tossing out food containers. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I got… everything. Grease, sugar, caffeine, carbs—like four types of hash browns.”

You handed Sabine a warm paper-wrapped sandwich and she took it without comment, but her eyes lingered on Jay for a moment longer than necessary—something unreadable behind them.

Jay plopped into the armchair, already digging into a hash brown with exaggerated delight. “God, I earned this,” they muttered around a mouthful, crumpling the greasy wrapper and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Almost got tripped up by some weirdo in a suit on my way here. Must be Dark Core cleanup or something.”

You handed Sabine her coffee and she took it without a word, holding it with both hands like it was the only thing keeping her upright. She was still curled into the corner of the couch, her legs drawn slightly toward her chest, the faintest sheen of sweat still clinging to her skin despite the shower.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you unwrapped your own sandwich. She hadn’t said much since Jay arrived, but she was eating. Small bites at first, but steady.

Jay glanced between the two of you, shaking their head. “You two are so quiet it’s killing me. Don’t tell me I’m the only one with the social skills here.”

Sabine shot them a flat look. “You don’t have social skills. You have a running mouth.”

Jay grinned, unfazed. “And yet. Still here, saving your ass.”

That actually earned a faint huff of amusement from Sabine before she went back to sipping her coffee.

You took another bite of your sandwich and leaned back into the couch with a sigh. The food helped—warm, salty, comforting. It made the cold knot in your chest loosen just a little.

Once everyone had something in their hands, and Sabine had taken at least two solid bites, Jay finally exhaled and got serious.

“Okay. So. News.” They looked between the two of you. “Sands is pissed. Like, really pissed. Linda intercepted some chatter on one of his Dark Core frequencies. He’s calling in favors, moving assets. Whatever leash he was on before? It’s gone.”

You froze mid-bite. “What’s he planning?”

Jay shook their head. “Don’t know yet. But he mentioned ‘setting things right’ and something about Hollow woods. And he definitely wants Sabine back.” They glanced at her. “Alive. But barely.”

Sabine didn’t react outwardly, just chewed and swallowed like she hadn’t heard. But you saw the way her fingers tightened around the sandwich.

Jay leaned back on their hands, picking at the corner of the wrapper. “Goons are sniffing around. Asking questions. Trucks moving out of Pine Hill. It’s not subtle.” They looked at you directly then, and for once, their usual sarcastic edge was gone. “We bought you… maybe a day. Two at most. After that?”

Their shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug.

Jay reached over and snagged one of the untouched hash browns from the pile. “So, Sabine,” they started, leaning lazily back in the chair. “How’s it feel to be dramatic damsel of the year?”

Sabine gave them a sharp side-eye but didn’t bother with a verbal retort, just flicked her braid behind her shoulder and kept eating.

“She’s gonna kill you one day,” you warned Jay, and they snorted.

“Please. That’d mean she has to admit she cares what I think.”

You set your sandwich down, licking grease from your fingers, and finally spoke up, quiet but certain: “We can’t stay like this. Waiting for him to make the next move.”

That drew both their eyes to you.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You got something in mind?”

You met Sabine’s gaze then. Her eyes were sharp now, cutting through the haze of exhaustion, as if she already knew what you were going to say.

“We find out what he’s planning,” you said, voice firm. “And we stop it before he gets the chance.”

Sabine studied you, her lips parting slightly as though to argue—but she didn’t. Instead, she set her coffee down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Finally, she spoke, her tone quiet but decisive: “Then we hit Hollow woods before he does.”

Jay groaned dramatically, leaning back and covering their eyes with their arm. “Why do you two always have to drag me into suicidal plans at breakfast?”

You smirked faintly, picking up your coffee and leaning back. “Because you’re the only one dumb enough to come along.”

Jay dropped their arm just long enough to grin at you. “Fair point.”

The three of you sat there in silence for a moment longer, finishing your food as the sun climbed higher through the blinds. The quiet wasn’t awkward anymore—it was full of unspoken resolve.

When Sabine finally stood, adjusting her braid over her shoulder, her smirk was back, faint but real.

“Alright,” she murmured, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s ruin his day.”

And just like that, you all started gathering what you’d need for the next battle.

[krautvan]

What will happen to me ?

Tell me which love's killing the mercy ?

