Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cuttlefish was getting far too old for this business. His graying tentacles, sagging shoulders and bent back posture all served as a painful reminder that it was a young cephalos game. Cuttlefish almost missed the time of the Great Turf War.

Ah, what a time it was. When his aim was true and his shoulders strong. Life was much simpler back then, an Octarian army to be splatted ,not complicated stuff like   unity and equality. In his youth, he would’ve been disgusted by the of coexisting with Octarians, let alone joining forces with them.

And now he and the whole of Inkopolis owed their lives to a random Octoling he had found unconscious in a subway station. An Octoling that he had dumped on the doorstep of the least capable Inkling for the job.

His time in the Deepsea Metro really had changed him, perhaps for the better. He was vegan now, he now held the ideas of acceptance and anti-prejudice in his head and he had become a pretty adept rapper able to spit fire like a frog playing a lyre. OK maybe his rapping needed work.

Cod, when had the world got so strange? Become so alien?

Perhaps the Calamari Inkantation hadn’t only restarted the brainwashed Octarians heart, it had also opened the hearts of inklings...That was the only way they would come anywhere close to sharing a city with them. He was surprised they hadn’t all been dumped on a ride to Oyster City already. Inklings were a really possessive species. Or was that the Octolings? Sometimes he got the two confused. Goes to show how similar they really are. They both looked practically identical besides from a couple of subtle differences in their Tenta-locks. If the Octolings cared about fashion even a little bit, the Inklings might see that as something to connect over. Maybe unity had a chance after all. Cod knew Inkopolis really use the diversity, there was only so many times you could see Inklings wearing replicas of his sea captain hat, the Cap of Legend that it started to get really stale. That hat had history, it was associated with some of his greatest adventure and endeavors. Cod, he really loved that hat, you kno- anyway getting back to the topic at hand, the two species better learn to work together because Cuttlefish didn’t survive a harrowing Metro full of trials (Sure he wasn’t the one who actually did the trials but his point still stood) and learn to rap only for it to be all for nought. That would really annoy him. Almost as much as any silly Inkling pop star duo who dared to compete against his grandkids or having to keep track of all the different code names for the different agents he’d employed over the years.

Swimming in the pipes deep under Inkopolis at high speed really makes you think on the good, the bad and the ugly things in life you know? Cuttlefish still didn’t quite understand how the drain in Inkopolis Square took people to Octo Canyon, it seemed to warp time and space. Geographically it didn’t make much sense at all but Cuttlefish just tried not to think about it. Like other confusing things like say… does God exist or what the meaning of life was, you’d think yourself in circles and all that would result in would you feeling woozy and maybe needing to sit down for a bit. Just take a breath and enjoy all the good things in life, it’s much better for you.

He had no idea how his thought process had snowballed into that but maybe he should change the subject of his train of thought. Hmmm… how about how he loved to fly? Cuttlefish used to love the weightless feeling of drifting through the spaces between manholes, hearing the sounds of his destination echoing down, awaiting his arrival. Now it felt as natural and as boring as walking. He felt saddened by that, once more wishing for the days of his youth. The Cap’n of the New Squidbeak Splatoon emerged from the manhole into the refreshing air of Tentakeel Outpost in the Octo Canyon, launching into the air and preparing for a graceful landing...only to land on his face.

Further reason for retirement, he though wistfully.

What a sight for sore eyes . The life-like detail of the tentacle-shaped cliff formations holding the outpost aloft and stretching up towards the heavens, the decorative flags hanging from the skylines and of course, the lonesome shack surveying it all. Beautiful.

He peered over the abyss that was Octo Canyon. The canyon was an enormous mouth threatening to devour him at the slightest misstep. Telling him he would plummet down to be swallowed whole if he wasn’t careful. That all it took was one fatal clumsy mistake and he would topple, never to be heard of again. It seemed to call to him, promising him a quick and merciful death if he just stepped of the outpost. He shook himself out of it, plopping himself down and sinking down into the coach.

The TV playing his two favourite (And only ) grandkids’ new song Fresh Start drove all the worries of old age from his mind. He hated to say it, but he thought those two in the Metro did a better job overall, in his humble opinion. Cuttlefish frowned at all the pink and green ink around the place. Hadn’t he told those those cod darn squid-kids to stop inking up his turf. And why were pieces of the globe scattered all over the place like it had been shattered? And where was Agent--, uhh he meant Marie, with his much needed seaweed stew? What had happened here? Something was VERY fishy around here.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a lone figure walking ominously towards him from the archway, dressed in leathery Octoling armor. A helmet with a pixely squid design covered her face,. Cuttlefish squinted to make her. She smirked at him, her identity hidden by her helmet. She stepped back and opened fire with an Ink Charger, the shot flying above his head before raining down upon him. Cuttlefish dived to the side in the nick of time as the rain of ink narrowly missed. Before she could fire again, he charged her, yelling a battlecry he hoped sounded fierce but really came across as squeaky. His attacker, smirking, stepped aside and stuck her foot out.

Cuttlefish went down in like a sack of salmon, his glasses flying off his face and skidding along the ground before coming to a rest in a puddle of ink, and for the second time in two minutes, he found himself flat on his face. Well, at least he lasted longer than five seconds. Just about over. Curse his old age.

He gasped for air and as he crawled away on the ground, fumbling for his shellphone, he heard the sound of his attacker laughing. He managed to get a text off to the most recent in his contact list saying “Help I-” before she smashed his phone.

“You’re getting slow in your old age . The great Cap’n Cuttlefish, veteran of the Great Turf War and leader of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, felled by one stuck out foot. Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

Why was it always HIM who got kidnapped? Sure, go ahead, kidnap the old timer. First it was Octavio, then that stupid telepho-

“Sorry Gramps. Gotta happen,” Wait… was that-?

A boot to the head and he knew no more.

Chapter Text

Three was not a people person. This might have been because of her terrible understanding of the art of conversation. Or because she had a terrible fashion sense and people were oft to mock her for it. But it was in all likelihood because of her belief that people were an annoyance to be avoided, a distraction to be ignored, a weakness to be quenched. Or some other ominous metaphor

Three hadn’t talked with someone not connected with work in months and she intended to keep it that way. She was doing just fine on her own. She didn’t need anyone except herself. And Crusty Sean of course because she liked her food and there was no way she was cooking herself.

People had their moments, but Three generally avoided social interaction like you’d avoid a Megalodon Shark. So out of all people, sh e shouldn’t have to babysit the annoying Octoling clad in biker-style leather fresh out of saving the world. The world had a cruel sense of humor...

Off the Hook were .... off the hook because preparations had to be made for the splatfest, Callie and Marie were AWOL and Cap’n Cuttlefish was standing guard over Octo Canyon. So that left the anti-social Inkling with no actual friends to speak of.

How would she even begin to talk to her? Walk up to her, “Hey, saved the city huh? Yeah me too.” Three had killed far too many of her kind to count and she had to be her guide?  What was Cap’n thinking? Surely there’s someone better fit for this. Like… literally anyone else! If Three had been the one to find her in the subway, she would have gladly fled the other way.

She shook her head to clear it. Okay, first she needs to get Eight some respectable clothing.

Three looked at the Octoling that had been practically dropped on her doorstep, gazingly meekly at her and her attire .

Cod knows how she was able to take on all of the tests the Deepsea Metro, alone, all in high heels.

Three hated to admit it but she was impressed. All those tests… and yet she managed to keep walking with her head held high. She was a fighter, Three could relate. She solved her problems with her Ink shooter or her fists. Three herself had trouble not resorting straight to violence to solve problems. Hey, it got shit done and that was the important thing right.

Three sighed and grabbed the arm of the confused Octoling and steered her towards the nearest alleyway in the Square. Eight gave her a questioning look.

“C'mon, we can’t have you wandering around looking like you just came out of a 90s film,” Three muttered sourly.

Eight just looked at her blankly but allowed herself to be pulled roughly through the mouth of the alley. Three pulled out her satchel with a spare change of clothes. Three had her dressed in a green zip hoodie with matching green Hi-Tops faster than you could say shellfish. Eight looked at her reflection in a nearby window.

“Strange,” She whispered timidly

“Yeah? Well welcome to “The Promised Land” Squido,” Three said sarcastically.

Three had always wanted to say that.

Eight insisted on keeping the Golden Hairpin. Three didn’t question it.

Three stood back and admired her handiwork. Well, While she wasn’t going to be on the cover of Inkopolis’ Freshest anytime soon, it would do, for now anyway.

Okay, now for a bite to eat.

She tugged Eight over to Crusty Sean’s food van in the back portion of the Square..

“Order what you want, I’ve got tickets to spare.”She gestured towards the van and the friendly figure of Crusty Sean.

Eight gingerly stepped forward, eyeing Crusty Sean as if he’d pull an inkshot out from behind the counter and spray n’ pray. She pointed timidly at the largest of the meals.

The Triple-Fried Galactic Shwaffle.

Three gaped “I uhh...do you...umm...are you sure you want to do that? Maybe start with something smaller?”

Eight’s gaze remained on it.. Her eyes were gleaming and she wet her lips with her tongue in anticipation.

Three sighed “Your funeral” and slid the food ticket over to her.

An amused Sean fried up the monster of a dish, winking at the Octoling and placing it on the counter.

Eight all but attacked it, taking a huge chunk off the top of the dish, the rest soon following. Three didn’t know to whether to laugh, throw up, or run for the hills. She settled on non-commently sipping her smoothie and sharing a worried look with Crusty Sean. Eight open-mouth smiled at her, food and all. Three didn’t feel much like eating after that.

Next Three brought her around the centre of the square to get fitted for some gear. First she brought her in Ye Olde Cloth Shoppe, with Jelfonzo spouting out old-fashioned Inkish similar to Shakespearean English. It started off charming but got more and more annoying as you got to know him. It irked Three to no end. She'd known him a while.

Out of the dozens of options available, Eight chose a simple black v-neck Squidforce tee. Three approved, not being one for overcomplicated “Fresh“ clothing. In Shella Fresh, a shiny gold pair of N-Pacer Aus took Eight’s fancy. Three winced at the the price tag but she couldn't say no to Eight’s pleading ember eyes. The Cap’n would not be happy with the bill send to the NSS.

Next, she took the Octoling to Sheldon,the local gunsmith at his shop. He had an unhealthy obsession with his creations and tended to explain them in such extreme detail that you’d be there for hours at least but he was pretty nice beyond that, although very protective of his “babies”. Under Three’s request, he took them to the gun range in town using his private launcher to let Eight “Give em a whirl."

She started with the Jet Squelcher but the fire rate caused her to be blown off her feet and into the air. Not that one, Three decided.

Next she hefted up a big Splat Roller, managing for 10 seconds before collapsing from the unnatural weight of it. Not that one either.

Eight snatched up a Slosher only for all the the ink to leak out from a whole in the bottom. She tried the Inkbrush only for it to be dried out. A Charger only for it to infinitely charge. A blaster only for the shot to detonate inside the gun, nearly splating her,

“Sheldon…” Three said slowly. He gulped loudly, eyes darting from side to side as if looking for an escape.

“Would you care to explain exactly why all the weapons she’s tried so far have been either faulty or exploded ,” She said sweetly, never dropping her smile, her eyes sporting a dangerous gleam.

Sheldon stuttered out a reply, “Well uhh they might have been… e-experimental.”

“Well maybe you ought to have mentioned that before one of your “experimental” weapon NEARLY KILLED HER.” As Three screeched at Sheldon, Eight mentally noted never to get on her bad side. She had a nasty temper

Maybe I should just stick with my Octoshot.

Three tried to skip round the headwear shop but before Three could stop the Octoling she was rushing in, beaming. Three ended up having to pay the last of her funds from the Splatoon to pay for Eight’s new orange Visor, her begging was just too adora- annoying, she meant annoying. She was gonna have to get her into Turf War to pay for her own clothing. Who knew Octolings would be just as obsessed with “Looking Fresh” as Inklings?

Three and Eight walked to the the front of the lobby.

“ Murch , I need you to repair something for me.”

The Young Urchin looked up  at Three

“Hey Chum, long time no see.”

His one eye swivelled round to gaze at Eight alongside Three

“Who’s your friend?

“Never you mind.”

“Sorry ...Just uhh, making conversation. Anyway whaddya need fixed?”

Three pulled out her Hero Shot.

“Damaged it in an elevator fight.” Eight looked away guiltily.

“Hmm...damaged inner ink tank… barrel looks intact… handle looks fine-ish... should be ready in about a week...cool gun, where can I get one or is this like a secret agent only kind of thing?...loving the cape by the way, makes you look older and wiser than you are...could use some fry cleaning thou-.”

“Shut your clamshell Murch,” interrupted Three.

“You’re the boss Three...also, can I say what a spectacular name that is, it’s so humble. Like, I’m not number one nor am I number two but number three...right, I’ll shut up shall I?”

As Three glared daggers at him, Eight tried (and failed) to suppress a giggle. Three tried to ignore how cute her laugh was.

Murch winked at Eight.

“You ever get tired of this ray of sunshine over here and want some actual good company or you need to buy or fix something, you come and see me, yeah?”

Three stalked off in a huff, pulling Eight along as she waved goodbye to the Urchin.

As they walked, with Three calling Murch every foul name under the sun, (And even some not ) Eight noticed Inklings giving her looks. These looks ranged from surprised frowns to bewildered stares to hateful glares. An uneasy feeling appeared in the pit of Eights stomach. It was super effective in making her feel anxious. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to look small.

“...stupid, little urchin-scu...hey uhh Eight, you alright?” Eight thought she heard genuine concern in Three’s voice.

Must be imagining things, she thought

“P-people a-are s-sta-staring,”she whispered softly, voice breaking.

Three’s face softened.

“They just….” Just what? Never seen an Octoling not attacking them? Never seen one not wearing leather? Never seen an Octoling and an Inkling together?

Saying anything would have been better than saying nothing at all as now Eight looked more upset than ever. She sniffled and looked on the verge of tears.She let out a sob as a single tear fell down her cheek, then another and suddenly she was burying her head in Three’s shoulder, recent events finally catching up with her.

Three’s cold, cold heart melted. She could feel her past arguments silence as Three wrapped her in an embrace and whispered soothing, sweet nothings. “Shh, s’okay, shh…”

Three grip on her tightened. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to this Octoling who’d been through too much, not on her watch. She’d take on the whole world if she had to. Nothing was going to happen to the sobbing mess in her arms.

They stayed like that, Three rubbing soothing circles into Eights back as she let out all the emotion she had been bottling up since the Metro. Relief that the nightmare was over, loneliness at the loss of her friends down below and yet, despite it all, missing home and the simplicity of it all. The unknown was scary. Maybe that was why she’d been so quiet. Three could hardly criticise her for social inability.

Something had just changed in their blossoming relationship. Three began to realise how much she related to this girl. Life wasn’t fair on who it decided to pick on.

Eight begun to relax, letting out slow breaths although she refuse to come out of her perch buried in Three’s shoulder. Three realised what kind of position they were in. She was all but hugging this girl she had just met and yet she felt… a connection, a feeling of kindred spirits being caught up in a feud that had been running for generations...

As they sat in a secluded corner of the Square, Inkling comforting Octoling, Eight begun to think that maybe it would be alright.

Three wrapped her arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the lobby.

“Let’s get you a Turf War permit… so you can battle out your frustrations whenever,” She finished awkwardly. She took the Octoling over to the machine inside the lobby. It took a photo and asked for some personal info. Three typed as much info as she could about the enigmous cephalopod but when asked for a name she looked at Eight questioningly,

“You got a name or…?” She shook her head in a “No”. Three frowned at her. They didn’t have names down there in Deepsea? Strange.

Three looked thoughtful for a moment before hunching over the keyboard to type.

“How about… K-A-T-E, Kate, because it has Eight in it,” Three grinned at her cleverness while Eight looked at her in an unimpressed stare. She sighed irritably.

“Best I could come up with, OK?” She finished typing and hit confirm. A small license popped out of a slot in the machine.

“Do you have one?” Eight said suddenly. Three looked at her confusedly,

“Have what?”

“A name.”

“Oh,”

Three hated her name. It was very formal and silly sounding and just not her. She preferred her codename as it was short and to the point. But, she who wants to know is cursed with knowledge and all that. Goes to show how you really shouldn’t be inquisative or curious.

“T-H-E-R-E-S-A pronounced three-sa. Yeah, I know laugh it up.” Eight just looked up at her. Suddenly a small smile slipped onto her lips and it god wider and wider and she was laughing from small giggles to great, big chortles. Three crossed her arms and looked grumpy. Eight struggled to reign in the laughter.

“Haha…  no it’s not your name it’s just… you’re so self-conscious about it. I think it’s a very... nice name,” She started laughing uncontrollably. Three huffed and pulled her by the arm to the lobby door.

“C’mon let’s get turfin’

Their first match was an absolute nightmare. Walleye Warehouse, blue and orange colour palette. They both got placed on opposite teams for whatever reason and Three’s teammates were unbelievably incompetent, unable to aim even an ordinary Splattershot and land shots consistently. Eight’s team seemed to be the most amazing players in the history of Turf War, tactfully dodging in and out of cover and landing Charger shots that would put Marie to shame. Plus they seemed to get that in Turf War you needed to capture… well turf.

Three really wanted to find the program that matched players to each team and smash it up. It was completely unfair. After many, many undeserved deaths at the hands of each enemy at least 4 times, Three managed to sneak up behind two of their players, only for Eight to drop in from above with an extremely well timed Splashdown. Great, now Three would have to Ink some more Turf to get her special up, Coddamn it.

The second game was a little bit better, with Three’s team being able to hold dominion over the center of the map for 75% of the match, but Eight’s team managed to capture it in the last 30 seconds while Now or Never played. Three was almost ready to call it quits after two games, so miserable was her defeat. Eight was bubbly and overly happy during all this and it really got on Three’s nerves

They were finally put on the same team on their 5th match (Cod, that bot must be really angry with her today, they were getting really unlucky). They captured the middle almost immediately, which really wasn’t a good sign as that left the opposing team plenty of time to get the upper hand. Three decided to coat the outer parts of Arowana Mall with green ink. People rarely noticed you inking around the exterior to their home base, content on just rushing the middle like headless swordfish. People often didn’t… actually think logically sometimes, you know?

Three actually managed to get a fair few splats by catching them off guard as they were leaving their base. They just seemed to forget she was there every time she killed them. Maybe getting shot several times with a pair of lethal Dualies caused brain death as well?

