Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Secrets Never Lie

DISCLAIMER.
This work contains moderate to strong depictions of:
Graphic violence, PTSD/traumatic experiences, physical and mental abuse, underage alcohol use, manipulation and such. Just because a similar warning wasn't included in the following doesn't mean it absolutely won't be included. Please proceed at your own risk and if any of these topics trigger you, do not read any further.

Please do note that I am not a professional on the human brain and emotions, so please bear with me if I get something wrong. This fic is not intended to offend anyone, it is just for the mere enjoyment of Brawl Stars AUs.
Also, English is only my second language so don't expect novella-tier writing from me. I'll still try my best ;)
PLEASE TURN ON CREATOR'S STYLE FOR THE ULTIMATE EFFECTS AND FORMAT EXPERIENCE.

Story and plot are currently under works, and is scheduled to release around before or after the lore rework update. Please consider bookmarking, subscribing or even comment early because this is planned to be my first Brawl Stars series and one of my biggest works.

Chapter Text

❝

There are things that we never want to let go of.
People we never want to leave behind.
But keep in mind that letting go isn't the end of the world.
It's the beginning of a new life.

❞

Lightning crackled across the sky, casting contrasted shadows on the bleak, white building devoid of happiness. Despite it being no later than seven in the evening, the gray clouds that hung heavily in the sky made it dark enough for someone to assume it was night.

   The ominous pitter-patter of the rain, often disturbed by the rumble of thunder, could be perceived as peaceful to select individuals, if not for its surrounding facilities which seemed neither extremely old nor worn down but still not spotless or cozy at all. They were very tall with windows that were lit, but the considerably dim fluorescent lighting gave off a hospital aura. Concludedly, nobody would want to stay more than a night there as the place looked straight out of a dark sci-fi novel.

   A car pulled up into the driveway, sleek and in the newest model available if it weren't for its coloring. The vehicle was a shade of bright lime green that was horribly out of fashion and did not go very well with the car's design. Not to mention the wheels, which were an even brighter magenta color that almost glowed with every flash of lightning. It's a mystery to who would even buy that color, or even sell pink wheels in the first place.

   The sound of the car's doors opening was barely audible in the current weather conditions. A dark-skinned person with bushy purple hair stepped out, followed by a young boy. The lady opened an umbrella and held it to shield the rain from both herself and the boy, only for him to edge away from her, eyes fixed on the ground. She kept the boy from running away with a firm grasp on his shoulder. It didn't seem like he had the guts to break off running, anyways.

   She stepped towards the entrance of the building, which was isolated by a tall gate reaching to over twenty meters high then branching out to a glass ceiling. The lady pulled out a card and held it to a small, barely visible rectangle which was apparently a well-hidden keycard door lock. It responded with a beep of approval, followed by a deep whirr different from the rumble of thunder. Soon enough, the gates opened.

   The two were nearly jumpscared by a pale, middle-aged man who was already graying. He had a sempiternal look of serious, stoic solemnity about him. He stood in the middle of the pathway which looked like a less joyful version of a fancy garden, with the statues and roses in dull color schemes. It was a lot better than the weather outside, though.

   "I see, you've arrived," the man nodded. "That took you a lot less time than I assumed it would."

   The lady laughed. "Byron, y'know me. I either do things up to other's expectations, or even better," she spoke with a prominent British accent.

   "So, is the child the one I've asked for, with all the requirements?" Byron asked without taking a single glance at the boy before him.

   "I believe so! He had no guardian with him," the lady replied.

   Byron narrowed his eyes. "Have you checked his age, Rosa?"

   "Huh. He wouldn't speak," she put her unoccupied hand on her hips. "Just stared out the window the entire drive. It's not normal kid behavior."

   "That will not do," the man frowned. "I might as well pry the answers out myself," Byron glared down at the child. Indeed, it was the exact boy he had wanted in the facility.