A dead man's swimming over the sea

[iskell]

Star stable shitposting because that's how i cope without quest

[piosplayhouse]

I haven't star stabled in so long I hope everyone still fw eldritch tentacle god yaoi

[dapplesndruids]

There is such a morbid tension now in the current state of the storyline.

Sands is gone - I hesitate to say 'dead', but at least gone for the time being. Darko has seemingly taken over DC operations and the whole of the continuing fight for Garnok's release.

We knew where Sands began and ended, for the most part. We knew what his morals were and that they were indeed existent, however fucked up in nature they were. Point is, he had some level of care for his ex-wife and family (and the new line that was updated a couple of years ago as we fly away with Justin on the starter "Now that HE (Garnok of Darko?) has seen you, you will never be safe on this island" just further leads me to believe that Sands was starting to 'wake up' from the trance Garnok had put him in). Sands also had a clear motive for his actions - doesn't make them right, but losing a loved one and spiraling is something anyone can acknowledge.

Darko on the other hand, is a complete unknown. Of course we know generally that he seemed much more extreme than Sands - he was the one who kidnapped Anne and threw her into 'hell', who attempted to murder Justin (in one of the most brutal ways possible), he was behind the Dark Horse serum experiments and the creation of the Nightmare Institute. Although this is more personal theory than anything, I really think Darko was either some sort of doctor or scientist before his stent with DC. Creating an institution for the study of what is essentially a mind and body-altering drug/steroid? There is so. much. potential. with his character.

All that being said, Darko is a much scarier villain than Sands could've ever been. Yes, I know he was a major creep in the older comics and SSL, but we have that motive there for him; we don't have one for Darko.

Darko is a wild card. We know he's willing to go to extreme lengths, but we don't know just how far he's willing to go, yet. I do hope they spend time working with and developing his character rather than just making him some goofy write off in the end. I love the game's concept of 'girl power' which was a fairly new concept in the video game sphere in the early 2000s, but unlike in SSL where the girl's had actual challenges that they overcame, SSO has started to go down the route of every other opposing character being completely incompetent so no real challenge is presented. We've seen the power the Soul Riders have - let them have actual challenges in the story.

[gladewood]

the quest was painfully short but the part with mr sands made me go :O

[asphalt-8-official]

Honestly the way he walks is hilarious

So much so i also made a gif out of it:

[zombiehorse78]

sands come back the daughter is missing you (repost i was eating couscous mayonnaise and it came back in my mind)

[sso-maev]

Mr Sands apparently put together a ”banquet” for Katjas arrival, explained to be lasagna. Absolutely delightful. Evil man makes his evil lasagna for him and his evil coworkers to celebrate the success of their evil plan

[willow-springpaw592]

I was re-reading the third Soul Riders book and I felt so much second-hand embarrassment reading this part again lmao. Poor Sabine.

[paigeswiftsea]

nothings gonna hurt you baby

writers block is a bitch, but im finally done with school so I can focus on more writing stuff which is fun so look out for the many wips i have

if you want to read the previous chapters you can find it here and the last part here

you dont really have to read heartbeat to understand this fic but they go together so...

wc: 3.4k

The morning air made the the tunnel slightly damp with dew. You inspected it throughly, making sure their wasn’t going to be a sudden influx of dark core goons or worse, sewage. You ran your hand aroun the edge of the grate that blocked it off, seeing the rusted nails that held it in place. Great. Rummaging through your backpack you grabbed a chisel and slammed it into one of the nails, the rust popping off almost immediately.

You hit the rest of the nails, and the backed up taking the grate off and putting it in the dirt. you grabbed the edge, looking inside. you pulled the map out of your pocket and looked at the path linda highlighted for you.

left, left, right, left, straight, right, up the ladder.

Should be easy. Right?

You pocketed the map and took one last look around you before fully going into the tunnel. It was dank and musty, the smell of rust and metal filling your nostrils. The was only a small trail of water beneath you as you walked. You pursed you lips together, focusing on saving sabine instead of the awful smell.

Your footsteps echoed in the tight space, the soft splash of water beneath your boots following close behind like a second pulse. The deeper you went, the narrower the tunnel felt—cold stone walls pressing in like the dark was breathing around you.

You muttered the directions under your breath as you went, counting each turn. “Left… left… right…” Your fingers brushed the wall at each corner, steadying yourself more for comfort than balance. It felt a little like moving through a lung, as if the place was alive and watching.