She noticed that all four of them had managed to slip by her spawn trap like a fish escaping a net. They were predictably heading off towards the middle where Eight was holding down alone as her teammates were doing Cod knows what. She quickly superjumped over to Eight’s position, landing in a badass combat ready pose. She turned only to see Eight take down all four attackers flawlessly, all her shots landing as she zigzagged to avoid their returning fire, occasionally lobbing a splat bomb at one who got a little ambitious, her Octoshot firing in a wild, frantic arc, splatting one, two, three Inklings as they struggled to fight back. The one remaining wisely ran for his bloody life, like anyone would do. The cute and meek Octoling had transformed into a hulking behemoth in combat, she was unmatched. Three gaped at her impressive display of combat skills, dumbfounded.

She.. s-she just… how did she… wha?

Three’s brain couldn’t function. She had trouble believing what just happened actually happened. Nobody could take down that many people that quickly and still not know what the Internet was. No way.

She was going to have to talk to Cuttlefish about making Eight an official member of the Splatoon as talent like that could simply not go to waste.

Suddenly Eight tripped and her knee skimmed over the edge of a curb. Ouch, that’s gotta sting.

The match ended abruptly with them winning a smashing victory of 70% over their 17%

Three decided to call it a day, exiting the Lobby with Eight limping in tow.

She should probably show the Octoling her apartment and where it is in case she gets lost or something. Maybe if she sees the state of the place she’ll appeal for a better caretaker.

Eight was limping needed a bit of help from Three to walk. She’d fix her up once they got there.

They started at a brisk pace to Three’s apartment complex. The New Squidbeak Splatoon payed for her rent, one of the perks for being an agent. Three rarely stayed here, preferring to camp out in Octo Canyon or Octo Valley, but she did have a kitchen set up, a couch with a TV and a NES gaming console. A bedroom featuring a creaky double bed lay at the back. It wasn’t much but it was private, a sanctuary she could use to seek solace from the scariest thing of all… socialising.

She half dragged, half carried Eight up the flight of stairs to the fourth and final floor. The corridor was bleak, blank and featureless with silence weighing in the air, nothing put the patter of the cephalopod’s footstep.

Three shouldered the door open, wincing at the noise and regretting it immediately. She set Eight down gently on the coach and removed her hoodie and tracksuit. Her face went a shade of scarlet, even after she realised that she was wearing the modest undergarments she,d left for her earlier.

Eights was left in a magenta shaded tank top and dark shorts, She threw a blanket over her, slightly raising her head so she could tuck a pillow under her.

“So soft,” Eight murmured softly, running her hand across the fabric of the bedding before snuggling into it. It struck Three that maybe they didn’t have beds down below in Deepsea. She wondered if they had all the things they had in Inkopolis like beds and TVs. From her understanding of the living conditions of Octavio’s forces, they were only given the bare minimum, the essentials. Did they even have their own living spaces? Three wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She swore that she’d make sure that Eight would get to experience every aboveground luxury.

She went over to her press and took out a Bludclot fish for Eight’s wound on her knee. It was tiny, only about the size of her finger and it was quite sticky. It would attach to Eight’s knee chase away any infection and also had healing properties. She would barely even feel it in the morning. She gently pressed it to her knee, making sure it was stuck on correct. Eight was breathing softly out of her nose, not quite snoring but just indicating that she’d drifted off. Three smiled softly at her sleeping form.

When had she stopped being annoying and started becoming endearing? Three supposed it was when she had burst out crying on the street. That had certainly changed things between them. Was that… affection she was feeling? But she’d only just met her!

Three was usually slow to trust anyone in the best of time, to really let herself care for them but this girl had really gotten to her on only their first meeting. It was miraculous.

She headed into her bedroom, leaving the door ajar just in case. She lay down on a proper bed for the first time in months . Her eyes drifted to a close. To say Three slept well would be an understatement.

Another understatement would be to say that Eight did not.

Her nightmares came in the form of glimpses of her past. Being rebirthed in a tank, being taken away from her brothers and sister, programmed to hate the colours green and orange, and the squidtastic beats of the Calamari Inkantation. Then a high mountain, an open canyon, a dark metro, staring at a poster of a cityscape, trying to will herself to be there and tests, so many tests. Eight Balls, Inkrails, Inkjets, Ballers and sanitised Octarians. They kept replaying over and over, her escape never coming …

Eight awoke with a start, falling out of her bed on Three’s sofa, the impact shocking her into awareness. The pale rays of dawn shone through the window. She sat up,shivering despite the warmth of the apartment.

She put her hand to her cheek only to find there was a wet stain due to tears. Eight must have been crying in her sleep. She cleared her nose only to find the bedroom door ajar with Three peeking in. She forgot. Secret-agent-ingrained light sleeping.

“So-sorry, had a n-nightmare,” She stuttered, not knowing how the sleepy Inkling would react to being awakened.

“S’alright,” Three mumbled, still half-asleep, “I’m an early...(She let out a loud yawn, stretching her arms up)... bird anyway.”

Eight raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Mind if I sit?” Three asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Eight nodded solemnly, unsure of what to say.

“When I get nightmares of the past, I tell myself over and over that their behind me, that they can’t hurt me. And neither can they hurt you.” Three patted her on the back weakly.

Eight hugged her, “Thanks...for everything. Taking me into your home, getting me new clothes, introducing me to the ins and outs of Inkling culture. It’s a kindness of a sort I’ve never been given. So..thank you.” Three said nothing, the silence choking the words she still had to say from her voice. It took her 20 seconds to realise Three had fallen asleep

Setting Three down on the sofa-bed, Eight wandered over to the kitchen. It was in pristine condition, the cutlery shining, everything neat and orderly, a nice smell in the air. Eight could even see her own reflection in the floor tiles.

All of this screamed to Eight that Three had rarely even set foot in here, let alone cooked something because Three didn’t strike her as a “neat and tidy” kind of Inkling. Eight didn’t get much experience with cooking but she was eager to try.

Three found her hours later, covered from head to toe in various mixtures and ingredients with a happy smile on her face, the kitchen in a state with pots, cutlery and various other cooking utensils lining the floor.. Three couldn’t find it in herself to be mad, no matter how hard she tried. All she could do the was smile fondly.

Chapter Text

Inkopolis was a beautiful sight at early morning. Vivid colours filled the brightening sky with a gentle glow, music could be heard in the distance as well as those singing along to it. Little squid kids ran from building to building in an ultimate game of hide n’ seek. Laughter and conversation filled the air. Inklings diving in and out of manholes, whooping with glee. It truly was a utopia for all. Or at least it appeared like that, on the surface. But like in any society, you start to see the cracks the closer you look.

Three and Eight walked wordlessly between the neon lit buildings at the front of the apartment complex. The alley was covered in graffiti, ranging from beautiful artwork of sealife and video games to silly messages like “League Battles suck” to the ever popular “Woomy”. Three had gotten a call from a friend, saying it was urgent and telling them to meet him in Inkopolis Square as soon as possible.

Just as they were to reach the mouth of the alleyway, three inklings stepped out onto either side of the alleyway, two in front, male and female, two behind, male. They all sported inkling parkas with aviator sunglasses and the two at the front had an N-ZAP ‘85 each, with the back two wielding Splat Chargers, all fit with matching predator grins. Three reached for her Hero Shot but came up empty, remembering she had given it to Murch for repairs.

Oh Shell she thought as she realized the bad spot they were in.

If Three got splatted, she’d just respawn at a spawn point in the Square. However Eight hadn’t been scanned for it yet. If she got splatted now, their wouldn’t be any coming back..

Eight couldn’t possibly take on three armed inklings unarmed by herself. Maybe if she had some kind of weapon but without? No way.

The Inkling boy, seemingly the leader stepped forward, leering at Eight, singling her out,

“Look at you, thinking you can just waltz into this city like you own it? We worked hard for this and you can’t take that from us. You and your kind have splatted hundreds of us and you think you can just come into our city and not suffer the consequences for it.” The others nodded their heads in agreement, eyes blood-hungry. They could expect no hesitance from these psychos.

Three stepped forward ,eyes narrowed. Beside her Eight was trembling. Three stepped in front of her defensively. She was NOT going to let this stand. Scum like these gave Inklings a bad name.

“You leave her alone! The Octarians weren’t in control of their actions, you want someone to blame? Blame Octavio and his stupid music.” The leader cackled, almost maniacally, his friends joining in hesitantly. He was clearly unstable.

“C’mon girl, they’ve splatted hundreds of us, maybe more. They didn’t show us mercy.”

“So we return that with splating them?” said Three,“You’re just a bloodthirsty thug who's looking for a reason to hurt people,” She glared.

He leaned in close.The Inkling boy, with gritted teeth, hissed at Three

“ Move...Aside. This is a fight that’s been ongoing for generations. You really think some silly song and a brave act is going to change that? You’re dumber than you look girl, now move aside. I won’t ask again. ” His demeanor was threatening.

“Not, ever.” Three stood her ground, her expression steely.

He sighed and stepped back, signaling to his cronies. Then they started firing.

All things considered, things could’ve gone better.

Three grabbed the leader and shoved him into the immediate path of the girl, knocking his gun from his hands and causing him to topple onto the ground with an “oof”.

“GO, RUN!” she yelled pushing Eight out of the alleyway as she turned to face the others. The Inklings on the other side fired a barrage of ink. Green ink flew as if in slow motion across the alleyway, aimed at Eight. She wasn’t going to make it.

Eight looked around in terror as the approaching barrage as time seemed to slow down.

Her life flashed before her eyes. The high points, the low points but mostly disappointment for going out like this. All the thing’s she’d never got to experiance, only write about. Love, purpose in the world, a place to call her own. She prepared for the end of the road, accepting that this was the grand finale.

SPLAT!

Eight’s expression changed from scared to shocked to angry as Three dove into the path of the Ink. She couldn’t believe that this Inkling she had just met would do something so noble for her, even if she would respawn in the Square.

She-she just-... f-for me.

No time to dwell on that now, the practical side of her interrupted.

She rounded the corner and immediately found herself in a huge crowd of people like the tide of an ocean. They pushed her down the street like a tidal wave pushes a crowd of crabs from the beach. She struggled against the crowd as they puller her south. Seeing that her pursuers were closing in, she squeezed through the crowd and, figuring out a plan, slipped under the low hanging shutters of an empty nearby warehouse. It was time to end this once and for all. They would rue the day they crossed paths with this Octoling, she would make sure of that.

“GET HER,” The Leader screamed, standing back to call for reinforcements as the others hurriedly ran in pursuit.

The warehouse consisted of one singular, large room with stacks of crate forming a ring around the center. The room was dimly lit with sea-lamps, casting long, dark shadows that spread across almost all of the room. Eight stopped defiantly in the centre of the ring of crate-stacks, taking an aggressive stance as the three inklings approached. They wasted no time in opening fire on her. Eight gracefully rolled out of the way, baiting them into the centre as she retreated to the exterior of the ring. Eight circled them as they fired wildly, knocking out the sea-lamps as she went using the crate stacks as cover. Soon the entire room was in darkness. But darkness was an old friend to Eight.

The Inklings panicked and fired even more erratically, destroying the upper portion of the crate-stack Eight was behind. The vials containing green of ink contained in the crates exploded , lifting everyone off their feet.  Eight channelled her momentum into a forward role. She landed perfectly only for a piece of wooden shrapnel to burrow itself in her thigh. Eight hissed in pain as she yanked it out, pink ink beginning to flow freely from the wound. The warehouse was almost completely covered in green ink at that stage, the Inklings certainly hadn’t checked their fire.

The inklings were beginning to recover from the explosion. Unbeknownst to them, Eight had snagged their CCN (Colour Correctional Navigator) -that allowed them to swim in ink- when running past the leader in the alleyway,leaving Eight able to submerge in their ink but leaving them vulnerable and unable to submerge. Time to even the odds.

Eight dived into the ink, snaking underneath her attackers. The hunters became the hunted.

They seemed to realise what was going on and made a break for the exit. Eight anticipated this and dove out in front, between them and the exit. She launched into the air and hovered for a split second before twisting in mid air and colliding with the first inkling, hitting him with her elbow, grappling with him and using him to block all the fire his buddies sent her way.

SPLAT!

One down.

She went low, sending a spinning kick at the back of the girl’s knee, knocking her to the ground. She resubmerged in the ink before reappearing on the other side of them, giving the boy a might shove sending him tripping over the girl and flying across the room.

The girl leapt to her feet and tried to whack her with the butt of her Charger but Eight masterfully dodged, grabbing her in a tight embrace and diving to the ground with her. Just before impact, she morphed into Octo form, cushioning herself. The Inkling girl wasn’t so lucky .

These bullies were not well trained, it was almost unfair that they would respawn and walk away freely from this as they had no way of keeping track of them.

Eight snatched up the girl’s dropped Charger, spun around and was caught dead-center in the Inkling boy’s  Charger crosshair. Her own was charged but still faced away from him. She only had one shot at this.

“D-do-don’t m-move or I-I shoot” He stuttered, trembling. As he was poised to kill her, she took a couple of seconds to take in his appearance.

His green tentacle-locks were slicked back, his eyes shone as if he was wearing contacts and she could see he was sporting a Squid Sisters tee underneath his partly unzipped coat, with their logo also on his belt buckle. He had clearly never splatted someone outside of Turf War and certainly never killed anyone. His eyes betrayed his hesitancy. He must have been roped into this by his peers. He was terrified of her, seeing her dispatch the others with ease.

Eight almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

She fired.

The squidkid jumped at the sound but surprisingly managed to keep his Charger leveled at her. His expression changed from scared to cocky.

“You missed,” he smirked

She gave him a questioning look as if to say, “are you sure about that?”

He arched his eyebrows in confusion before a hissing sound filled the room. He turned around as the final ink crate-stack in the room exploded, throwing like a ragdoll into the wall.

Eights victory was short lived as the shutter opened to reveal the pack leader with two inklings, all wielding Aerospray MGs...

“FIRE WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE,”

Definitely extreme prejudice.

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Three liked dying.

The feeling of all your body parts being blown apart only for them to melt into ink and mix back together was usually oddly satisfying but wasn’t quite ideal at the moment.

Why was that again? She swore that something important was going on… oh yes because her frien-- ahem she meant enem- what were they do it each other again? Never mind, her ...thing was in trouble with some slightly (OK heavily) discriminative thugs.

She distinctly remembered the leader having large bunny ears. Or were those headphones? Probably bunny ears. Anyway him and his chums had marched up to them and pointed guns at them. Those guys seriously had no chill.

Could they not just ask politely to kill her? Maybe chivalry is dead after all. And how was this her life now? Being the New Squidbeak Splatoon’s lapdog, shooting whoever they wanted her to shoot and cleaning up after a stupid, annoying, space-invading little shi-

She snapped out of her post-death drunken stupor as she realised that Eight might really need help. She rushed off from the respawn point in a hurry dialing on her NSS communicator. She needed a weapon and she needed one now . While she had been comparing headphones to ears, Eight had been in real danger and could be killed any minute now. What the shell was she thinking?

She rushed across the square towards the first place that sprung to mind.

She hoped … no, pleaded, ...  that she wasn’t too late.

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You know, Murch really ought to start charging for his service. People kept approaching him, demanding he help them in the name of some noble cause. Shell, him making money was a noble cause in his opinion.

Could they not just ...get their clothing or their weapon modifications legally for once? Why did they have to order everything off the black market. Inklings were so lazy, not bringing their own guns to a fight. Murch had people who needed shooting too so maybe they could lay off him for one evening at least, Right? Just a thought.

Agent “Oh, I’ve got a cape now, I’m so cool” Three ran up to him, out of breath, panting,

“Need ...(Pants) ,,, Big ... (Pants) … gun … (Pants) … Eight … in … trouble”

Cod damn his life. Life sure loved its lemons. He'd just have to make the damn lemonade.

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Eights attackers were closing in. There was only so much of their slow-firing shots she could avoid. She was out of ideas and getting desperate at this point. Her pool of green ink was quickly dissipating as they filled the warehouse with blue ink, seeming having figured her trick out. They had her on the ropes.

Outnumbered and outgunned. The finish line. Journey’s end. End of the road.

Could they just get it over with already?

In the nick of time Three’s rapid-fire barrage of DEATH from her splatling cut through the two henchman like a knife to butter. They convulsed violently as the droplets of ink smacked into their unsuspecting bodies and they dropped to the -now completely ink stained- ground.

SPLAT! SPLAT!

The splodges they had created contrasted with Three’s spray and what remained of the first three inklings mess, making the whole warehouse-turned-battlefield look like some kind of elaborate art piece, beautiful only to its creators. A face only a mother could love.

Three turned to finish off the vicious inkling that had started the whole thing, just as her ink tank clicked empty. Her target turned his sights towards her, weapon raise, cruel victorious grin on his face.

Eight tackled him to the ground with fervor, wrestling with him for the gun. He headbutted her and she fell off him, stunned. Three jumped onto his back from behind, knocking the MG from his hands but he managed to grab the tail of her cape and dislodge her with a sharp tug following with a swift kick to the chin, sending her tumbling back, landing flat on her back, out cold. Eight was clutching her injured thigh, dragging herself over towards Three. He reached for his gun

A crowd of spectators, both Octoling and Inkling formed, watching as the inkling towered over the cowering Octoling.

An Octoling, wearing a Silver Tentatek vest and azure spectacles stepped forward, putting himself between Three and Eight and the advancing inkling and strutted her chin out defiantly. Another followed her example, this time wearing a Berry Ski jacket and a FishFry visor, moved to stand beside the first.

Next an inkling in a ridiculous-looking squinja suit pushed his way through the crowd to join the group. Soon an entire posse of cephalopods stood in front of the predator and his prey. All those not apart of the gathering, too scared to join, watched as Inklings and Octolings stood together, united under a common goal, to protect their own. It was truly an inspiring sight.

The lone inkling standing alone in the face of the posse turned and ran but a foot came out from the crowd tripping him as a hand came out to snatch the Aerospray MG from his grasp and whack him over the head with it

His bright yellow hoodie and triangular headphones helped set him apart from the rest of the Inklings.

“If ya knew what’s good for you, you’d stay down,. I’d say I’d hate to shoot ya but I would really, really enjoy it so please, give me a reason, clambag.”

Heedlessly, he scrambled to his feet, breaking into a run.

Agent Four sighed, “They never learn, do they?”

A spray of ink and the Inkling toppled.

SPLAT!

Chapter Text

Today was a mixed bag in Four’s opinion .

Okay maybe waging more towards bad. First, he found out his friend and mentor’s friend and mentor had been kidnapped along with Four’s friend and mentor and his other friend and mentor.  Now he was just making things confusing.

So he was pretty upset about that. But then he found out that Splat Zones was being played and that made everything better. Even his gear needing fry cleaning couldn’t sour his good mood after that.

But then EmoSquid157 and her Octoling tag-along just had to get themselves into a gunfight with a couple of overzealous Inklings.