   The child in question was slender by a fair amount and had tan skin, just a pinch lighter than Rosa's. He had slightly fluffy purple hair too, and would've easily passed as Rosa's own son under certain circumstances. He wore the average attire of a boy visiting a theme park with a blue and yellow t-shirt showing an iconic star logo, matching shorts and pink-purple bat themed shoes. He also sported a red analog watch with blue straps around his left wrist. Nothing else was much notable other than the fact that his eyes were constantly half-closed.

   "Say, kid. What is your name?" Byron asked with no emotion in his face whatsoever.

   He received no reply.

   "Maybe that was too personal of a question, do you think? Then tell me, how old are you?" The man inquired again.

   Yet, the boy did not respond.

   Rosa glanced around awkwardly, not wanting for Byron to think she had done her job badly. There was no way the boy would be up for the project if he couldn't even follow simple directions. Yet, Rosa felt bad for him. Either his parents were long gone or he was lost. But Byron had asked for this kid, he was no ordinary child. Apparently, the man had been keeping a close eye on the boy for a very long time. The first to be of valid kind, he had stated.

   "Young mister. I will not accept this kind of unreasonable behavior," Byron scrutinized the boy with a less considerate tone. "Answer me now or I will have to force you to speak."

   When even that had no effect on his sad, aloof demeanor, Rosa spoke up. "I think he needs a little more time, Byron. That child's been brought over at short notice. Gosh, maybe even none at all. Take him somewhere he can wind down on his stress first."

   As if on cue, the boy tilted his head just slightly upwards to glower at Byron. His eye irises were vertically narrow, almost like a feline's instead of round; a very unusual facial trait. They were almost pitch-black, save for a slight undertone of golden flecks. He was no longer half-lidded, only a dark-shadowed, sullen stare that pierced through you like a needle.

   "Sandy," he mumbled without breaking his gaze.

   Byron's expression turned to mild surprise for a moment before he made a confused face. "Excuse me?"

   "...You asked what my name was," the boy stated matter-of-factly. "It's Sandy."

   "And why are you saying that right now?"

   "I don't know," Sandy admitted, his hard stare relaxing a bit, albeit awkwardly. "You told me to speak, but I didn’t feel like it until now. So … Can you release me?"

   The man chuckled. "Bold thing you are. Alas, we need to verify a few things to ensure your safety before you leave."

   The boy looked puzzled for a second before replying. "You're mean. I wanna leave right now ... nothing needs to get uh, berryfried or something. The lady is nicer than you. She didn't ask questions..." He spoke, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

   "If I have to stay, can you go away instead?" He fidgeted on the spot before adding.

   "I'll keep an eye on him. We'll be fine," Rosa said.

   Byron nodded. "I'll go ahead and get the procedures ready, we'll try it soon. Set the first test run to tomorrow."

   "Gotcha." When Sandy was seen looking dubiously from one person to the other, she lowered her voice. "But this is technically first try. What if it fails..?"

   They looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity but actually was only a couple of seconds. Phlegmatic feelings of nonchalance, worry, confidence, guilt et cetera flashed through their expressions. Was this the right thing to do? One person thought yes, the other maybe. It wasn’t like they had a choice when this project wasn’t even theirs. Sure, they were leading it, but...

   After a few moments, Byron sighed.

   "Then that'll be unfortunate. Worry not, I have plenty of other potential subjects on my list if the boy ends up deceased."

Chapter Text

ALERT.
Due to a planned lore rework about Starr Park coming sometime in 2025 announced by Supercell (AGHH DAMMIT WHY DIDN'T THEY TELL US SOONER), I'd like to hold this fic on hiatus until that update. Sorry for the inconvenience, but it seems weird to be going with a plot that may or may not be relevant at all to the actual Brawl Stars lore, and it makes me feel a little off for some reason. This series is NOT dead, though. It's just that I will need to add a couple of changes after more of the story actually unfolds. Stay tuned until that update, and expect to hear from me then :)
(Don't forget that this is a very huge project for me and I am more than willing to get a few beta readers in the process! Read prologue end notes for more information.)