The last left turn opened into a larger chamber, a grated vent high above letting in a narrow shaft of golden light. You stopped for a second, letting your eyes adjust. The next path was straight, then right. Then the ladder.

You kept moving.

The tunnel sloped down before it climbed again, and the further you traveled, the more you felt it—her. It wasn’t rational, but something about the air shifted the closer you got. Like a ripple in your chest. Like static beneath your skin.

Sabine was near. You knew it.

You took the last right and nearly tripped as your foot hit the first rung of the ladder. You looked up—rusted metal that stretched toward a faint glow.

With a grunt, you sheathed your flashlight, hooked your fingers around the ladder, and started to climb.

Each creak of metal beneath your weight sounded like a shout in the silence. You reached the top, braced your shoulder against the grate, and pushed.

It didn’t budge.

You exhaled through gritted teeth and pushed again, harder. This time, it gave—a slow, loud screech—and then popped open just enough for you to shove it aside and pull yourself up into—

A dim hallway.

Clean. Tiled. Cold.

You pulled the grate back into place behind you as quietly as you could and ducked into the shadows. You could hear voices now—muffled through the walls. Machines whirring. A low, droning hum.

You were here.

Somewhere, beyond this corridor, behind steel doors and walls lined with control panels and surveillance screens—was Sabine.

And you weren’t leaving without her.

You pressed yourself against the wall, taking a slow breath as the cool, recycled air of the underground corridor filled your lungs. The tile beneath your boots gleamed faintly under the sterile, bluish lights, and you couldn’t help but notice the eerie silence between the distant mechanical noises. This place wasn’t just a bunker—it was a lab. A prison. A machine.

You ducked into an alcove as two Dark Core techs walked past, chattering quietly about some failed “containment protocol.” You waited until their voices faded before emerging again, gripping your map. The path you’d taken got you in—but where Sabine was being held wasn’t on it. That part? You had to feel out on your own.

The deeper you went, the more unsettling the halls became. Some parts of the tunnel still looked ancient—like the original construction had been done decades ago and then built over. Twisting corridors of old concrete blended into smooth black walls, embedded with glowing panels and piping that buzzed faintly. Something deeper, more secret, had been added recently.

And if you had to guess—it had everything to do with Sands.

You turned a corner and stopped.

There was a door up ahead, different from the others—more reinforced, and flanked by two dimly flickering security lights. A keypad blinked beside it, asking for a code. No guards. No cameras. Suspicious.

You crouched and opened your backpack, pulling out a small device Linda had rigged—a portable scanner and breaker. It was janky, rushed, and kind of held together with tape, but if it worked...

You pressed it to the keypad.

It buzzed, lights blinked erratically—and then, with a low beep, the door slid open.

You stepped inside slowly.

This room was larger than the others, lined with half-assembled machinery and strange crates stacked in organized chaos. Tubes of glowing blue liquid pulsed inside large glass cylinders. It was like walking into a lab in the middle of a transformation—half lab, half something else.

You didn’t even want to know what was in those crates.

But there—on the wall to your left—was a screen. It flickered, then shifted to security feeds.

You watched, your eyes scanning quickly.

Cells.

Rows of them. Stark, steel, locked. You flicked through until—

You froze.

There. Middle row, far left. Curled on a bench, shoulders stiff with defiance even as her head drooped.

Sabine.

A breath escaped you—half relief, half fury.

She was here. And she looked like hell.

You leaned forward, trying to find a number, a location, anything identifying the cell block. One corner read: Sector E-9.

You scribbled it into your map. Your hands were shaking, but you didn’t stop moving.

Whatever Sands was doing here—it involved far more than you’d realized. And Sabine… she was right in the center of it.

You squinted at the corner of the security footage again. Just below the feed showing Sabine’s cell, you spotted it—a small but unmistakable Dark Core insignia stamped in the lower right.

Hmph. Of course.

You stepped back, glancing around the room for anything—anything—that could tell you where she was being held. A terminal. A directory. A wall map. But there was nothing helpful. Just sealed crates, flickering screens, and half-finished tech that felt like it wasn’t meant to be seen.

Frustrated, you slipped back into the hallway, checking every door and alcove as quietly as you could until—

You found it.