So here came Four-th (Get it?) the self-proclaimed greatest agent to ever grace The Splatoon… despite needing help to defeat Octavio when his predecessor (He refused to call her by her number because it was higher than his) not needing help. But that was just luck… surely just luck. Anyway he got to catch a baddie and say a badass one liner so all’s fair in love and war right?

Wrong.

Four dropped the positive facade he had installed within himself to prevent himself from choking with worry over Marie’s kidnapping.

“Here, help me get her up” he urged to Eight, gesturing at the unconscious Three. Eight finished tightening the fabric strip she’d ripped off her sleeve around her injured leg and slumped Three’s arm around her neck before grabbing hold of her leg as Four did the same. Members of the crowd rushed forward to help but Four waved them off

“We got ‘er, stand back, let’s have some space” He said with a  charismatic smile, some of his natural charm shining through despite the dark pit of worry threatening to swallow him whole. The crowd parted as Octoling and Inkling lifted their fallen friend through.

“Follow me, I’ll get us somewhere safe” He murmured to Eight, She obliged, taking twists and turns before finally emerging out into the open space of Inkopolis Square, breathing a sigh of relief. Four pushed his way through the small following they had gathered until he reached the manhole to Octo Canyon at the front of the Square. He turned to Eight,

“You okay to carry her?” He pointed at her leg questioningly. She looked blankly at him

“Through the hol- Look just follow me,” he waved his hand at her and swan-dived into the manhole. Eight looked down into the abyss nervously, debating whether to blindly trust this stranger.

If Three trusted him, she did too.

She hoisted Three’s limp body onto her back and dived into the hole, hurtling into the unknown.

Time and space seemed to warp as Eight rushed through the channel, water flowing strongly around her, Strangely, she was brought back to her time in the tank before her “rebirth”. Of just floating, with no bearing of time or thought. Just feelings and sensation. Eight almost missed it, not worrying about fitting in or what other cephalopods thought of her. Just existing.

She was almost mournful when the short ride ended and she launched out of the manhole, landing in a spluttering pile of Ink and tangled limbs as she landed ungracefully, with Three still clinging to her back unconsciously. She extracted herself from the pile only to see Four clapping sarcastically at her.

“As far as first times go...Mine was better” He said cockily. Eight just ignored him, turning to pick up Three as gently as she could before placing her on the couch near the TV with Fresh Start playing.

“This is where they were taken.” Eight looked up at Four’s voice.”The Ink shows there was a struggle, although oddly enough there’s no Octo-Ink. I found Cuttlefishes glasses, cracked, so he must have been taken too. But we have no idea where they were taken or even the first place to look” He sat on a stone with a defeated expression, eyes cast downward. Eight but a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t think like that, we’ll find them. We always do” She reassured him. His glum expression failed to turn hopeful but Eight wasn’t so easily deterred. She pulled him into a hug, She seemed to be giving out a lot of those recently. He sat up, steeling himself.

“I’'ll be back, gonna grab that perp, got a few questions for him.” A flushing sound and he was gone.

Three took this moment to let an audible gasp and sit up.

Eight rushed over to her and helped her to her feet as she looked around, dazed.When she felt confident Three could stand by herself, she moved back to access her for any injuries (Other than her probable concussion). Only then did Eight let herself relax and comprehend the last hour. She’d been ambushed . Her attackers, they were so filled with hate. Like, nothing would please them more than an Octoling Ink puddle. What had she done to deserve this? She had just saved them and they returned it with this.

“Eight...” Three called weakly, voice hoarse. Eight turned and sat down next to her on the coach, wiping tears beginning to form. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t protect you from them… so sorry…” she trailed off.

“Hey, hey shhh, you did great. You saved me. You saved me .”

Three smiled weakly at her,“Then you saved me… guess we're even now.”

Three clasped her on the shoulder as Eight smiled at her…

“Am I interrupting something?”

Three and Eight jumped as Four’s booming voice echoed through the Canyon. Eight let out an undignified squeak as Three turned to glare at the sly Inkling as he shark-grinned at them, holding an unconscious, blindfolded Inkling over his shoulder. “Picked him up leaving the respawn”

Together they tied him to a thick tree branch, suspending him by his ankles so he was hanging like a pinata. Hmm... that gave Four an idea.

They removed the blindfold and Three splashed him with a slosher. He gasped and opened his beady eyes, taking in his surroundings

“Hey, I’m not one to complain when I wake up with two beautiful girls standing over me, but would you mind telling me what’s going on and why I’m upside down?”

Three shared a look with Four.

“How hard did you hit ‘em?” She asked, puzzled. First he was trying to kill Eight (And HAD killed her) and now he was flirting (Not very well) with her? There must to be more to this guy than just a racist thug right?

Four pulled out a Splat Roller. “Now, you're going to tell me how, where and from who you got those weapons or I’m gonna bust you, slowly, with this,” The Inklings eyes widened in fear. Three was surprised by Four’s ruthlessness. It was very unlike the kind, charming agent she loved to hate. Marie’s disappearance must be affecting him more than he let on.

“Wow buddy, slow down. Me, weapons? I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy. WAIT, PLEASE NO.” He shrieked as Four advanced on him. Three grabbed his arm.

“Wait. I think he’s actually telling the truth.” Four stared incredulously at her as Eight looked at her curiously.

“THANK YOU, seriously you guys should listen to her, she’s clearly the brains of the operation,” Four pointed at him warningly with the Roller and he shutted up.

Three prodded him with her toe. “What’s the last thing you remember before Four picked you up?” He frowned.

“I was meeting this guy. He was hookin me up with some real good salmonid egg, you ever tried one? No? They’re really good in that stew my mom mak-”

“Get to the point,” Four grunted impatiently, waving the Roller around threateningly.

“Sorry, I talk when I’m nervous, anyway I remember going to the meet point. I was waitin for him when I heard this really electric song ynow? Comin’ out of a sewer grate. Really got stuck in my head. And then…” He hesitated. Four’s hand shifted towards the Roller. “Okay, okay! I felt this… really intense anger. Like it was already there but only faintly and this song really brought it out. Really weird.”

Eight’s face paled at his words. She took a step back, breathing heavily. The other two didn’t seem to notice, too busy bickering among themselves.

“So he wasn’t in control of himself!”

“So what,he just, magically attacked you because he heard a song? I’m not buying it, I mean, look at him. He’s already a pretty shifty character, what with the illegal Salmonid eggs-.”

“Brainwashing” They both turned to look at Eight in shock as she spoke, “What he described just now… it was exactly how it felt to… t-to-” Eight couldn’t go on, trembling and fearful for what this could mean.

“It’s okay, we understand,” She gestured to Four to give them a minute, taking her hand and squeezing as a silent show of support. Three had no idea how this dynamic between them had developed but she was strangely okay with it.

“Oh Shit-” Four exclaimed,

“Hey! No language in front of Eight.”

“Octavio- he’s gone! The globe’s smashed. Do you think he-”

“Escaped from the globe, kidnapped the Squid Sisters and their gramps and brainwashed the Inkling who attacked us? Yes I do,” Three interrupted. “The only question is… how?”

Four stared at Eight.”Maybe he had someone on the inside. Someone who had access to this place. Nobody could have broken in here, the defences are too good. Marie made sure of that. Three knew exactly what he was thinking but before she could stop him he rounded on Eight.

“It was you, wasn’t it? This was your plan all along . To gain our trust, lull us into a false sense of security. Then you knocked the Cap’n out, knocking off his glasses after splatting Callie , in cold blood, judging by the Ink stains on the ground. As for Marie, you probably carted her off with Cuttlefish. You were probably gonna splat us the moment our backs were turned. Guess you Octolings are just pawns after all” Four snarled and reached for his Brella.

“THAT IS ENOUGH,” Three bellowed. Eight’s delicate heart that had finally begun to heal shattered at his words. Her eyes welled up with tears

She had worked so hard for them to like her, to accept her. She had saved them, their city and they accused her of being a spy for that monster. The monster who had convinced her that they hated and feared her, that they would never agree to coexist with their kind. Maybe he wasn’t so wrong.

.Eight spun on her heels and stalked back towards the Inkopolis manhole. She emerged on the other side, before suddenly making a decision.

She would find Cuttlefish by herself, she owed him that much from the Metro. Then she’d be done with the surface, finish living out her days in the Deepsea. Inklings clearly wouldn’t accept her- them. Couldn’t accept that they weren’t the villains in this story .

Three and Four were still arguing heatedly and didn’t see her leave.

“That was not warranted and you know it! She has done nothing but good for this city, nothing short of a hero and does not deserve your suspicions and your mistrust, especially after all she’s been through. She’s been through so much and is twice the cephalopod you’ll ever be.”

“Oh yeah? Well where is this “hero” to defend herself? To prove she’s innocent?”

Three looked around, she was nowhere in sight. “Eight?” She called out, only for a flushing sound to echo as it played. Her eyes widened in panic as she took of in a run, leaving Four to follow her. She managed to glimpse the last trace of Eight disappearing into the manhole. She was about to blindly follow her when she realised that she could have gone anywhere in Octo Canyon. Where could she have gone? She thought in despair.

She punched a nearby wall angrily, wincing as her knuckled bruised.

“I’m sorry I… wasn’t thinking, I was…”  He sighed, “I was worried about Mar-”

“DO NOT EVEN TALK TO ME RIGHT NOW! Because of your worry , Eight could be captured or killed or… worse, and it is  ALL… YOUR… FAULT!” She screamed at him. She sat down, putting her head in her hands, almost sobbing. Over the short time she’d known Eight, the innocent yet kick-ass Octoling had worked into a space in her heart that few could. If something happened to her, Three would never forgive herself. Or Four.

Chapter Text

Eight mourned the life she thought she could have. All those days of dreaming of nothing but the surface, of a glamourous city and a warm welcome. Of friends, of finally belonging. Eight wasn’t so naive anymore. She had glimpsed the dark underbelly of this society and wanted no part in a world that hated and feared her.

She pulled up the hood or her hoodie, hiding the tentacle-locks that marked her as an Octoling. If she wanted to find Cuttlefish, she’d need help. Fortunately, she knew just the Octoling for the job.

She remembered Marina mentioning something about a studio in the Square. She searched around before finally finding it opposite the manhole. It was late and Off the Hook were finishing up for the night. Eight hated to follow her like this but she didn’t see any other options. Any of the surrounding Inklings could have been under Octavio’s control, Eight was confident that Octolings could resist him, spending as much time brainwashed as they had.

Marina waved Pearl goodbye before heading off towards the southern part of Square. Eight followed her discreetly, trying to keep as low of a profile as possible. She took a right turn, then a left before walking in to a pretty modest building for someone of her status.

She took the elevator and Eight was forced to chase her up the stairs. She checked the first three flours and found nothing, She clambered up the last flight of stairs before  reaching the fourth floor. She pushed open the latched door … only to come face to face with Marina… pointing an N-ZAP at her. Eights hands immediately went up. This wasn’t how she was planning on revealing herself but oh well.

“Who are you and… uhh, why ‘you following me?” She demanded, trying to sound gruff but the natural sweetness shone through. Eight slowly lowered her hood.

Marina’s eyebrows shot up but her expression remained neutral.

“Well…” She sighed, lowering her weapon, “You better come in…”

So the two Octos ended up around Marina’s kitchen counter, mugs of hot sea-spray each. Marina’s apartment was a two room loft, with the primary room consisting of a mini-kitchen in the left corner and a dining room with several chairs. In the right corner was a large leather couch with simple green cushions arranged in an L formation. There was a small coffee table by the couch. (A flat screen TV was installed into the wall with a… was that a Nintendo Switch?!!! Those things were rarer than Marina winning splatfests.) A grand piano stood in the center of the room. A stairs led off to the bedroom.The place certainly looked lived in, posters of Off the Hook strewn about and. A magazine with the pair beamed up at Eight from the counter.

“... So these Inklings tried to kill you? Then this guy, Four, he accuses you of being a spy?”

Eight nodded solemnly. “Inklings… always so quick to blame the Octoling,” Marina sympathised, as if speaking from experience, “So you need my help to track them down? And you’re saying Pearl or any other Inkling can’t be involved in this? Okay…” She paused mulling over it, pacing around the room, “...I’ll help you but hear me when I say there are good sealife in this city. Not everyone’s salmonid spawn or brainwashed by that ridiculous Octopus.” She smiled shyly, “Feels good to call him that.”

Eight shrugged, her foot tapping a nervous rhythm into the floorboards

“Sorry for intruding,” Said Eight apologetically, “I had nowhere else to go.” Marina waved her off.

“It’s no trouble. You just get the Cap’n back in one piece once we find him. And make sure the Squid Sisters know they owe me. Besides, what are friends for?+-” She winked at Eight, pulling out her signature laptop. “Give me a couple hours to figure this out.

“I’ve got a spare bed if you wanna crash. You could use the rest, Eight. Seriously. I’ll hold the fort.”

Eight sighed in submission, slipping up the stairs into Marina’s bedroom, noticing curiously that she slept in a bunk bed similar to the kind in the Octarian barracks. Pictures spanned the wall of the room. Marina during her first day on the surface. Pearl and Marina’s meeting on Mount Nantai. Pearl rehearsing her voice. Pearl and Marina taking a cheesy selfie, Marina looking shy with Pearl grinning from ear to ear. An awful lot of pictures of Pearl. Eight smiled softly, hoping one day she’d have a… friend like that She clambered to the top bunk and was out cold mere seconds after her head touched the pillow. Her dreams was unsurprisingly unkind.

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Four knew he screwed up badly.

He regretted his accusation mere minutes after he had made it. This was the Octoling that had saved the city. And what kind of evidence did he even throw at her anyway? The fact that they were taken by surprise? Idiot.

Now Eight was in the wind, Three wasn’t talking to him, and he was no closer to finding Marie. He’d really screwed everything up. As usual. Couldn’t even protect his… what exactly?

The night before she’d been taken, they’d been training together at Camp Triggerfish, with many of the other Inklings staring at them in awe at their skills so they had run off to find a private . Four grinned as he remembered her putting him on his ass during the sparring, knocking his practice Roller out of his hand. Four knew from experience that she was a lot more than the shy and meek inkling she appeared. She could handle a Charger like no other and her close-combat skills were no joke either.

She had been straddling him, grinning one of her rare, teasing grins, and he had finally plucked up what little courage he had in these kind of things and pressed his mouth to hers.

Y’know how people talk about  being shocked about it before gradually accepting it? Yeah, well there wasn’t any of that. It felt entirely natural, two people drifting together, like the hands of fate. Like it was meant to be.

These were all thoughts he had afterwards as his brain wasn’t really functioning properly at the time. She had winked at him and walked off without out a word. Very Marie. The next day he popped out the manhole into Octo Canyon and… the rest is history…

Four clenched his fists. He would make this right, no matter what it took. If he had to sell his soul to be sanitised, he would do it.

He ran to catch up to Three as she headed to the manhole.

“So uhh… what’s the plan?” Three stubbornly ignored him. Cod, she could be so damn headstrong. “We goin’ after her or what?... Seriously? Your just gonna ignore me as we walk… wherever we’re walking? Fine, have it your way.” He started humming Marie’s favourite melody, the one she’d sung when she had arrived in the nick of time to save his sorry ass from DJ Octavio and her brainwashed cous-... wait, what if…

What if the hypnoglasses weren’t just a temporary effect but a long term one. Like if you wore them, you were automatically hypnotised and removing them wasn’t going to break it.

“Shit,” Four swore. Three stopped to glare at him. “It wasn’t Eight, it was Callie!” Three rolled her eyes and kept walking, “No wait… hear me out. While you were Deepsea, Callie was kidnapped and brainwashed with these hypnotising glasses. Well what if the effects never wore off?...” Three looked at him with shock.

“We need to talk to Off the Hook. They’re the only ones who can help us now.”

Although they had no luck finding the Octoling half of the duo, they managed to corner Pearl outside her house. Well, calling it a “house” was an understatement as “mansion” would be more appropriate. The walls and ceilings of the structure were clad in Pearl’s signature pink and white colours contrasting oddly with the near-gothic architecture of the building. Out front was a seasalt-free pool and hedges with an assortment of shapes including squids, cuttlefish and even octopus trimmed into them, not to mention the Shellicopter parked in the back. She had clearly spared no expense

Four took a moment to admire the massive speakers protruding from the -he presumed- studio section of the monstrosity of a house. Those could play some seriously squidtastic beats, he reckoned.

Whilst Marina had gone for more meek dwellings, Pearl had clearly embraced her idol status with her home and its location, sitting on a nice piece of elevated ground just outside the city, its grandness on display.

She rolled her eyes upon spotting them. “So… who are you two again? Not to be rude but I meet a lot of Inklings… Oh, right your the two that saved the zapfish. I mean, you can forgive me right? You guys are old news. Anyway, how will you take up my valuable time today? And no, you can’t bribe me to win the splatfest.” She said jokingly, sobering when she saw their grim expressions.

The two explained to her Four’s theory, with her frequently interrupting to make an unflattering remark about Callie. She lost her humour when hearing that Callie was most likely brainwashed. Her demeanor turned serious.

“OK no time to lose, let’s get this Oct-”

A sonic wave knocked them all to the ground.

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“C’mon Eight, you got this.”

Marina was running overwatch while Eight was following up on some leads. She had run into some rogue Octoling mercenaries trying to kidnap a VIP Inkling as apparently he been reconing what was left of DJ Octavio’s forces (Mainly just sanitised Octarians). The encounter had got ugly and now she was pinned down behind a large crate as the mercenaries fire suppressing fire around her. As you do.

She bowled a curling bomb on the left side before diving to the right, spraying with her Octoshot. One of them stepped in close with an Octo Brush. She dodged his first strike before grabbing the handle and forcing it down so it pole vaulted him into the air. He was sent sprawling on the ground after landing. He didn’t get up.

“Sniper, atop the tower.” Marina warned.

A Charger-user fired Tenta Missiles on her position. Eight retreated into the Ink path she had set up as they came bearing down upon her. She swam up the tower, launching over his head she Spartan-kicked them off, snatching the charger out of their grip. She dove off the tower as a Sting Ray penetrated the spot she was just a moment ago. She flanked before letting out an onslaught of narrow Ink streams. The shocked sniper barely had time to activate an Inkjet to avoid it. Little did they know that Eight had sneaked her way onto a platform above them. She pounced like a cat, letting go of the Charger to grab hold of the back of the Inkjet. She started tearing off components, causing the propulsion system to go haywire. The Inkjet spiraled off into the side of a wall, Eight diving off just before it hit.

The last Octoling pulled out a boom box, lifting it above their heads, a triumphant grin on their face. Eight recognized the sounds involved as those Octavio uses in his hypno-beats. The Octoling’s grin faltered as they saw the boom box was having no effect Eight. Eight drew her Octoshot and rapidly sprayed Ink, splatting both the Octoling and the boom box. She frowned puzzledly.

“Eight… ‘you still with me?” Eight held up her radio and replied.

“I’m here.”

“Checking your brain activity. It seems… normal?” Marina frowned. “Get back here so I can run a test to make sure you weren’t affected. That’s strange.”

Eight slung her Octoshot over her shoulder. She wondered what this could mean. Were those freed by the Inkantation immune now? She needed to get back and find out.

“Launching in 3.2.1.” Eight took to the air, sailing through the sky to Marina’s transport.

“Diagnostics show… nothing, nothing at all. Was the hypno-beats off tune or something?”

Eight was back in Marina’s apartment, with a scanner attached to her head. Marina was fidgeting with it, trying to get it to pick up on a rogue brain signal.

“Maybe being brainwashed before was… like a vaccination?” Eight supplemented as Marina scrunched up her face in thought.

“Maybe… or maybe it’s ingrained so deep my sensors can’t pick it up. That would be bad.”

“Looks like we’re going to just have to take that risk,” Eight sighed, dropping into an armchair. She was exhausted from the fight as well as how unkind her dreams had been the night before. To be honest she was kinda sick of looking at those Metro stations. She stretched her arms over her head, sighing in relief.

Marina gave her a concerned look, “How you doing besides the whole might be hypnotised thing anyway? This whole ordeal can’t have been easy for you.”

Eight gave her a reassuring smile, “I survived the Metro, I’ll survive this.”

“Well… if you need anybody to, y’know, talk to… I’m always here,” She bumped her fist against Eight’s affectionately, a tradition from humans that Octolings had adapted, for whatever reason.

“Thanks Reena,” Eight teased.

Marina’s eyes widened, “Oh my Cod… did you just make a joke ,” She said in mock astonishment, “Next you’ll be graduating to knock knock jokes.”

“Shut up,” She said with pretend gruffness, secretly enjoying the banter.

Marina’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the internet.”

“Who is this “internet” that you speak of?

Was I really this gullible once upon a time? Marina thought. She liked to think she wasn’t and that she adapted to society astonishingly quicky and there were no embarrassing moments whatsoever. Just don’t ask Pearl.

A couple of cat videos, bullshit articles and less-than kid-friendly advertisements later and Eight got the idea. Next Marina introduced her (Or tried to) to the wonders of hot drinks. Eight came out of the experience of the opinion that tea was foul-tasting mud and coffee was the kind of thing interrogators would use to torture anything with taste buds. She regretted giving Eight something fizzy the moment she gulped it down and her eyes bulged with hyper excitement.

Eight took to playing the piano surprisingly well, imitating the first couple of bars of the Calamari Inkantation on her 4th try. Her eyes lit up with pride as the song slowly came together under her fingertips. She certainly had potential, Marina could admit. She was a pretty fast learner, music just seemed to come naturally to her.

Marina was surprised to find that she could speak, read and write fluent Inkish. Eight explained her poetry interest and how knowing different languages stemmed from wanting to write to a diverse audience. Marina promised she’d be able to try out everything she wanted to do when this was over. Eight could feel her affection for the popstar growing almost sisterly, her desire to leave growing less and less. She thought she actually felt… happy. It was an alien feeling she didn’t remember feeling. She hoped it was here to stay.

Chapter Text

Cuttlefish awoke with a terrible headache. Was he hungover? Maybe he’d died and this was his punishment for pirating anime online. He regretted nothing.

He looked around his surroundings. He was in a dirty, dank cell. There was a consistent trip dropping of water from the ceiling and one side of the cell was covered in moss. The walls looked to be made from a sturdy concrete, with many tallies and scratches on the walls. It was a dungeon through and through.

Slowly the events of the previous day dawned him. He’d been staying with agent Thr- no, wait that had been the other time. He had been looking for his seaweed stew and then… he fell? No he had been tripped! By this Inkling wearing leather… who…? The latch to the door opened suddenly.
“Up ‘n atam Gramps, can’t have ya lying on the floor all day.” He was hoisted to his feet and and a light was shone directly on his face. Callie’s leering face game into focus. She gave him that familiar yet eerily different grin. He cringed away from her as she laughed at him
In a very not Callie-like way. She thrust him forward out of his cell, poking him with a splattershot to get him to keep moving.
“Y’know, they used to keep Octolings in here before they sanitized them in her,” Callie gave him a wicked grin, as if feeding off his discomfort. He shivered, not from cold. He hoped his fate was much kinder than the cells’ previous occupants.

Thinking about that, he decided upon a course of action. Escape. He wasn’t much of a deep thinker. Cuttlefish lunged at her, hoping to catch her at unawares, grabbing the gun and wrestling with the splattershot. To his credit he managed to knock the gun from her hand, The struggle ended rather quickly after that.

Callie clubbed him over the head with a baton. Cuttlefish fell to his knees feeling woozy.
“Try that again and I’ll have no qualms with hurting you, old timer,” Callie hissed in his ear, her humorous tone gone. He managed to nod before she hoisted him to his feet once again.
They continued on their way through the dungeon.

They stopped their march in a large chamber with a high ceiling, a latch at the top. There was a central platform with two bridges leading to both doorways into the chamber, a deep pit surrounding. Circuitry and wiring covered the walls and roof of the chamber, criss crossing into a mess of wires. A glass panel on the front wall displayed a large speaker and beside it was his old foe, DJ Octavio. On the center platform of the room, there were two chairs, one empty one not, with wrist and ankle ties and ones for the torso and abdomen. Cuttlefish sagged as he caught sight of a barely conscious Marie bound to the one closer to the back door of the room.

Ca;;ie sat him down on the empty chair, closing the restraints on him. He didn’t bother resisting. He knew it was futile. Callie grinned, her good humour returning seeing how everything had gone to plan. Octavio launched into a James Bond villain monologue or something in Octarian. Callie sighed impatiently and flipped a switch on the left wall. The circuits and wires above began to hum and glowed a bright pink. Octavio prepped his mixer and started to play.

Cuttlefish shielded his eyes as a bright light filled the room.

A few hours earlier....

Four had no idea how it all had went to shit so fast.

One second they were… uhh talking, the next they were fighting for their lives against a bunch of sanitized Octarians, although their aim was comparable to Stormtroopers. No the real threat was the octopus atop a Squee-G wielding a Rainmaker. Yeah, no biggie.

Four would like to say that he bravely took them down all by himself, that he spat in the face of danger and became the saviour of the moment. Alas it was not to be, for his courage failed him. Almost two seconds into the fight. He threw a piece of debris. At least he tried. Sorta.

Left with no other options, he dived out of the way of the onslaught as the slightly crazed DJ Octavio fired a cluster of shots at him.
“Quick! Get inside!” Pearl yelled at him, arms gesturing frantically at him as she retreated into the doorway of the mansion. Really some people had no patience. Three was busy returning fire using an Octoshot she’d grabbed from a fallen Octoling, a victim of Octavio’s overzealous firing. Blasts of golden light filled the air of the garden as the exquisit yet destructive weapon rained down fury upon them She darted into the house to avoid a spray from an Octotrooper, dragging Four along with her. She could hear the roar of the Octocommander’s Splatling as it fired upon the wall. They didn’t have much time. Pearl took charge, sprinting in front as Three and Four followed her lead. They ran across the main hall like Inklings during a clothing sale.

They darted into the library as the front wall begun to collapse from the punishment it was taking. It crumpled like paper under the might of the Rainmaker.
“Don’t they know not to make any noise in a library?!” Four laughed as her ran after the pair.
“How could you be making jokes at a time like this?” Three hissed.
“It’s like what they say, if you don’t laugh, you cry.”
A crash signified the wall’s downfall. The three Inklings took cover behind the bookshelves of the library as a bombardment of shots rained down upon their position. The Ink splashed against their barricade of literature.
“I paid good money for these,” Pearl muttered.
Three blind fired around the corner, slipping her hand and her gun around the corner without exposing herself to damage. Four and Pearl, having no weapons, just kept their heads down. Three knocked down one, two, three Octos but no matter how many she took down, others rushed to take their place, Three ran out of Ink, cursing. Things weren’t looking good for them. Pinned down, outnumbered and outgunned.

Suddenly, the assault ceased. They heard loud shuffling and then nothing. An eerie silence on the battlefield-turned library. Three gazed cautiously around the corner only to see Octavio’s forces retreating. Four and Pearly gazed around. They watched, puzzled as the Octos hefted up Pearl’s premium speakers. Before they could react, they disappeared out of sight.
“Aww… ain’t that cute. They just wanted a lil’ music. How quaint.”
“Shut up Four,” They both told him. Rude Pearl and Three exchanged glances. What was the DJ planning? Their looks said.

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Marina watched the fight in horrified fascination as she watched her best friends house crumble on live footage from a security camera. Her fists clenched. She could send Eight but she knew she wouldn’t make it in time. As Octavio sounded a retreat, she frowned. Why had he given up when he had the upper hand? Unless… he had got what he needed. Unless he had completed his objective.
She tracked their movements to a sewer grate where the slipped in, vanishing into the darkness. She made note of where it was,quite a distance away from anything, rushing into the other room to wake Eight.

Eight spent her time not fighting or scouring around looking for the kidnappees sleeping. The work drained her and sapped her strength but she was determined to find them. A positive to being absolutely exhausted when she hit the sack were no dreams. No 8-balls or targets or rails or jets. Just rest. Marina hated to wake her like this but she didn’t have a choice. But how was she going to make it in time?

A few minutes later…

Eight was rushing through the sewer pipes at breakneck speeds, approaching Marina’s coordinates. Meanwhile Marina was trying to find any devices down there she could hack to see what was going on. Eight was equipped with a green CCN, Ink that shouldn’t be able to harm anyone besides enemies. She was wielding her signature Octoshot fit with a splashdown and Inkjet specials and a couple of seeker subs. She’d also brought a set of experimental dualies Marina had lent her. She was clad in her leather get-up (YES including the high heels) with the golden pin in her tenta-locks. She was ready to face this.

Present time

Eight burst through the latch at the top of the chamber, landing in a combat-ready stance herr weapon raised. Everyone gazed at her in astonishment…
Then they started firing...
In hindsight, maybe this wasn’t the best plan, she thought, dodging blast after blast.
Weighing up her options and making a decision, she sprinted for the other door. Octavio laughed. Suddenly she changed direction, tackling Cuttlefish and bringing him tumbling into the pit alongside her. At the last moment she activated the Inkjet, cushioning their fall.

They landed heavily in a tangle of limbs. Eight scrambled to her feet as Octotroopers gilding with balloons descended down to surround them, pointing their blasters at them. Eight tensed, wondering why they were holding instead of letting the Ink rip. Callie landed in the midst of them. She grinned at them.
“Looky here, the Octoling that’s been causing us so much strife. Time to rectify that,” She cocked her modified Splat Charger. The twist with this was it fired burst bombs along with the spray of Ink. Callie let loose round after round, with Eight trying to draw her fire away from a still dazed Cuttlefish.
“Eight, get out of there NOW!” Marina roared over the sounds of Ink hitting floor. Eight used her Octoshot to paint a path across the wall, diving in and out to avoid Callie’s unrelenting explosive shots.
“Can’t run forever, Octo scum!” Callie laughed crazily. Her shots were getting more accurate by the shot. Eight was getting worried. Callie was turning in a circle, shots raining down on Eight as she struggled to get the upper hand. Callie managed to get a shot straight in front of her. No time to divert. She switched to Octo form, diving into the air. The splash from Callie’s shot however blew her forward. She landed in a sprawl at Callie’s feet. She groaned and tried to get up. Callie picked her up by the scruff of her neck, raising her over her head victoriously, before bringing her down onto the knee in a finishing move. As Eight lost consciousness she felt herself being dragged. Then she knew no more.

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“Shit shit shit shit SHIT!” Marina picked up her laptop and fucked it at at the wall, screaming in rage and despair. She pounded her head against the desk, throwing fists at the walls and screamed skywards. She grabbed a chair from the dining room and smashed her TV with it. Then she threw the chair out the window. She barrelled through the front door crying uncontrollably in a blind fit of rage. She was breathing heavily and tears were streaming down her face. She bundled herself against the wall and let it all out. She hadn’t had one of these since before she met Pearl. She panted, calming herself. OK she needed to think.
She would call for backup, maybe they’d get to Eight before… before… She almost started crying again but steeled herself. Eight needed her. She wouldn’t let her down.

Chapter Text

To be honest, Three rarely used her phone. It was a handy piece of tech, don't get her wrong but she really didn't see the appeal of having a plastic screen glued to your face all day. Not to mention the fact that her contacts list was completely empty other than the Splatoon line. Sad, she knew.

So she was quite surprised when her phone’s ringtone sprang to life while she, Four and the somewhat mellowed popstar walked among the ruins of the front of the mansion. Pearl was being uncharacteristically silent while Four looked like he was almost not going to make a smartass comment. Almost.

“Oh your Nasty Majesty, whatever are we to do?” Four mocked. Pearl just silently flipped him off, as if speaking would make this all seem real.

Three at first ignored the mysterious caller but they were certainly persistent. She walked a bot away from the others. She sighed and picked up, ”Sorry, wrong number,”

“Three…” She frowned at Marina’s voice, “Eight… s-s-she ne-eds help. Please.”

“Marina…? What.. I-I… what do you mean she needs help?”

“S-she found them. T-the Cap’n and the others. But th-they were ready for her. I don't even know if she's alive or…” Marina trailed off, obviously too upset to go on.

“Where is she?” Three demanded brashly.

“You can't go in there alone or you'll end up like Eig-"

“I SAID WHERE IS SHE!!!?” Three yelled loudly, losing her temper.

“Down a sewer grate to the northern side of Inkopolis. But you can't-"

Three hung up the phone.

“Hey Batfish, where you going? Three?”

She ignored Four, purposefully marching north, following Marina’s vague directions.

“Sheeet… we should probably follow her. So she doesn't get herself killed.” Four said to Pearl.

“Who died and made you king, thrower of stones?” She retorted sarcastically. Four crossed his arms in a pout but said nothing. She could have this round.

“Ah, you’re going for the strong and silent type but without the strong?” Four couldn't take her annoying, little comments any longer.

“Nice crown, what are you queen of? Irritation?” Pearl grinned at him.

“Shell yes I am, bow down to me mortal,”

“Shuddup you tentacled clown,”

“Coming from mister receding hairline,”

“Oh you did NOT just make fun of these sexy tenta-locks, especially after the dumpster fire that is your hairstyle,”

“HEY,”

While they were bickering, Three slipped away out of sight. Although she was nervously taking apart and putting her Inkshot back together, she was determined to end this. Nothing but Ink would remain of the blasted Octarians when she was through with them, of that she was certain.

A while of searching around and meandering around the exterior of Inkopolis later and she finally managed to stumble across the sewer grate Marina was talking about. It was roughly the size of an elevator. There was nothing particularly special about it, maybe that was the point. A bit of rust carpeted it giving it an ancient look, like it had been around since before Inkopolis’ foundation. It was a relatively new city, only existing for couple of centuries. She lifted the grate and stared into the abyss, a hungry mouth threatening to swallow her whole. She sighed, quenched all second thoughts and swan dived down in squid form, venturing into the lion’s den.

You know what’s scarier than plummeting down a pitch black hole at speeds faster than comprehension? Doing it as a squid. A scared squid that was already dreading hitting the bottom. The downward tunnel seemed to last forever, a nightmare she seemed unable to welcome. She felt she was… drifting, as if her consciousness was fading away. The darkness seemed to melt all around her and-

Three opened her eyes. She was floating in the center of a large chamber, as if suspended with chains or ropes but she looked upwards and saw nothing but empty ceiling. A platform with three chairs lay in front of her. She watched as an Octarian carried a limp Eight and sat her down in a third chair on the center of the catwalk platform.. Curiously the two other chairs left on the platform were empty. She frowned at them. Where were the other three? Were they okay? Were they still alive? Three couldn’t know for sure.

She wondered how she was seeing this. It didn’t feel like she was actually seeing this and she noticed that she could still see the blackness of the tunnel if she concentrated hard enough. This felt almost like a… a vision, for lack of a better word. It was very strange and Three had never experienced anything like it.

Suddenly she landed in old water and had to clamp a tentacle around her mouth to keep from crying out. She morphed back into humanoid form, her ankles sinking into the watery base. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she could see a pale light at the end of the… cavern?. She couldn’t see enough to know. The water went up to her knees.  She hoped she wasn’t knee-deep in waste and sewer water. Then she’d have to take a shower. Sigh.

She waded through the (water?) and finally reached the pale dim light at the end. She felt around before her hand bumped what felt like a latch in the ceiling. She pushed it open and emerged into a hallway of sorts. It was empty save for a couple of seashells on the floor and a door at the end. The walls were stone, weathered, with moss clinging to it by the cracks. Small scratches and weird symbols were inscribed on the wall.  She headed down the hallway, pushing open the door. The whole place was silent, as if holding its breath, waiting for the unknown.

She entered what looked like a maintenance room, filled with wiring and circuitry. Speakers of various shapes and sizes lined the walls and a zapfish powered it all. She wouldn’t be able to free it silently. She vowed to come back for it.

What the shell is all this and what does Octavio plan to do with it? Forget that, how was she going to find Eight in this underground labyrinth? Let alone stop Octavio and his Coddamn plan of utter world domination, whatever that may be.

Three stopped as she heard scurrying footsteps around the stone corner. She quietly sneaked over and peered round only to see a lone Octotrooper patrolling. Slowly and carefully she crept up behind him. She wasn’t quiet enough and he turned around in alarm as she smacked him over the head with the butt of her gun. He went down like a sack of salmon and she continued on. She encountered several more but dispatched them with ease. An Octarian standing next to a ledge. One push and he was falling to his Inky grave. Another one by an electrical circuit. Three had him shook. One silly Octarian had his blaster around the wrong way and ended up splatting himself. Fool of a cephalopod.

Slowly she took them down one by one, clearing a path through the lair. After a while she stumbled upon the chamber she had saw in her vision thingy. She headed to the platform in the middle of the catwalk. Nobody was there. Where the shell was Eigh-?

A posh Octarian accent interrupted her thoughts. It seemed very sure of itself.

“ Well, well, we meet once more, my old foe. This has been a very long time coming.”

Three turned slowly, facing the triumphant DJ. Three hated to admit that he made quite an imposing figure even outside his mech, what with the samurai gear, dual splatlings held in his tentacles and an evil smirk on his bubbly face. He spoke slowly and deliberately as if he was savouring the moment.