A large room, sterile and humming with electrical power, the walls lined with massive schematics and printed floorplans, some laminated, others just tacked up carelessly. A massive map wall. Your heart skipped.

Oh my god.

You yanked out your phone and started snapping pictures in overlapping increments, determined to capture every detail. Corridor layouts, labels, access points, even the wiring systems. You paused only briefly to glance across the map, scanning for the sector code: E-9.

But it wasn’t there.

You frowned.

What?

There were plenty of marked zones—labs, dormitories, weapons storage—but not a single area labeled E-9. No cell blocks. No containment. It wasn’t even referenced.

Your brows furrowed. Why the hell would there be camera feeds showing a cell block if there wasn’t a corresponding location on the map?

Your heart sank.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t here.

You stared at the images still fresh in your mind—Sabine in that cramped steel cell, the subtle vibration in the walls behind her, the faint glint of open ocean light through a porthole near the ceiling. How had you missed it?

She wasn’t under Pine Hill.

She was on the Oil Rig.

Your stomach churned as you pocketed your phone. That changed everything. Getting into Pine Hill had been hard enough, but the Oil Rig? That was a whole different beast. Locked down, surrounded by freezing ocean, and crawling with Dark Core personnel. And whatever Sands was doing now—whatever he was planning—that place would be the epicenter.

You took a step back from the wall of maps, your hands clenched tight at your sides. This wasn’t just a snatch-and-grab anymore. This was a rescue mission at the heart of enemy territory.

And Sabine was waiting.

You bolted out of the room, retracing your path through the tunnel system. Every footstep echoed louder now, your breath hitching with adrenaline. You passed the rusted grate you’d entered through and hauled yourself up the ladder toward the woods behind Pine Hill.

The early morning sky was beginning to lighten, casting everything in a pale gray glow. You pulled your hoodie tighter, slipping into the brush to avoid being seen.

You had to regroup. Think smart. Plan fast.

Linda. Lisa. Maybe even Alex if she could keep from punching a wall about it.

You needed backup. You needed a way onto that rig. And most of all…

You needed to get to Sabine before Sands did something he couldn’t take back.

You grabbed your horse’s reins, foot already lifting into the stirrup—

“Ah, ah, ah. Stay right there. Hands up.”

Your blood ran cold.

You froze mid-motion, jaw clenched tight. Slowly, you raised your hands and turned around.

Two Dark Core goons stood about ten feet away, half-shadowed by the trees. One had a stun baton gripped tight in his gloved hand; the other, a compact communicator blinking red on his vest.

“Didn’t think we’d catch a little Soul Rider rat poking around our tunnels,” the first one sneered, stepping forward.

Your heart thudded in your chest. Not now. Not when you were this close.

“I was just taking a walk,” you said dryly, lowering your voice, trying to buy time. “Beautiful morning, don’t you think?”

“Save it,” the second one snapped. “You’re trespassing. And from the looks of it, snooping too.”

Your fingers twitched at your sides. You could fight. You could try to run. But your horse, startled by the tension, had already begun backing away, its reins loose in the brush.

Then—

A flash of movement.

From the right, a blur of color and motion tackled the first goon to the ground, the impact hard enough to knock the breath from him. You didn’t hesitate—you ducked and lunged at the second, grabbing the baton before it could swing down toward you.

He grunted, trying to wrestle you off, but adrenaline and fury surged through you. You jabbed the baton’s end into his gut—non-activated, but enough to send him staggering.

When he looked up, you punched him in the face.

Hard.

He dropped like a sack of bricks.

You turned, chest heaving, to see Jay dusting themselves off beside the first goon, who lay unconscious in the dirt.

“Miss me?” they smirked, winded but grinning.

“Jay?” you breathed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass, apparently.” They held out a hand. “You really shouldn’t go into Pine Hill alone. Or without warning anyone. Or without weapons.”

You took their hand, still stunned. “How did you even—?”

“Linda,” Jay said simply. “She had a dream.”

You blinked. “Of Sabine?”

“Yeah. And you. She woke me up at five in the morning. Five. So this better be worth it.”

You swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s not here. She’s on the Oil Rig.”

Jay’s face went cold. “Shit.”

You turned back toward your horse, urgency seizing you again.

“Then we don’t have time.”

Jay nodded. “Then let’s go get her.”