“You may have beaten me once before, Inkling scum, but I assure you, today you shall not be so fortunate you little wretch . Lady luck shines on you no longer You took everything from me. My honour, my respect and ze love of my fellow Octos.  And now, I take everything from you. Poetic, wouldn’t you say?” If Octavio had an evil villain moustache, he most certainly would have been twirling it. Three had to admit, he would’ve made a sound poet.

“But… I will not dignify you with a showdown this time, little squid. Death is far too good for the likes of you. Callie , you may take her!”

Three spun around, ducking Callie’s first strike as she lunged at Three from behind. Three attempted to shoot her with the Hero Shot but Caliie spun and kicked it out of her hands with an elegant roundhouse kick. Now Three never really took to acrobatics, on the few times she engaged to hand to hand combat she liked to adopt a brawler style of fighting. So she was completely unprepared as Callie launched into a cartwheel kick that she barely managed to redirect. Callie’s Octoling gear, while more revealing was certainly more flexible than Three’s Hero suit and cape, lending to her advantage in acrobatics.  Three went on the offense, throwing punches at her until she relented a few steps backwards. Callie managed to catch her fist, twisting it till it was forcing her to her knees. Three snatched up her fallen shooter and Callie let go of her arm to grapple with her for it. Three socked her in the chin, stunning her and knocking her backwards. Three grinned before realising Callie had the gun and rushed at her before she could get a chance to fire.

Three tackled her to the ground, landing on top throwing punches at her. Callie moved her head from side to side, Three’s fists only clipping her ears before Callie headbutted her. Three fell of her with a grunt, scrambling up to meet her next attack. Callie leapt to her feet, flipping at her in a frenzy. Three sidestepped, spinning her foot in an arc. Callie launched herself backwards to avoid spartan kicking her. The force of it knocked Callie to the edge. Her eyes widened in fear as she wobbled and fell. Three dove forward grasping her hand as she fell. Callie eyes seemed to focus more on her, her pupils diluting. Three pulled her up warily, gun now in hand. Callie allowed herself to be hoisted up, sitting up on the platform.

“I-I… wh-where am I?” Her voice was timid and almost scared. She seemed confused and had no idea what was going on. Maybe her near-death experience had shocked her out of the trance. Three reached out to her only for a spout of Ink to splosh in front of her. She turned to see Octavio smiling amusedly.

“Bravo, bravo ladies, quite a display. But, like all things, there can be only one victor in this little game of ours. Only the strongest will survive and all that . Nothing personal my dear, although it clearly is and I’ll miss you, even though I clearly will not.” Octavio finished with a smile. He cocked his guns and opened fire with his dual splatlings. Three shut her eyes, awaiting her demise.

It didn’t come. She slowly opened them, gazing down in astonishment at her torso to see it completely intact. She turned around to Callie to ask what had just happened.

Callie was on her knees, almost  covered in magenta Ink, hand outstretched in a cry for help she could not vocalise. Somehow her gaze managed to convey to Three how sorry she was, her regret of being unable to make everything she had done right. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, as the two Inklings looked at each other. Callie’s look of shock morphed into fear as she heard Octavio refill his Ink tank and cock his splatling for a second bout. Three watched in utter helplessness as Octavio emptied his weapon on her. The wave of Ink smashed into her and yet somehow she barely managed to survive. It was too much for her however as she gasped and tumbled slowly backwards into the abyss. She managed to let out a choked scream before disappearing over the edge.  Three stared at the place she had fallen. She couldn’t believe it. Refused to belief it.

No, she couldn’t be gone, there was no way. The lovable, partying, singer would pop back up the ledge on an Inkjet she’d saved until this moment then they’d whoop this Octopus like old times. Then they’d rescue her sister and her grandfather and Eight and they’d go home and Eight could meet them officially and they could spar together and watch movies and-

“All’s fair in love and war, I suppose.” Octavio laughed cruelly.

Three felt a shocking sensation but she was far beyond caring. She went limp and they dragged her across the room. Her thoughts were occupied.

She should have done something, anything. If she hadn’t been so vainly concerned about her own safety, maybe Callie would be still alive. How could the world be so unfair? She had just been snapped out of whatever thing Octavio had put her under and now she’d never get to see if Dedf1sh ever replied to the text Callie had sent her asking for a date when she was drunk and lonely of if Four and Marie stopped beating around the bush and just admitted their feelings for each other.

Her captors opened a large gate, half dragging half carrying her through the archway of the gate.

When Callie needed her the most, confused and vulnerable, she’d looked after her own safety. Maybe she was the monster of all this. First she’d attacked a lone Octoling just searching for her place in the world, kidnapped her mentor and attacked that same Octoling again. Sure, she’d been under the influence of Commander Tartar but that didn’t excuse the things she’d done in the Metro. She should have fought harder. Same as right now

Octavio was going to pay for everything he’d done, to her, to her friends and to the poor isolated Octoling she’d come to care for. And of course, for Callie. Nothing would stop her from exacting her ultimate vengeance on him. She was going to kill him. Society would shun her for it, her friends would abandon her but it was no more than she deserved. That would be her punishment.

They dragged her into a dungeon cell. It was dark and Three could barely see the corners of the cell. The dumped her in the centre of the dirty, dank little cell. She lay there unmoving, weary of the world and events taking their toll on her.

“Three?” A broken voice spoke out of the gloom.

Three looked up as bright amber eyes came into view from the darkness. The Octoling they belonged to shuffled into view.

Eight.

Chapter Text

Tartar really hadn’t realized how gullible Inklings could be. Especially in the puny Agent Four’s case. Somehow he had managed to convince him that the much stronger Agent Three was just moody and not dashing off to be caught in the trap Octavio had set for her. His presence would upset the plan and they couldn’t have that. Commander Tartar, still had one hand left to play. How they hadn’t noticed the convenience was really beyond her. How would DJ Octavio know where to find speakers for his plan to brainwash all the Inklings of Inkopolis unless he knew someone on the inside. He had led them away during the attack and distracted Four so Three would oh so heroically dash off the save her Octoling fuck buddy all by her lonesome. Quite simple really. Tartar had left a contingency plan, in case his plan failed. A splodge of his essence had entered the Inkling known as Pearl during their shouting match and now she was here to fufill his original purpose. She was completely unaware of him, unconsciously influencing all of her actions. The real Pearl was still here but he was like a bad thought in her head she couldn’t resist. He wasn’t willing to reveal himself yet though, prefering to bide his time. Tartar and Octavio worked together often when under a common goal, even with Octavio supplying him with test subjects for the Metro. But when Octavio fell out of his mission perimeters, to destroy the world as they knew it, then he  would join the Inklings in their fate.

“Where do you think Three is?” Four asked her suddenly. She jumped.

“Don’t do that, creep. She’s probably somewhere quiet, mulling over her decisions…”

“Yeah probably…” Four agreed.

Pearl smiled to herself unconsciously.

He’d keep him there until they were ready. Tartar had certainly come a long way since his telephone days.

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To be honest, Eight was really good at hugging, especially after a good friends death. Everyone has hidden talents. Her’s just happened to be that. What are the odds?

She had tackled Three with a hug so fierce it may have cracked a rib. Three couldn’t resist a smile at her sheer enthusiasm, despite being squeezed half to death.

“I missed you…” Eight whispered honestly. Three pulled her into an embrace, leaning her forehead on hers, pulling her as close as she could. She took a moment to breathe in her scent, a combination of sweat,grime and something that was uniquely Eight and yet it was angelic to Three.

“I missed you too.” She whispered back, trying to convey as much emotion in that single sentence as she could. She noticed how Eight felt in her arms, how perfectly she fit in them as if she belonged in them. They had only known each other a short time and yet Three felt as if she could not go back to her life without her companionship and the ridiculous amount of food she could eat and her silly choice in fashion and her sheer badassery and just her general oblivious. Three had missed Eight, like a drowning man misses the land, like an oblivious man misses the point.

They stayed like that, in each others embrace, reacquainting themselves with the other. Three snuggled into Eight’s neck as she rubbed soothing circles on her back. Somehow she knew just what to do to make her feel better. Three pulled her closer, murmuring softly and tucking her head under Eight’s chin. She sobbed into her shirt, Eight whispering how it would all be okay, doing her best to comfort her. It was oddly close to that time in the square when they had first met. Her an Octoling, friendless and alone, Three a lone Inkling in need of a purpose. What an odd pair they made.

Their quiet moment was interrupted with Octavio’s booming voice as he sauntered into the room. “Well isn’t this lovely, reunited for the grand finale? Enjoy what little time you have left.” He turned to leave but glanced back. “Did you ever wonder where that vision came from in the tunnels?” He pulled out a hefty machine that somewhat resembled a small laptop but antennas covered the top, with circuitry poking in and out of the device. “This controls the part of your brain that dreams, that pictures, your imagination. Perhaps I will show you how it works hmm? Show you the errors of your ways.” The strange device hummed and began to glow with a brilliant blue glow, until it was too bright and the pair were forced to shield their eyes as the light seemed to melt around them...

The familiar sensation of seeing yet not seeing filled Three once more. Her surroundings dimmed and came into focus. She was standing in the Tentakeel Outpost in Octo Canyon. It seemed greyer, colder than she remembered like a black and white movie only a bit less obvious. She spun as she heard footsteps. She watched as an Inkling came down from the arch walking menacingly towards her, Octoling leather and a helmet covering her face. The Inkling fired a spray of Ink at her but before she could dodge, it passed right through her. She turned in astonishment only to see no other than Cap’n Cuttlefish diving out of the way.

This must have been how he was taken she thought, figuring it out, the Inkling must be Callie.

She watched as Callie easily dispatched Cuttlefish, knocking him out with a swift blow to the head. She dragged him into the shack, Three following her. After a couple of seconds, she pulled someone out with a sack over their head out, grabbing them both by the scruff of the neck. The person Three assumed was Marie broke free, blindly sprinting off immediately. Callie lazily stuck her foot out (Again). As Marie fell, the sack was blown off. Three looked in surprise at the face of the popstar, her friend.

Callie.

“Where’re are you off to, cousin? The party’s only starting,” Marie said muffled under the helmet. Three was stunned. “I’ve only got one pair of these so they’ll have to do the trick for now,” She held Callie’s weakened form down, placing the hypno-shades down roughly on her head. Callie’s face went blank. She slowly sat up, with an evil grin slowly stretching her face. Before Three could take in what revelation had been revealed, the scene changed.

The landscape of Inkopolis Square was spread out before only it was far too bright and exaggerated, as if this was a fantasy and not real world events. A crowd of Inklings surrounded a large stage above the lobby where Off the Hook usually performed. Oddly there were no Octolings in sight. DJ Octavio was centre stage, his music playing out of Pearl’s large speakers. They all wore glazed expressions on their faces and were chanting his name over and over, “Octavio! Octavio! Octavio! Octavio!...

It all began to fade away as the room came back into focus. Eight was looking worriedly at her and Octavio was still grinning that awful grin. She got the impression that had taken less than a second. The door to the cell swung open with a loud CLANG! Marie walked into the room, completely passive looking. Three looked at her and slowly a burning, fiery anger emerged from deep within her. She lunged but Octavio batted her aside like a beach ball. Marie giggle. “Surprised to see me? Well in a few moments you’ll be suprised to see anyone, what with no memories left but don’t worry, sanitization only takes a moment.” Eight gazed at her in terror, her eyes widening but Three fought to keep her expression neutral. “ You may be thinking that to brainwash me I needed a feeling deep down that Octavio could bring to the surface. I always hated stardom. So many people thinking they can just nose in on your personal life. Harassment, hate, telling me I wasn't as talented or as nice as Callie. I always resented her for that. She got what she deserved. Your kind, Octoling scum, don’t deserve a city as great as ours and soon, they’ll alll realise it.” Three cracked, failing to keep her expression neutral and glaring so hard at her she felt like her face would pop.

“Hold on to these last moments, for soon you'll remember nothing and be my pawn.” Octavio laughed. She felt a shocking sensation like a taser and felt herself go limp. She watched as Eight howled and stood over Three to defend her. It was a gallant effort but in the end amounted to nothing. Octotroopers dragged them into the maintenance room, now with a seat wired up like an electric chair. They tied Three to it and forced Eight on top of her, binding them together. Octavio put in one last Bond villain remark.

“This is gonna hurt, a lot,” He grinned and flipped a few switches.

The last thing the two saw before unmeasurable agony were Marie’s victorious smile and Octavio’s cutting laugh.

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Cuttlefish came to in the same cell as before, you know, the murky dank cell he had loved so much? Yeah that one, with only one difference. The cell door was wide open.

This felt like a setup. But then again, what did they have to gain from letting out of his cell? He couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was a cruel prank? But Octavio was known for not doing anything without what he deemed a proper cause. So what gives?... Well he was already in the belly of the beast, what harm could a little exploring do?

He took a couple of steps out of the cell, picking up the pace until he he came to a crossroads in the stone tunnel and realized he had no idea where to go. All four paths looked the exact same, even the one he had just come through. He turned right on a whim, heading down the corridor until he came to a door. He opened it cautiously, peering inside. It was the same cell he had woken up in, right down to the texture and moss coating the walls. But that was surely impossible! He backtracked down the corridor only to find it had seemed to… lengthen? It went on and on, stretching far further than it had just a few minutes ago with no sign of any crossroads. He turned around only to see a dead end from where he had come. What the shell was going on here? What sorcery was this?

He broke into a run down the only route he could take. The mossy stone walls slowly transferred to messy, cobbled-together, wooden ones. The roof stopped to reveal an open sky. But weren’t they underground? Suddenly he found himself in a trench overlooking an Octarian settlement. The sea was dangerously close to rear of the place and it faced a dense forest. Ah, he remembered this place, it had been the setting of one of the first battles of the Great Turf War, the battle of Oyster Hill, now called Oyster City. The Inklings had ambushed the place and taken it over. He had led the operation himself.

The world seemed to spin, aligning itself at a particular location in the settlement, a firing range. It made Cuttlefish dizzy and he pressed himself against the wall. Slowly it dawned on him the importance of the location. This had been one of their first targets in the attack, where they had begun the assault.

Two Octarians stood practising shooting. They were both in humanoid form.  One looked young and had a frizzy afro while the other looked a little older and had a slick tentacle mohawk. The eldest was shooting squid-shaped targets while the youngest leant against the wall with their arms crossed. The youngest whined to the eldest, clearly complaining about something. Cuttlefish strained to hear.

“Do I have to fight? You’ve known all I’ve wanted since I was little was to play music as a lifestyle, Augustus”

“This fight doesn’t just concern some of us, little brother. It concerns all us Octo’s. The Inklings think they can just take our land for themselves. Spit on that, I say. They can’t just come here and take our lands. We won’t let them. Come brother, there’ll be plenty time for playing piano after training.” Augustus grabbed him by the hand to place the Octoshot in it. He wrenched his hand away,

“I don’t want to play the piano! I want to be a DJ and you’d know that if you’d just play with me at least once. We never hang out anymore, only train. Please just listen to the music I’ve made, I spent all week on them, poured my heart into them. You’re the only one who shows an interest. Mother and Father just look on with disappointment and Cassandra just tells me to fu=” The younger Octarian pleaded, his eyes watery.

“Language! I’m sorry Octavio, it’s just that I’m too busy, those scum could attack at any moment, I have to be prepared. I promise I’ll try to find time for your music. Go practice some more, it better be some performance or I’ll be disappointed.” He smiled reassuringly, patting him on the shoulder and fired a charger, hitting the squid target dead center.

The young Octavio gave up and headed towards the door. Cuttlefish almost shut his eyes so as not to see what came next but he already knew. He had lived it. He watched with dread as Augustus turned as a Charger laser appeared on his chest. His eyes widened but before he could react, it was already too late. Cuttlefish watched himself squeeze the trigger that would birth the DJ and all of his cruelty. The scene dissolved in a cloud of Ink, taking the rest of the surroundings with it.

Cuttlefish’s life seemed to flash before his eyes. Being hatched, shipped off to a fancy boarding school, Squidward’s School for Skilled Squids, being made fun for being the only cuttlefish in a crowd of squids. They had just called him Cuttlefish and it had kinda stuck. Joining the 1st Squidbeak Splatoon, the Great Turf War, founding the second Splatoon. The Zapfish being kidnapped and of course, the deep dark metro of trials and tribulation. And suddenly the memories weren’t his but someone else’s. A dream of the future, shattered hopes and broken promises with the burst of a Charger, a fierce, dark, burning rage like no other, thoughts of brutal vengeance,joining the cause of his brother to honour him,  getting excommunicated from the Octarian military on the grounds of being too overzealous, vowing to find justice, to make the one responsible pay with the rest of their kind. A single minded determination to vengeance that overruled everything and caused all his horrific acts. Cuttlefish inhaled sharply as thoughts that were not his invaded his mind. Twin voices, one a scared boy, the other the voice of the DJ.

Finally, they said , I have done it. For my brother, my ultimate revenge to make you suffer. Not death, that would be far too quick. Not torture either, you’ve probably become accustomed to it over the years, old man. No, it would be far crueler to destroy the species you hold the most dear as you are one of the last of a dying breed yourself and have no people. And the best part is , they whispered , that you will destroy them yourself. This little part of me in your head, it’ll make sure of that. That Old man, is my curse upon you. To watch helpless, as I was, as all you love is destroyed. And when you feel the cold grips of despaiR… I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER THE ONE MAN WHO BEAT YOU, CAP’N CUTTLEFISH! WHO BROUGHT YOU DOWN!

Cuttlefish clamped his hands over his ears in pain as the voices grew excruciatingly loud . They seemed to echo around the room in waves .

“WHEN YOU ARE ON YOUR KNEES, BROKEN, REMEMBER THAT YOU…  ARE… TO… BLAME, FOR ALL OF THIS. EVERY LITTLE THING I HAVE DONE HAS BEEN FOR THIS MOMENT! They quited for a moment.

I don’t expect to survive this but what do I have to live for? You took away the one person who gave even a little bit of a damn and for that there shall be no forgiveness. Goodbye.”

Cuttlefish suddenly saw a horde of octopus descending upon him. Not just a horde of octopus. A horde of many Octavios. Like zombies they piled themselves ont op of each other mindlessly, relentlessly pursuing without a thought of the safety of themselves or each other. Cuttlefish fled down the corridor that had appeared in the wall. He was terrified. as the horde of zombie-Octo gave chase. The corridor seemed to get thinner and thinner as claustrophobia began to kick in. He squeezed through fearfully and emerged onto a walkway in an open chamber. A familiar pair of Inklings stood at the end fighting. One of the kicked the other off the edge but caught her just as she fell, hoisting her up. Suddenly there was a Splatling in his hand and he was gunning Callie down as Three looked in horror at him. She tumbled off the walkway as she reached for him, Three soon following as his barrage didn’t stop. He dropped to his knees, dropping the gun. His hands were covered in Ink, their lifeblood. He pulled his knees up to his face and weeped.

He felt something slither around him, like shadowy tentacles.

He didn’t care anymore, they could do what they wanted with him, he had just mowed down his granddaughter and the Inkling who had been his constant companion through all of this. He deserved all the pain in the world. He let the thing take him willingly.

Chapter Text

A beautiful, elegant, blue butterfly, one of the last of its breed, flew overhead in a leisurely  and lazy fashion. Azure would be its name, given to it by a kind soul that it had not met yet. It was unconcerned with the worlds of squids and Octos and the extinct humans. It was content with the sky and the open air, which let to its current predicament. It was trapped in this cephalopod’s underground nest and it was unable to find an adequate way to the surface. It had flown around the place time and time again for days to scout an exit but had found the search fruitless. It had given up hope on escaping its fate and resigned itself for one final flight before dying of starvation. It roamed the corridors, being careful to keep out of sight of the sometimes bloodthirsty Octarians that occupied the place. Often they had caught him flying above them and played a cruel game with it. They blanketed the walls and floor with their “Ink” so he’d be unable to land and would be forced to stay in the air indefinitely. No easy feat even for ones as elegant as butterflies. Yet it persevered and found a ledge to rest on that they could not find. They gave up on their cruel games and forgot about it but it was always wary of them.

Azure had been alone for a very long time. It once had a mate, offsprings, a colony of its own that it felt at home with. All snatched away by the passing of time and the humans’ “March of Progress”. Them and their machinery. Azure did not mourn them now that they had died out. It took joy from it. It did not call that “Vengeance”, it called that “Justice” and was content with that. It hoped the species that dominated the surface now would not follow the fate of the humans, drowning under rising tides. It often felt lonely but regardless, life carried on and he did too. He was a lone wol- err butterfly. It had been like that for hundreds of years and would continue for hundreds more, if only he could escape this accidental prison. For you see, it was an Elder Butterfly and lived forever, if not directly killed. It had witnessed the rise and fall of the humans, of empires crumbling and disasters strike. In all that time, Azure had lived through it all and one not be retired by a cave and a couple of troublesome cephalopods.

A bright light flashed in a nearby room and the butterfly glanced curiously, flying over to investigate the disturbance. Two figures lay strapped together on a metal structure that looked like it was for something seating, held down by metal bonds. It sympathised with their fate, trapped without a hope of escape. They twitched and screamed as if in great pain and struggled against their bonds. It admired their determination, however futile. The one with magenta hair looked at it strangely despite their current position. Their eyes held no cruelty or sadism, they had no desire to hurt but were only gently curious and gazing in wonder as if they had never seen one of its kind prior. They reached out and it felt drawn to her. They seemed gentle and was gazing at it like it was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. Azure settled on her hand and felt strangely at peace. They were trapped just like it was. Maybe they could help each other.

The light spilled over them as they shook in a fit of agony. Their bodies convulsed as they were racked with hot knives of torture. The outside world seemed to disappear, there was nothing but the slowly prevailing hypnotic beats and the pain, so much pain . Time seemed to stretch into eternity, with no beginning or end only an eternal parenthesis. Three could feel every good memory, every pleasant feeling fade until there was only anger, anger and fear. The sound of an elegant piece of music, the feel of the wind on her face, the touch of another’s hand in her’s. She let out a gut wrenching wild scream of pure agony, thrashing violently in her bonds as she was blinded through suffering. All her senses had gone dark, leaving only the pain. She heard nothing, saw nothing. Only felt the otherworldly pain and the smell of burnt flesh. It seemed every time her body adapted to it, it increased in power. Three could feel the depths of her identity being stripped away like the plastic of a scratch card for the Inkopolis Premium Lotto. All those experiences, all those memories just washing away like the low tide. Every fabric of her being was being dragged kicking and screaming from her as memories, thoughts and commands that weren’t hers were being installed into her mind.

She struggled and resisted for a time, screaming and thrashing, calling for help. Octavio and Marie had long since left the room and it was only her and the Octoling… what was their name ? Who were they again? What was her name ?

She was filled with horror as she found she couldn’t remember before a fresh wave of pain cut her thoughts off. She felt the Octoling thrashing against her, shifting her position so she faced outwards. What was their plan? She thought before the pain overcame her and it all went black.

To Eight, the pain seemed familiar. Of course it would as she had experienced this exact thing when she was caught deserting, even if she didn’t remember it. That didn’t stop it from being any less agonising as she struggled, screaming and crying. This wasn’t fair. She had escaped him, to lead her own life the way she wanted to. To discover all the wondrous things the world had to offer her. She’d barely scratched the surface. And now she was doomed to live out the rest of her existence as his pawn once again.

NO!

She refused to give in to this, to let him win. She would die before becoming a drone for him. She would fight with everything she had, no matter what.

She felt her very soul being dragged away but she resisted, with gritted teeth and three hearts burning with a fiery passion. She would fight to the bitter end, would not succumb to this. Her entire life had been stolen from her by this and just as she had escape it, she had been snatched by its claws and dragged her back. She fought to hold back a scream as the pain’s intensity upped. She was beginning to feel dizzy from her resistance but still she fought on, unrelenting.

Suddenly the pain dulled into a minor headache. She raised her head. Eight saw it floating among the rafters. Her hand was outstretched to it as she felt naturally drawn to it, like a beacon of light in a realm of darkness. It glided from beam to beam like it had all the time in the world. It darted gracefully between them, flipping and spinning stylishly. Eight got the feeling it was aware of her and was showing off to her. She smiled. The pain felt faraway, dreamlike. As if it was happening to someone else. Eight didn’t know what to call the beautiful blue thing that was gazing down her. It was tiny with fluttering wings and didn’t look harmful in the slightest. It glided down slowly to rest on her outstretched hand. She was limited by the bonds but could just about expand her arm so it could sit. They made eye contact and a sort of mutual communication happened. It struck her that maybe it could guide help to them but she dismissed it as silly. There was no way something so small had the intelligence to do that. It was probably was just curious and had been disturbed by herself and Three’s screaming. It flew away almost purposefully.

Eight had the weirdest feeling that it had somehow read her thoughts, as impossible and strange as that sounded. She had felt a gentle probing in her mind, very unlike the violent attacks of Octavio’s music. It wasn’t invading, just politely entering. She hoped that it was true and that the little blue thing could help her and Three in some way. They were out of options.

As it departed, the pain forced its pain back in. Eight grimaced and began to cry softly as the agony returned tenfold. She struggled but, despite her best efforts, she moaned desperately.

“HELP…”

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Marina was gasping as she arrived outside of Pearl’s mansion. She sprinted across the final stretch of the driveway. She was out of breath as she had run all the way from her apartment as fast as she could. The mansion was almost as far away from her apartment as it could be, in the opposite side of the city. Traffic was a killer. She hunched over taking great lungfuls of air. Breaths in and out, in and out, in and out. Slowly her blood pressure began to level out and return to normal. Her breath slowed and she sat up. She raised her head and searched around the place. The front of the mansion was in ruins, with only a couple of pillars left standing. It was almost completely carpeted with the pink Ink of the Octos. They weren’t going to be having another concert here anytime soon. until she found two figures standing apart. Pearl was fiddling idly with an ancient looking lyre, clearly restless.. Four had grown tired of arguing with her and had sauntered off to go on his shellphone. It looked like they had raided Pearl’s armory in the mansion as Pearl was resting against a Hydra Splatling that was bigger than her. Four had settled on an Undercover Brella with a see-through canopy and rapid fire. Typical.

Pearl jumped up in excitement when she caught sight of her.

“REENA! So glad you’re here, we were just in a shootout! It was AWESOME! Four threw a stone, didn’t you Four. Yes, it was all very exciting. You really should have seen it.”

Marina smiled shyly despite herself. She frowned worriedly.

“Where’s Agent Three? My scanners said she was with you.” Pearl glanced at her with a sly expression, “Not going to even ask what those “scanners” are or where they are. Three went off to have a tantrum, nothing new here.”

Marina gave her an unconvinced look. “We spoke on the communicator. She was hell bent on doing something stupid, that being going after Eight alone. We need to go down there after her before it’s too late.” Marina gestured to Four in a “come here” sign. She turned and sauntered in the direction of the manhole, her mind made up. She’d brought another pair of dualies with her. She meant business.

“WAIT! Marina… MARINA,” Pearl yelled. “Oh coddamnit Octo, why’d you gotta test me like this?” She rushed after her girlfriend. Four sighed, running swiftly to catch up with them.

Damn it, this wasn’t the plan. He wasn’t ready to reveal himself yet. His plan was more essential than Octavio’s. He would have to help apprehend him if he didn’t want to blow his cover. No matter, the fools would never see it coming when he revealed himself. H would strike quickly and without warning. Their world would end, one way or another. Tartar would insure that if it was the last thing his program did.

Pearl caught up to her pretty quickly. For someone so short, she was remarkably fast. They kept apace with each other as Four trailed along behind.

“So… what’s the plan her?” Pearl panted heavily

“To splat some Octos and rescue our friends,” Marina replied steely with a grim look of determination. She had no time for doubt.

“WHAT! That’s your plan? To just rush in there like headless fish and gun everyone down? Are you nuts?” Pearl uttered incredulously.

Marina didn’t respond. That actually had been her plan.

“You call that a plan? I call that suicide. There’s easier ways to die, you know.”

Marina gritted her teeth. She knew that Pearl was right but didn’t want to admit it. She ran harder, with Pearl struggling to keep up. She couldn’t outrun her problems however.

“Our friends need us. The longer we wait, the more time they have to be torture or killed or… worse,” Marina cried out in frustration, coming to a halting stop. Pearl wrapped her in a soft hug.

“It won’t help anyone if we get ourselves killed,” She said softly. “How about… we cause a distraction. Sneak in a different entrance, rescue our friends and get the shell out of there. How does that sound, huh?” Marina smiled softly, reassured and nodded her head. She felt better now they had a plan of action.

“Funny how I’m being the sensible one while you’re the one being irrational,” Pearl grinned until Marina pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Four finally caught up, heaving in breaths.

“Man, for people who do nothing but talk about the news all day, you sure are fas- oh.. Umm… Ima gonna go over here,” He wandered over to the left as he saw them in liplock.

Awkward.

Four’s reaction that he was going to be the distraction was not what Marina was expecting. She thought he’d cry and plead to spare him from this suicide mission. Instead he seemed optimistic. Okay he seemed downright hyped to play his part. She admire him a little bit for not being worried about this extremely dangerous thing they were about to do. Pearl armed him with a massive Dynamo Roller and a Bomb Launcher. He immediately activated his special upon receiving it, chucking a barrage of bombs down the manhole. There were a few muffled Octarian screams of some unlucky souls who had been unfortunate to be stationed there. He dived in, whooping with glee. The two Off the Hook members glanced at each other. They burst into laughter at Fours ridiculous antics and attitude.

“What does Marie see in him,” Pearl joked, chortling once more.

“Ha… Okay, time to go, he’s bought us time.”

The lair was ranked at a solid number 21* on Marina’s Top 10 Villain lairs. It was dirt and dank but with just enough eerie noises to be creepy. Water dropped from the ceiling of the back tunnel they were sneaking through.They heard a noise from up ahead. Pearl peaked around the corner with her Tenta Brella as Marina unsheathed her Tetra Dualies. It was empty save for a bright blue butterfly fluttering in the center. They oddly had the urge to follow it. The butterfly flew off hastily so they hurried to follow it, careful to keep it in their line of sight.

Four was having a blast. Quite literally. He twirled his Dynamo Roller, sending splashes of Ink at the waves of Octotroopers that stood in his way. One vertical shot to a Octo sniper and a sweeping smack to the face of an Octotrooper that had got too close. He blocked inkcoming fire with his bulky roller, tossing a Splat Bomb at them for their efforts. They really were a sorry sight, what with their Stormtrooper aim and them clearly outnumbering him and yet still getting their asses kicked by one lone Inkling. It was quite embarrassing for them really. Getting shown up by Four, the Thrower-of-Rocks himself. Way to go out in the worst way possible.

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They were on their last legs. Three was slumped over, barely conscious and Eight was barely holding onto her memories. Eight was lasting longer probably because she knew what awaited and was more for it. She couldn’t go through that again. She couldn’t. Just as she collapsed, the door was kicked open with force. Pearl and Marina sweeped the room, searching for threats. They spotted the two captives.

“Shit, there they are! Quick, unhook them!” Pearl exclaimed.

Marina wrenched the wiring from the chair as Pearl shut off the main power generator. The lights in the room went out for a moment before reactivating as the emergence power kicked in. The emergency lights had a red glow to them, making the room appear dim and creepy.

They untied a dazed Eight before looking around confusedly.

“Uhh… where the shell did Three go?” Pearl looked around puzzled. She had been their a moment ago…

Suddenly, out of the shadows, Three lunged, snarling at Pearl. Her face was twisted into a violent expression. She was on her before she had a chance to react, ripping the Brella from her grasp and tossing her aside like a ragdoll. Marina had enough sense to point her Dualies at the approaching Inkling but before she could fire, she dived at her. Marina dodged, raising her guns but Three kicked her gun out of her hands and tossing her at Pearl, who had just got up. They both went down in a sprawl. Eight tackled her to the ground, pinning her under Eight’s weight.

Three started spouting Octarian at her. Eight looked astonishedly. She hadn’t be able to speak that before. Her language was extremely primal and basic.

“Spl-attack…” Strangely enough she wasn’t making any threatening moves towards Eight, only looking at the dazed members of Off the Hook with murder in her eyes. It broke Eight’s heart to see her like this.

Eight lay on top of her. She raised Three’s head, looking her directly in the eyes, brushing her cheeks tenderly, sweeping the tenta-locks from her face. She needed to get through to her somehow. To awaken her from this daze. She tilted her chin up with her index finger before pressing her lips against hers in a tender kiss. She was surprised to find Three was kissing her back. Their lips joined in what could only be described as a passionate need for the other. As a poet, Eight would describe the feeling as when you walked into a surprise party for you and while you were shocked it was happening, it felt like you were coming home to a place you didn’t know you wanted or needed. It wasn’t quite fireworks but it was something.

Three pulled away, looking reluctant. Her pupils dilated and returned to normal. She looked around, as if she didn’t know who or where she was. Eight reached out to her as of to guide her memory but Suddenly her snarl returned as her gaze drifted to Off the Hook once again. Pearl and Marina raised their weapons. They both had one each of Marina’s set of Dualies.

“NO! Don’t shoot!” Eight cried, standing between them and the vicious Inkling. Three calculated the odds. She seemed to not like her chances as she dove towards the doorway. They fired bouts of Ink at her as Eight snatched up Pearl’s Tenta Brella to shield her. Three escaped through the doorway and disappeared from sight. Pearl cursed loudly.

“Damnit. Why’d you let her get way?!” Pearl barked at Eight harshly. Eight undid the Brella, tossing it to her. She stalked off in a huff. Marina looked at her judgmentally.

“I wasn’t just going to let you kill her!” Eight snapped at her. Marina was taken aback by her aggression. She had never seen Eight angry before. “Have you never seen a zombie movie? Usually they’re gone for good. I’m sorry Eight. We’re gonna have to take her down if she attacks again. If it’s her or me and Pearl, I choose us,” Eight ignored her, choosing to voice her plan she’d just come up with.

“You guys go find Cuttlefish, I’m gonna go track down Octavio. He has to be the priority. Don’t look at me like that, just do it,” Eight ordered, sighing with a heavy heart. “ Three will have to wait. We can’t afford to let him get away again. We need to bring him in.” Marina agreed, heading off to get Pearl from her place in the corner with her arms crossed and a pout on her face. Eight collected her Octoshot from a shelf in the back of the room. It sure felt good back her fingers, where it belonged.

Eight ventured up the maintenance ladder Octavio had climbed when he was leaving. She emerged into a room that was bare save for an elevator shaft in the center. The shaft stretched upwards to, what looked like the surface. The elevator was like a cage, made up of several bars so Eight could see Octavio and Marie clearly.  The elevator car was halfway up the shaft and rising. Marie spotted her at the bottom and laughed excitably. She dropped a curling bomb down the shaft, sliding down the wall to make an upwards path of Octo Ink on the wall. They seemed to forget that she was an Octoling and could swim up Octo ink. She submerged and began the long swim up just as the curling bomb detonated, narrowly missing her. She reached the car in no time, grabbing onto the bottom.

Suddenly, Marie’s grinning face appeared over the side.

“You again. You know, when someone lays out a perfectly good death trap for you, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY DIE!” She screeched at her, prizing her fingers off the car one by one. Eight struggled to hold on but it was no use. She plummeted to the sound of Marie’s laughter. This is it, she thought miserably , Never thought I’d go out like this though.

Suddenly an arm appeared out of the the Ink on the shaft to grab her. She was dangling by the mysterious arm. It swung her up into the Ink and Three’s head popped out of the Ink to smile at her. Some of her old self seemed to return, although something about her seemed inhuman- err inInkling. Her new friend, the blue butterfly was hovering beside her. It must have let Three here.  And somehow she was swimming in Octo Ink?Nevermind that, they needed to stop Octavio before it was too late.

They both swum up, leaping onto the elevator car in synchronization. Marie sighed in frustration, pulling out the explosive Charger Callie had been using. Before she had a chance to fire, Three rushed at her, snarling loudly. Eight charged the DJ himself. The elevator was roughly the size of a goal box in soccer. Three sidestepped to avoid Marie’s opening shot before grabbing the end of the gun and pulling her off balance. She kicked out her knees and batted her over the head with the charger. And again. And again. And again. Marie held out her hands weakly. Three grasped it and pulled her to her feet only to sock her in the stomach with the Charger. Marie groaned loudly and fell to her knees, her face swollen and bruised, welling up with Ink. But Three wasn't done. She grabbed her, smashing her head against the bars a couple of times. She dropped her at the edge and kicked her a couple times. Marie lay gasping for breath, Ink stains everywhere as Ink flowed freely from multiple wounds on her face, neck and torso. Three picked her up before flinging her hard into the wall of the shaft. She collided with it face on and dragged down the shaft. She slowly gained speed and landed with a crunch at the shaft bottom.

Three just stood there with a vicious smile.  She turned only to be backhanded by Octavio. She managed to submerge into the ink stained shaft wall before she hit the bottom. She swum up quickly.

Eight ducked a swipe from Octavio with his tentacle and hopped over another as she struggled to gain the advantage in the cramped elevator. He somehow managed to batt away any Ink she fired at him and knocked the gun from her hand as if it was a toy. A tentacle snake around her ankles and suddenly she was being hoisted into the air. He swung her into the wall a couple of times, like a ragdoll. He ended it by throwing her threw the glass roof. Shards of glass sprayed everywhere, slicing both of them. He pinned her to the ground and raised his tentacle to finish her… and lowered again. He released her.