“ Why did you help me? Aren’t you still loyal to Sands and Garnok?” You asked as you both started walking.

Jay was quiet for a beat, brushing some dirt from their jacket as they followed you toward your horse. The forest around you was still, the tension between you louder than the birdsong.

Then they sighed, rolling their eyes as if annoyed they even had to say it out loud.

“Do I look loyal to Sands?” they said, jerking a thumb behind them toward the unconscious goons. “Please.”

You didn’t answer. Just stared.

Jay groaned. “Look. I didn’t come out here because I had some grand change of heart or because I suddenly believe in Aideen or whatever. I came because Linda was freaking out and—” they hesitated, glancing at you, “—because I knew you were going to do something stupid and get yourself killed.”

You raised a brow. “So it’s pity?”

Jay scoffed. “No. It’s—”

They hesitated again, jaw working like they were chewing glass.

“It’s Sabine,” they finally muttered. “Alright? She’s… complicated. But she’s one of us. And if Sands really found out about you two… if he’s actually hurting her—”

Their voice faltered. Not weakly—more like they were fighting to keep it from cracking.

You blinked. “You care about her.”

Jay rolled their eyes again, but it didn’t land the same way this time. “Don’t make it weird.”

A silence stretched between you for a moment before you both turned back to the trail. Your horse had settled a few paces away, ears flicking nervously.

You swung back into the saddle, Jay climbing onto theirs.

“You still didn’t answer the question,” you said as you urged your horse forward. “Are you loyal to him?”

Jay clicked their tongue, gaze hardening.

“I’m loyal to me,” they said. “And right now, helping you? Saving Sabine? That’s what I want.”

They spurred their horse ahead without waiting for your response.

You followed, heart pounding, the path to the oil rig burning in your mind.

“ We go to Goldenhills Valley.” You said, leaving no room for arguement, “ Theres a Helmsman in Cape West who can take us there.”

Jay looked over at you sharply, their horse already stepping into rhythm beside yours. “Goldenhills?” they repeated. “You sure about that? That place gives me the creeps. Too quiet. Too... foggy.”

You didn’t look at them. Your eyes were forward, fixed on the path ahead like it was the only thing holding you together. “We don’t have time to be creeped out.”

Jay sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, which in Jay language meant they were really taking this seriously.

“Helmsman in Cape West, huh?” they muttered, adjusting their grip on the reins. “Thought those guys were all myths.”

“ A Helmsman is just a boat steerer. He’s just a sailor Jay.”

“ Oh. Fair,”Jay said under their breath, then louder, “Fine. Goldenhills it is. But you realize once we’re on that rig, there’s no cavalry coming, right? No Soul Rider rescue squad. No starry prophecy. Just us and whatever guards Sands has stuffed in there.”

You nodded grimly. “I’m counting on it.”

The path to Goldenhills opened in front of you, the woods thickening and the light growing dimmer as the cliffs and fog of the valley crept in around the edges.

Jay pulled their scarf up over their nose. “We get to Cape West, find your helmsman, and pray he doesn’t sell us out.”

You didn’t respond. You were already running through everything in your head—Sabine’s voice, her dream, the coldness of the cell, the way her hand lingered on yours before she left.

You turned your horse toward the wooded path that led north, sun barely beginning to rise above the trees. The mist along the forest floor stirred with each hoofbeat. You tried not to think about Sabine’s face in that cell—how pale she looked. How quiet.

You had to get to her in time.

Jay rode silently beside you for a while before speaking again.

“You know,” they said, tone unusually low, “when this is over, if we make it out—she’s gonna owe you her life.”

You didn’t look at them. Just stared straight ahead.

You rode hard the rest of the way, through the high pass where fog clung thick to the trees and down the winding descent into Cape West Fishing Village. The harbor was quiet, still caught in the hush of early morning. A few fishers tended their nets in silence, barely glancing up as you dismounted and led your horse toward the end of the dock. There, rocking gently in the tide, was a weather-beaten ship that looked like it had seen better decades.

A man in a battered oilskin coat sat on an overturned crate, puffing calmly on a pipe. His eyes were half-lidded, like nothing in the world could surprise him anymore.

“You the helmsman?” you asked, stepping closer.

He looked up slowly, blowing smoke through his nose like a dragon waking from a nap. “Depends. You the favor Linda told me about?”