Eight was paralysed with surprise and confusion. Suddenly he morphed into and somewhat elderly Octoling, about 60. He had a beard not unlike Cap’n Cuttlefish’s, only his was black with streaks of grey. He had a large afro and was wearing a samurai helmet over it. He sighed.

“Wha- what am I doing? Attacking my own kind, brainwashing them and for what? To destroy an entire species just to avenge my brother.” He paused for a moment, “Oh what a fool I’ve been, to myself and to you, my dear child. You were so innocent and blameless and yet... I put you through all that suffering. All for a silly little revenge plot. And now, it took one of my people to stand up to me for me to realize that. I’m sure I’ll suffer the cold waters of the Shellhole.

But there is still time to stop it. Your friend, Cap’n Cuttlefish. I infected him with my essence, allowing a version of me to take control of his limbs. This was my revenge you see, I would see the cephalopod that send me down this dark road destroy the city he holds so dearly and I would rejoice. Go, you must stop it before it is too late. The plan is is motion and you do not have much time. I am truly sorry, for everything. I was wrong, I see that now. I don’t ask for your forgiveness, only that you don’t follow the route I took. Be better. Prove to them all of what our kind can be. Give other Octos an image to aspire to and Inklings evidence to prove that unity between us is possible. Repent for my sin. One other thing. Your friend, Agent Three. She is part of the plan to discredit you two so you couldn’t stand in our way. She’s been programmed to kill m- ”

He gasped as a large shard of glass pierced his chest from behind. He gaped at it, unable to believe what he was seeing. The pink Ink stained shard slowly slid back through his back. He grunted and fell to his knees. He clawed desperately at the wound, as if trying to stem the flow of Ink. Eight’s eyes widened as her… enemy? Mentor? Slid to the ground.

Three stepped out behind him, with a cold calculated expression. No sorrow, no joy, just completely stoic and emotionless. It chilled Eight to the the core. Three raised her hand. Eight rushed forward in a desperate sprint as Three brought it down. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as the shard loomed. Octavio’s eyes closed in silent acceptance. The shard impaled him from his side-temple. It went all the way through, piercing his skull and driving through his brain and out the other side, before being pulled all the way out. Ink sprayed all over Three’s face as his lifeblood gaped out of the hole, leaking out of him. It pooled on the floor around him as he collapsed in a heap at Eight’s feet.

Eight dropped to the ground, lifting his bloody head up and cradling it in her arms. Her arms were covered with his blood but she didn’t care. Somehow he managed to have enough strength to give her one final wink before he sagged and was no more. Despite everything he had done, he was the only parental figure she’d ever had. She had been ripped away from her true parents at birth and had never known them, nor had she known her brothers and sisters. All because of him. Yet still she mourned for him. She raised her head skywards and screamed . Tears ran like rainfall down her face.

Three was panting heavily, her eyes wide, the still-dripping shard in her hands. Eight slowly turned to her as the sniffling stopped. She slowly reached for her Octoshot and before she could even begin to think about what she was doing, the gun was in her hands and raised. She was shouting uncontrollably

“Give me...” She said with a calm. Not a calm that indicated level headedness, no, this was a calm before the store, the kind where you were winding up for a loud vocal blow. “One good reason… WHY I SHOULDN’T KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND, INKLING!” She exploded, “Ever since we arrived here, the surface has given us jack shit! Nothing but pain, misery and death! So give me one reason why the Octolings shouldn’t just stage a mass genocide for you and ALL OF YOU KIND!” Eight’s screams echoed around the shaft.

Three looked at her. Her eyes dilated. She spoke softly, barely even a whisper as Eight strained to hear.

“I can’t.”

Chapter Text

She fell and it seemed a lifetime before she hit the bottom. Her body fell slowly, like a delicate flower out of the palm of a gardener. Like a young bird, only this bird didn’t spread her wings and fly. All she did was crumble as she hit the bottom. Four scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest. Somehow she’d remained conscious throughout it all. Marie was stubborn like that. Four gazed at her, a cold kind of calm sweeped him.

“Who..?” He croaked. She looked at him. It broke him to see her so… defeated. The strong woman he loved was broken in his arms. She held up three fingers, grabbing his hand and squeezing. Go get ‘em, the contact seemed to say. She slumped into unconsciousness in his arms.

Pearl and Marina smashed open the hatch. Before, he would have jumped in surprise and made a clever quirk. Now he just felt… empty. He felt like a solar system with only a lone sun to be seen. Vengeance . Suddenly the cold void within him blossomed into a red hot anger beyond anything he could possibly have imagined. It felt like it was consuming his entire being, setting him to one goal.

He placed Marie’s limp body into their arms, turning and strutting in the direction of the shaft. She was going to pay, of that he was certain. They would all pay. Three, Octavio and every Octoling he could get his hands on.

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“I can’t” She couldn’t. She’d known what she was doing, had felt conscious thought run through her to kill him. All she didn’t know was... why? What had compelled her to kill a surrendering enemy? She had reacted by… instinct almost. Like her body had just wanted to do it, it needed to. The thought scared her. She was a murderer, there was no denying it. She deserved to pay the penalty. She crouched onto her knees in a silent invitation for Eight to inflict whatever punishment she wanted . All of the blood on her hands, Callie’s death, Marie’s injury and now Octavio. It was only right she got what she deserved. She heard an Octoshot cock and fire. She closed her eyes. The Ink seemed to be hitting the other side of the elevator car? Eight wasn’t that bad of a shot, was she?

A bout of pain brought her out of her thoughts as she was yanked to her feet by her tenta-locks. She opened her eyes only to see a fist hurtling towards her face. She saw stars and before she knew what was happening, she was being straddled as her assailant through punch after punch at her. She managed to wiggle her head to avoid the brunt of it, the hits only clipping her ears. She felt hands around her neck and she was being lifted into the air by her throat. She struggled to draw in a breath as the air supply to her brain was cut off. She kicked and struggled but it was no use. She could feel her limbs begin to weaken. She struggled on feebly as her vision began to blur. She stopped.

What even was the point of fighting anymore? Her death was imminent and she welcomed it. She would rot in the deepest pits of Shell and she would be happy, with the knowledge that she deserved it.

Then air began to fill her lungs and she was gasping in sweet, sweet oxygen like a smoking addict. She massaged her throat as she felt feeling return to her limps and her vision began to sharpen. Her eyes focused on the struggle of two figures in front of her. Four was batting Eight’s feeble punches, as she began to tire. Four landed a well placed punch to the chin. Eight was launched into the air, shooting off like a rocket. She crashed into the neighbouring wall with a sickening thud. Three picked up Eight’s empty Octoshot. Four turned as she clubbed him over the head with it. She felt that instinct, the one that wanted to hurt, to harm. It wanted to crush him beneath her boots. Three suppressed it. Four knocked the weapon from her hand, throwing a flurry of light punches at her. She stepped out of his range, winding up for a heavy strike. He blocked as she let her army fly. She channeled the power of it into a launch, crashing into him and taking them both to the ground. He was up first, throwing quick jabs and kick. He landed his first and second but she learned his rhythm and countered with a roundhouse kick that sent him spinning. His eyes burned with fiery rage as he charged her. He tackled her and slammed her against the wall, grabbing her by the neck once again. She beat her fists furiously against his arms but it was no use.

The instinct rose up within her. She recognised it now, as the burning pain she had felt during her interrupted sanitization. As her vision faded, she gave into it, letting it take control of her.

Three snarled animalistically. She kicked out his back-knee, delivering a swift kick to the groin. He howled in pain and fury, wrapping her in a crushing bear hug. She sent her elbows into his face repeatedly. He held on stubbornly. She pushed off the wall with her feet, propelling them into the opposite wall. Four was flattened against the wall in a brutal slam. She brought her knee down on his face as he staggered back. His lip burst as she drew it back for another hit. He held up his hands to protect himself. That only served to infuriate her even more. She fell upon him, punching him squarely in the jaw with a mean right hook. She slapped his head to the side to angle his chin for a jaw-wrenching uppercut.  She brought both fists down on his gut and he groaned loudly. She pulled him to his feet, before rocking his head with a punch that spun him. His vision tunneled and he collapsed to his knees. But still he held his fists up. She raised her fist to finish him. She pulled it backward as she winded for the final hit.

Eight’s hand caught her wrist midway. She stared her down.

“No…” Three looked at her fiercely before her eyes dilated. Eight grasped her hand.

“Don’t let them win. This was their plan all along. To have us all fighting each other, not seeing the real threat. Us being captured, Callie’s death, Marie’s fall. Don’t you see? It was all staged? Even Octavio’s “change of heart” was to make me mad at you when you killed him. Marie and Cuttlefish are going to fulfill his plan…”

She stopped as Four struggled to his feet. He was battered and bloody but looked ready to fight again.

“THIS IS FOR MARIE!” He charged at them, before tumbling to the ground.

“Four,” Eight began softly, “She’s been under his control this whole time. She was trying to win you to her side-” He rounded on her fury.

“HOW THE SHELL CAN I TRUST YOU? You’re an Octoling” Eight strutted her chin out arrogantly.

“And you’re an Inkling. What difference does it make? While we stand here quarrelling, Octavio’s plan comes closer to being a reality. So if you want to fight us, you better wait ‘til this is over. Pull yourself together.”

She turned heel and dived down the shaft, with Three in tow. Four was left in the battle damaged elevator car.

No, he couldn’t believe it. There was no way Marie would do these things. They were twisting events against her, trying to fool him into helping the bad guys. Yes, that must be it. Shell, they both nearly got sanitized. That makes them really untrustworthy. Clearly they were under Octavio’s influence. They needed to be brought in. Hopefully they could recondition them to their older selves.

He slumped over tiredly. He needed to rest for a moment… just a moment.

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Three landed with a heavy thudding sound at the bottom of the elevator shaft. The fragile ground shook slightly as Eight landed next to her. They both clambered through the elevator doorway.

Pearl and Marina stood dead center in the room, weapons raised. There was what looked like regret on their faces and silent resignation. Marie was nowhere to be seen. Pearl stepped forward warily.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Just surrender peacefully and nobody gets hurt, alright?” Pearl said slowly, never lowering her weapon.

“What the Shell are you talking about? Where’s Marie? She’s going to get away!” Eight challenged. Pearl sighed wearily.

“Don’t play dumb with me. We know that you’re acting on Octavio’s orders. Just give up, this doesn’t have to end in a fight. Marie told us everything. How you would pretend not to know anything, how you would try to discredit her and then how you would attack us. It’s in the programing Octavio did to you. Just… please, come quietly.” Marina stayed silent throughout, her face grim.

“This isn’t what you think,” Eight pleaded, “This is part of their plan. To frame us.” She could see she wasn’t getting through to Pearl. She diverted her efforts to Marina. “Reena, please. Marie’s carrying out Octavio’s plan as we speak. Just let us stop her, we’re the only ones who can.” Eight appealed desperately to her. Marina cast her eyes down guiltily, not making eye contact. Eight slumped in defeat. But, almost noticeably, Marina tapped her foot against the floor in a pattern. One might assume it was simply a nervous habit, unless you were in the Octoling military

Pearl tensed slightly, almost unnoticeably. But Three was trained to see what was unseen. Her gun was pointed and raised before Pearl had the chance to attack. Pearl snarled as her finger hovered over the trigger. A good old-fashioned standoff. Eight turned as a thud from behind them indicated that Four had rejoined the fight. Three to two, all highly trained were not good odds. Eight gestured to Three to lower her Hero Shot as she dropped hers to the floor. They weren’t going to win this. They held their hands out to be cuffed with the Shellckles. Pearl stalked over to them with a regretful and remorseful expression. Marina and Four stood off to the side.

Suddenly Eight lunged forward with a headbutt that smashed into Pearl’s skull, stunning her for a time. Marina spun and kicked the weapon from Four’s hands and sweeped his feet out from under him in one fell swoop. She pressed her foot to his chest as if daring him to get up.

“Marina!” Pearl hissed, “What are you doing!?”

“The right thing,” Marina replied coolly as Four remained stationary under her. Three snatched up her weapon from the floor. Eight turned to Marina.

“Go,” Marina ordered, “I’ll take care of them, go stop Marie.” Eight turned to leave, “And Eight...” Eight paused from her place by the hatch that led to the exit, “Please come back with both hands intact. I’d hate to see all that natural musical talent go to waste,”

Eight shot her a lighthearted grin. Her and Three rushed down the hatch, to the surface.

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“This was going to be the greatest musical concert in history. MC Cuttle’s celebratorial debut, with his new killer track that was sure to flip some minds. It was to be one part DJ music, one part rap piece, with the two conflicting sides of himself coming together to form the masterpiece of sound. The DJ and The Cuttlefish within him silenced for a moment at the thought, before restarting their struggle for dominance. MC Cuttle was the product of that. A joining of two personalities to create… him.

He had tried explaining this to Marie but she just wouldn’t understand. Well, she had been busy setting up the contraption for his master plan. The booming beats that would melt brains, change minds and take the imagination by storm. It was so complex that he wasn’t really able to comprehend how Octavio had done it as Cuttlefish’s mind was… limited, to say the least.

Ahh well, at least he could perform the killer vocals well enough. That wasn’t really the part that mattered. What mattered was getting all the Inklings gathered in one place. Well that was easy, just announce a Squid Sisters concert with free tickets. That was sure to get the kids excited and running. Oh, this was going to be a doozy”

Marie frowned at her grandfather as he talked aloud to himself, slightly worried if he was OK. It was too late in the endgame for second thoughts but she wondered if she’d regret all this when the brainwashing was broken. Probably, but there would be a small bit of satisfaction, that finally, she had proven she was better than Callie, cooler and more popular. They had many versus Splatfests over the years, with Callie winning every one, minus the time an overzealous fan rigged the results two years ago. The Inklings poor taste would soon be rectified.

Sure she might have gone to extremities but -what was it all the bad guys say?- the ends justify the means. It would all be worth it in the end. Her grand return after those two idiots had tainted music in Inkopolis for far too long.

She finished setting up the stage for the “concert”, plugging in wires and speakers with a couple of disco lights to jazz things up. They were setting it up on the Square lobby roof where Off the Hook usually performed during splatfests. It was the middle of the night and any Inkling unfortunate enough to be wondering around was… well it was best to not say. Everything was prepped and ready to go. This was going to be the one Shell of a show.

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Three squinted at the glaring sunlight as she emerged from the underground. The air felts so much fresher up her, the deathly quiet of the underground gone at last. Eight crawled out the manhole after her. She had a look similar to when Three had first met her. She looked around admiring the skyline like it was the most precious and beautiful thing in the world. And yet, there was a confidence to her Three swore had come recently. Her eyes had lost that confused and lost look and were narrowed in determination, like she was solidified in her role in all this. She looked ready to kick some serious shell and Three thought she’d never looked better.

“You gonna stare at me all day or are we gonna get moving,” Yikes. She had noticed her staring, sitting there with a curled eyebrow and an amused expression. Three smiled awkwardly, stumbling over her words.

“Uhh… sorry you just looked- I mean I just noticed that you looked- uhh, nice” She garbled her words, finally giving up before she embarrassed herself further..

Eight laughed at her awkwardness, “It’s alright, Three,” She patted her on the back.

She looked around the bright sky, “It’s so much slower here. You forget what it’s like to be outside,” A pause followed as the duo sat in silence.

“We should probably get moving,” Three mumbled. Eight’s amused smile faded and she agreed with a curt nod.

“Right.”

A flash of blue in their peripherals drew their attention as the blue butterfly flew to greet them. It send a telepathic signal to them and, while it didn’t translate into words, more like a feeling, it expressed feelings of gratitude to them. Eight smiled at it. It flew over to nestle on her shoulder and she giggled in delight.

Azure thought it might stick around for a bit. They seemed like pleasant company and he had been alone for what felt like millenia, fluttering around the constantly changing landscape as an observer, watching civilisations rise and fall. It nestled itself into the crook in Eight’s neck, cuddling happily.

Even Three couldn’t stay moody for long at the sight of that.

“Aww,” She cooed, “You’ve made a friend. I think it likes you.”

Eight smiled broadly at her, showing her pointy teeth.

“It needs a name. Something fitting… how about Flutter? No, no, no, that’s too on the nose. Broadwing? Ehh too tacky… hmm; how about Azure? You know, like the shade of blue? How would you like that, little guy?” She nudged her finger against him affectionately. It made an almost-purring sound.

Suddenly, loud musics blasted from around them. It was so loud, it felt like the sound waves occupied the entire space around them, squeezing them. Three clutched her head in pain as the mother of all migraines assaulted her brain. Eight doubled over, grabbing onto a nearby handlebar for support. The earsplitting agony was forcing its way inside their skulls.

As soon as it had come, it ceased. They both stood up wobbly after the auditory assault.

Azure was… glowing, for lack of a better word. There was a sort of energy radiating out of it in waves. He appeared to be holding back the worst of the initial blast of Octavio’s music. There was a sound proof protective barrier around them, invisible to the naked eye. He was using telepathic waves to withhold the sonic waves of sound. Three and Eight were safe, for now. Inklings all over the city succumbed to the Hypno-beats. Strangely enough, the Octolings seemed to be unaffected by them.

Azure’s light began to dim. Three knew what she had to do, as Inklings turned on Octolings around them. She reached out to grasp Eight’s shoulder.

“Quick, knock me out. Azure’s protection is about to fail. Don’t let me become one of them. Please,” Three pleaded with her.

Eight looked at her softly before grabbing her and pulling her into a passionate kiss. Three was stunned but reciperated as what was actually happening dawned on her. Eight pulled her closer, tilting her head so their noses wouldn’t get in the way. Three’s hand settled on the base of her neck and in the midst of her long, wonderous hair. Eight inhaled her scent, tears rolling down her cheeks. They wrapped each other in a tight embrace, in a silent farewell. They broke apart, Three looking sheepish

“Wow… uhh... that was something,” She tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace. “When this is over… do you wanna go somewhere… uhh… I mean do you..?” Three trailed off. Eight smiled shyly. Three’s expression turned solemn and blank. Eight steeled her resolve. Azure was now emitting a dim light. Three’s eyes began to glaze.

Reluctantly, Eight wrapped her arms around her neck in a sleeper hold. Where her touch ad been so tender, was now strong and restraining. Three began to struggle and kick as the music took over. Slowly she slumped unconscious as her feeble slaps slackened. Eight sat her down mournfully in a nearby building that had been deserted. There was no time to lose, the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to reach Marie.