You nodded.

The man stood with a groan, flicking his pipe into the sea. “Then get on. Tide’s shifting fast. You want the oil rig, I’ll take you.”

Jay eyed the ship like it might fall apart just from being looked at too hard. “This thing’s seaworthy?”

The helmsman grinned, revealing teeth like broken piano keys. “She floats. That’s good enough.”

The deck groaned beneath your weight as you stepped aboard, sea spray catching on your skin. As the boat pushed off from the dock, the wind picked up, tousling your hair and scattering the mist around you like ghostly curtains. Behind you, the land shrank. Ahead, hidden in a blanket of fog and steel gray clouds, the oil rig loomed like a fortress torn from a nightmare.

You gripped the railing tighter. Sabine was in there somewhere. And now it was up to you and Jay to find her—assuming you could get through the battalion of Dark Core goons without getting shot, thrown overboard, or worse.

Jay leaned beside you, arms folded. “You have any ideas?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Jay hesitated, then gave a lopsided grin. “I have one. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What does that mean—”

Before you could finish, Jay suddenly yanked you by the collar, dragging you toward the boarding ramp as the boat clunked against the rig’s metal dock.

“What the hell—?!” you hissed, stumbling.

Jay leaned close, muttering fast. “Play along. Trust me.”

Then, with a wicked smirk, they grabbed a fistful of your hair and hauled you up the ramp.

“This one was snooping around the lower docks,” Jay announced to the guards waiting at the top. Their voice took on a sneer you hadn’t heard before—sarcastic, cruel. “Figured I’d bring her in for a little one-on-one interrogation. Cell Block 1.”

One of the guards snorted and stepped closer, leering. “Just keep her away from E-9. That’s where he is keeping you-know-who. Last thing we need is this one starting trouble.”

He laughed—something wet and guttural that made your stomach turn. “You let me know where you stash her, and maybe I’ll stop by later.”

Jay didn’t break character, but their eyes darkened. They raised a lazy hand and formed a finger gun, cocking it at the guy’s head with mockery in every movement. “Try that and you’ll be in the water before your brain hits the floor.”

The guard scoffed, but didn’t push further. Jay yanked you again, dragging you deeper into the bowels of the rig. The air grew colder and more metallic with every step—thick with oil, salt, and the faint hum of unseen machinery.

“Do you really have to drag me the whole way?” you muttered under your breath once you were out of earshot.

Jay let go of your hair with a sharp breath and rolled their eyes. “You’re welcome for the free ride.”

You rubbed your scalp, glaring. “You could’ve at least faked it less convincingly.”

“You asked for a plan. That was a damn good one.”

“You enjoyed it.”

Jay smirked. “A little.”

You shook your head, trying not to smile.

Still, the further down you went, the more serious it got. You passed signs that marked different wings—engineering, storage, barracks, observation—until finally the rusted metal wall bore the words:

CELL BLOCK – SECTOR ONE.

Jay stopped just outside the door, their expression shifting—sharp now, focused. “All right,” they murmured. “We’ve gotta figure out how to get into E-9 without being seen. Whatever they’re keeping Sabine in… it’s probably locked up tight.”

You nodded. “Let’s find her. Before Sands does something we can’t undo.”

Jay gripped the door handle.

“Ready?”

You didn’t hesitate.

“Always.”

" Where are you three going?"

You froze.

The hallway fell deathly still, the red emergency lights casting long, ominous shadows across the walls. That voice—slow, sharp, soaked in cruelty—slithered across your skin like a cold wind. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

[krautvan]

Must be the reason why I′m king of my castle

[avaitor]

Chat it's so over

need people to write mr. sands from star stable x reader smut bc there's none out there and I want him carnally bc a certain artist has been drawing him a little too well

his hairline is demolished I need him so bad

[calamitydawning]

they are the same to me

[piosplayhouse]

They call him 007. 0 relevance 0 rigging 7 baddies

[sso-brainrot]

SSO| Mr. Sands: Villian or Heartbroken

New Lore video from the Druidic Archives!!

" Is Mr. Sands the heartless villain in the Star Stable Universe, or is there more to him? While he constantly seems to want to take over Jorvik, is there a reason behind it, and is that reason justified? I hope to help explore those questions and shed light on some of the answers, though for some, you will have to decide for yourself. "