With Azure resting on her shoulder, she set off to the source of music. It seemed to be coming from the center of the city, where Inkopolis Square was. There were crowds of Inklings wondering in a zombie-like trance towards the Square. She snagged a navy blue hoodie hanging in a nearby store display shelf, pulling up the hood of it to hide her identity. She slipped into the crowd and was carried along the wave of hurrying Inklings.

The Square was filled to the brim with Inklings, all cheering and screaming enthusiastically. However, there was an artificial tone to it. Like a compliment meant as sarcasm. Eight wondered if Octavio had deluded himself into thinking they would grow to actually love the music. Did he think the Octolings grew to love him? That the Calamari Inkantation was some kind of Inkling wizardry that had stolen all of his “loyal” fans away from him? Was he really that unwilling to see the truth? That he was an object of their nightmares, a incarnation of evil, a shining example of everything wrong with the world. He would be nothing more than a pretender playing a superstar. Deep down, everyone would know that, even if his plan succeeded.

A pit had been dug in the centre of the Square. Eight gaped in horror as she watched Octoling dumped into it. At roughly 5 cephalometers high, there was no way they’d be getting out of there by themselves. Inklings crowded around the exterior of the pit, jeering at and taunting the inhabitants. Eight felt sick to her stomach. She further pulled her hood back for fear she’d be discovered.

Marie walked onto the stage like she had all the time in the world, flashing the crowd a winning smile. The crowd roared with enthusiasm, Eight sensed that it was somewhat real. That they were generally excited to see her. She pushed her way through the crowd, many Inklings blocking her way. They were jumping up and down excitedly and chanting loudly. She made her way to the right side of the deep pit, peering over at the poor prisoners. She couldn’t fail. Wouldn’t fail.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets and retreated into one of the shops. Sheldon was strangely absent and a funny-looking Inkling with shadowy dark skin and a purple afro was pawning over Sheldon’s collection, his back to her. Eight could feel a cold fury rising up within her. Before she could stop herself, she was grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and sent him flying into a neighbouring wall. He crumpled against it, lying sprawled across the ground. She glanced around worriedly. Everyone seemed to be take by what was happening on the stage to notice. Checking no one was watching, she slipped behind the counter and through the backdoor that led up the stairs to Sheldon’s residence.

Two Inklings were ransacking the hallway, clubs in hand. She ran at them , jumping at the wall to push off it and slam her elbow into the first’s face, snaking her leg out behind her to deliver a swift kick to the jaw. The first howled as he lashed out blindly in rage. She ducked his swipe, getting in close. She swung her leg and sweeped his legs out from under him, slamming him to the ground with the flat of her palms.

The other, a girl, came at her with the club, swinging wildly at her. Eight sidestepped but she was ready for that, altering her course without slowing her swings. She swung at her time and time again with Eight barely able to dodge. Eight stumbled back into a doorway, ducking another swing. The club was a bat with several nails impaled on each side, a dangerous weapon. Eight retreated back into the room from the doorway, a rather large bathroom. The girl attacked offensively, with wide arcing swings that Eight had to jump back to avoid.

Suddenly Eight’s back pressed against the wall. Her blood ran cold as her eyes widened. The Inkling girl grinned viciously, bracing for a swing. Eight sprang against the wall, pushing off it with her feet. In midair she launched into a somersault, timing it just right to avoid the girls swing. She landed behind her and without hesitation delivered a blow to the back of the girl’s knee. She collapsed with a grunt and Eight sent a boot the back of her head. Gotcha.

She rushed up the stairs to the roof. It was empty save for an antenna and an oddly placed deck chair with questionable stickers of various weaponry plastered on it. The side of the roof gazed out onto the crowd assembled out in the Square. She was directly above the main Splatfest stage suspended from the ground, the roof towering above the stage. She peered over to the edge, as Cuttlefish walked onto the stage with a very unlike-Cuttlefish grin. He raised his hands to the sky in a call for applause. He was met with an awkward silence, with one elderly Inkling clapping enthusiastically and exclaiming loudly, pointing eagerly at him. Eight almost laughed as he sighed into his palm. He marched over to the music player end of the stage, turning up the volume by angrily turning the disc. The crowd roared in approval and began chanting.

“MC Cuttle, MC Cuttle, MC Cuttle!” They cheered. Octavi- err, Cuttlefish, smiled widely at the praise, however artificial. He turned to the crowd, enjoying his moment in the spotlight.

Eight saw her opportunity arise. She braced herself for a running jump, stretching her limbs in preparation. She let out a breath and sucked in a huge gulp of air. She raised her eyes to where she wanted to go and took off at a breakneck pace. Her feet galoped along the ground as she gained momentum. The edge of the roof approached quickly and she braced herself for a leap. Her legs pushed upwards and she flew out into the open air.

She seemed to glide across the air like a bird, piercing through the wind like an arrow as she hurtled towards the stage beneath her. She landed with a loud thud and rolled, part to keep her momentum, part to protect herself from the fall. She came up with Octoshot in hand, letting out a spray of Ink without aiming. Marie’s eyes widened at the sight of her. She only had time to gape at her before Eight was upon her, barreling into her and knocking her off her feet. Eight straddled her, pinning her to the ground. Marie clawed at her feebly but to no avail. Eight held her down but the throat. Cuttlefish snarled viciously and charged her but Eight leveled her Octoshot and he froze. Eight grinned victoriously at him. That had been far too easy.

The crowd was shouting at her, trying to scramble up the sides of the wall to reach the stage. Eight had never seen such raw hatred before. They were all tossing things at her, calling her scum. Some even looked upset and had tears streaming down their faces. Marie continued to squirm underneath her. She shifted her legs until they were directly under her. Suddenly, Eight was launched off the stage as Marie propelled her upwards with a powerful push. She flew through the air, managing to land in a rough roll that mostly cushioned her fall. She landed in a ring, with Inklings surrounding her. She scrambled to her feet, taking a defensive stance with her two fists sprayed out in front of her. They just looked at her dumbstruck, as if they couldn't believe their luck. It seemed they were to fearful of her to attack her now that she was at ground level. They’d probably heard stories about her, the Octoling who fought back.

An Inkling, large for a cephalopod lumbered forward slowly. He wore a sadistic grin with angled eyebrows. He took is time, marching slowly towards her. She lunged at him, pulling his head into her knee and uppercutting him. He was sprung into the air, landing with a sick whomp. Eight gazed challengingly at the circle surrounding her. Two Inklings, both girls charged her. She leapt into the air, kicking one in the side of the head and sending them stumbling into the immediate path of the other. They went down with a tangle of limbs. Eight swept her Tenta-locks from her face. The crowd seemed to find their confidence and they rushed her all at once, surging in all around her. Eight thew punched and kicks, smashing the back of her head against some unfortunate Inkling’s skull. She knocked three others to the ground with a well time roundhouse kick. They fell back as others took their place. They grabbed hold of her arms and legs as she struggled, kicking, scratching and biting for dear life. They were going to tear her apart with their bare hands.

The whirring of chopper blades and a loud ringing noise got the crowd's attention as they

Dropped Eight to the ground. She grunted as she landed heavily on her back. The Shellacopter whirred overhead as Marina stepped into sight on the side platform of the vehicle so she could be seen, kitted out in her performance clothes. Agent Four stood alongside her, although Pearl was absent. He was holding a large boombox over his head with both hands, grinning widely. Eight almost couldn’t believe it. Deus Ex Machina only happened in books right?

The Shellacopter landed as the crowd formed a circle around it. Marina and Four stepped off, Four still carrying the boombox. The crowd looked completely unsure of how to react to this, all still stunned.

A shriek of laughter brought all their attention as Marie doubled over with laughter. She gasped for breath as the uncontrollable giggles reigned. She took a good few moments with her cruel, sarcastic laughter. She managed to regain control of herself.

“Sorry- I just couldn’t take you seriously,” She held a hand a hand over her mouth to prevent the giggles from returning, “Your actually thought that little thing would make a difference to this monster over here,” She gestured to Pearl’s stolen speakers, almost tenfold the size of the boombox. Marina smiled smugly in reply. “Mine plays a different kind of music,” She slipped on earmuffs as Four did the same, tossing a spare pair to Eight. The Octoling caught them, looking grateful. She was sure she would need them for whatever Marina had planned.

“Can’t stand the sound of your own music?” Marie mocked with a hideous chortle. Marina just smiled again. She flipped open the boombox cassette player, slipping in an unlabeled one that had been nested in her pocket. The speaker’s on the thing began to warm up as the cassette began to play.

An ungodly, high pitch, scream-like noise radiated outwards, as Maria and the Inklings shielded their ears. Cuttlefish stumbled off the back of the stage and out of sight as Marie fell to her knees. Marina strolled cooly -with Four in tow- through the crowd as they cringed away from the source of the noise. Inklings stumbled blindly away from her as a fit of panic seized the crowd. A perfect pathway formed in the crowd leading directly to the base of the stage. Four placed down the box, pulling his own Hero Shot from his belt, spraying the side of the stage with bright green Ink. Marina graceful dove into submersion, ascending up the wall like a bird in flight. She shot out and landed perfectly on the stage, opposing Marie. She was still doubled over with each hand on the sides of her head as if trying to crush her skull. She pulled something from her pocket as Marina rushed forward suddenly, realising what she was doing. She managed to give one last grin before the device she’d pulled from her pocket activated. Just as Marina clutched at her, grabbing hold of her as she super jumped into the air, knocking Marina off her feet.

Marina cursed as Marie hurtled off into the distance. She pulled herself to her feet.

No time to think about that , she thought, I need to focus on the task at hand,

Four had reached the stage and was looking around dumbfounded, panting heavily.

“Where’d she go,” His brow was scrunched up in a very unflattering confused expression. Marina sighed wearily, “ She got away… nevermind that right now, “ Four looked dejected at that, “we need to help this crowd before it’s too late. Quick, help me reprogramme this sound system. And warm your vocals,” Four’s eyes flicked over to her, alarmed.

“Wait, you want me to sin-”

“We’ll both sing, it’ll work better that way.” a loud thwomp told her Eight had managed to make it to the raised platform of the stage, “She can be our background. Please, it’s their only chance.”

Four agreed, if somewhat reluctantly, to Marina’s plan. They busied themselves for a moment with the equipment as the crowd were incapacitated from the sound. Eight gazed unsurely at the complex turntable that MC Cuttle had set up. Marina patted her on the back, giving her a quick rundown of its workings.

“It’s programmed to do most of the work for you, you just need to adjust it every so often so it stays on track. Shallow waters, OK?” Marina reassured Eight, who looked like she was ready to enter an arena and fight a many-headed monster instead of operating the turntable. She gave a shaky nod, placing her fingers awkwardly on it.

Marina got to work on her laptop, witch she had hooked up to the behemoth of a sound system. She programmed some audio cues into it. For fun, herself and Pearl had made audio files of each of them singing their favourite songs. They would be instrumental in her plan now.

Marina rubbed her hands together. OK, they were ready to go. Why was she nervous? She had performed gigs under weirder circumstances. Although maybe not with so much riding on her performance. And maybe not with the crowd in a frenzy and NOT in a good way. Or without Pearly by her side. But with a bit of luck, everything would go smoothly. All the Inklings would go back to normal(ish) and the Octolings… best to cross that bridge when they got to it.

Four was looking worried. Marina guessed that maybe his singing talent wasn’t exactly on par with hers. No matter, Pearl’s voice-over would do the trick, even if it would look a little weird. All he needed to do was look like he was singing alongside her and the sound system would do the rest.

She ejected the cassette from the boom box, placing it back in her pocket. Immediately the sonic wave silenced, leaving the crowd to rise slowly to their feet after being doubled over with their skulls between their palms. There was no time to waste. Marina booted up the circuitry as the a low melody began to play, a beat slowly rising. It was a classic they were sure to recognise. The Calamari Inkantation was pretty well known, you know?

The crowd seemed to freeze as they realised what song was initiating from the speakers. Rows upon rows of Inklings stood paralyzed, reactionless. Marina took that as a good sign, increasing the volume a bit as the voiceovers kicked in. Four humorously began to sing but the sound of Pearl’s echoey notes of perfection drowned him out. He looked ridiculous, with his singing sounding very … odd. Nobody seemed to notice him and his “singing” weren’t exactly in sync. Marina lip synced her own voice-over as she focused on the crowd. Slowly they seemed to thaw out of whatever kept them frozen as one Inkling, then another, then another began to clap along with the beat. Four was trying to dance but it came across as more of a clumsy, drunken-like stumble. Marina had to cover her mouth to stop the giggles that threatened to overtake her.

Eight sat at the turn-table with a small smile on her face as she watched Four’s antics, despite it all. He really was a goofball, even in the most dire of circumstances. She wondered what Marina had done to sway him to their side. She’d have to ask later. The song reached an instrumental section as Marina stepped back. She grabbed hold of Eight firmly with a devious grin, pulling her over to centerstage. Eight looked down at the large, large crowd staring up at her. She gulped nervously, breathing heavily. There… there was so many people… what if they- before she could finish that thought, Marina grabbed her arm, fixing her into a dance position.

“I don’t k-know how,” Eight protested nervously. Marina just shook her head and smiled knowingly. She wasn’t getting out of this that easy . She couldn’t resist having a little fun, even now. She was a popstar after all. She guided Eight across the stage towards Four.

“Neither does he,” She whispered, smirking slightly. “Show them we don’t have to be enemies. Show HIM we don’t have to.” With a firm push, Eight was sent into Four as he caught her her by the elbows.

“Fancy seeing you here,” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows teasingly.

“Well, I saw you all alone and I just felt so sorry for you ,” She smirked back, finding her feet He laughed as they danced. Eight felt as if she was finally connecting with him, igniting a spark of friendship. They’d gotten off to a rough start, what with the accusations and such. She’d caught him in a stressful time. She hoped maybe they could get to know each other when all this was over. He stood on her toes occasionally and threatened to collapse onto her more than a few times but she had her own fair share of missteps. The crowd seemed to be enjoying watching them make fool of themselves, jeering at them mockingly, in a light hearted sort of way. They finished with a (somewhat) graceful spin. Four ran off to go to his… let’s say adoring crowd. Marina was chuckling quietly at his almost childlike innocence. He seemed a far cry from the serious, distrustful Inkling Eight had come to know him as. Eight went to join the Inklings hoisting the Octolings inhabiting the pit in the centre of the Square. They all seemed a little banged up and were pretty sceptical of the Inklings suddenly switching gears. Eight’s heart ached for them as they sauntered off in a group away from the Inklings that had helped them. They still had a long way to go. The Inklings themselves, they seemed to be almost back to their trolling, memeing selves. Some Inkling were already grafiting the Square walls with… well it was better left unsaid. Somehow Jelfonzo had got his shop open during the commotion and Inklings were trying to pile in by the hundreds. He was hosting an “””end of the world” sale. Well, business was business. The jellyfish’s obsession with fashion was kind of… unnerving to say the least. Eight couldn’t help but laugh as Inklings bustled around his shop, carrying on their shopping as if nothing had happened.

“Glad to see everybody's back to normal,” Eight spun to find Three leaning against the wall, a sly smirk playing across her features. Her arms were crossed and her eyes looked a little unfocused and a little too wide, as if coming out of a deep sleep.

“Who’s doing it now?” The Inkling teased, her mouth stretched into a slowly widening smile as Eight suddenly realised she was staring. She blushed, a crimson color staining her cheeks like a nervous schoolgirl. She tried to make eye contact with the Inkling but she just flushed, cringing as she remembered the last time they had been together. Three sighed in mock annoyance.

“Can save the world multiple times with no hassle but can’t even bring herself to look me in the eye without turning as red as a salmon. Eight…” Her voice turned soft, “I don’t bite, OK?”

Eight looked at her shyly in embarrassment. Cod, why was she so awkward? Eight’s thoughts were moving at a million miles a minute. Here was this amazing and beautiful and smart girl who was probably getting really offended that Eight was practically ignoring her- Her thoughts were interrupted as Three pulled her into a rib-crushing hug that had her calling out “woomy” in surprise. Slowly her arms wrapped around the unusually affectionate Inkling. Shyly, she buried herself in the crook of Three’s neck as all the tension left her body. It had been a long day for the both of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Three said quietly against her ear. “I had just enough time to worry about you before i got… well… yeah,” Three finished awkwardly. She cleared her throat as they broke apart.

Eight smiled, glad she wasn’t the only socially inept one. After the week they had, who could blame them? Three was staring coldly at something behind Eight. As she turned, she jumped as a loud voice boomed, drowning out the busy noised of the Square.

“Oi, you two! This is nice and cozy and all but we have two frie- umm terrorists to catch. Kinda important so if you could just stop doing… whatever your doing, that’d be swell. Last person to get to the chopper is a fried prawn.” Seems like Four had gotten sick of the crowd. Eight’s smiled morphed into a solemn line as she was reminded that their job wasn’t over.

A part of her burned with a fiery anger she couldn’t quench as she thought of Callie. Her hands tensed as they clenched into a fist. Eight reached down, gently prizing her fingers apart and slipping Three’s hand into her own. Three relaxed slightly .They would face this together. Hand in hand they rushed to the shellacopter.

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Marina had the craft on automated flight mode, being able to control it from her laptop. Three and Eight were keeping watch from the sides as Four prepped their equipment. Why was he always stuck with these mundane jobs? He was always the one who had to fix up their shooters and make sure each of the Ink tanks were stocked and ripe for sprayings. Uhh… that came out wrong. Coddamn him.

They had tracked MC Cuttle and Marie’s location remarkably quickly. A “reliable” source had seen them enter a few minutes prior. They had not been seen leaving since. A large platoon of armed, sanitised Octarians had been seen guarding the place.They had holed themselves up in a towering construction site. It was a skyscraper that had fallen victim to a terrorist attack (likely by Octavio) a few months prior and the city’s authorities had only now gotten around to the rebuilding process. Flanked by multiple cranes of various sizes and with a weak structural support it seemed like they would have to be careful not to bring the building down.

Marie must have made the arrangements to transform it into a makeshift safehouse, deliberately putting the construction on hold to serve their agenda.

“Guess It's kinda hard to sneak away when the whole city is looking for you for hijacking them and brainwashing them into an Octoling-loathing horde of brain-deads” Four shouted above the whirring of the shellacopter blades.

Marina lowered the aircraft until it was hovering just above the site. The roof seemed absent of any guards. Suspiciously so. They would have to exercise caution.  Marina pulled a lever on the control panel as a zipline hook deployed. She waved her hand in a “Go,Go,Go” gesture as the hook buried itself in a large wooden beam on the far side of the complex. Three and Eight armed themselves, Hero Shot and Octoshot in hands and a couple of specials, as a last resort. Four slung a Hero Roller over his shoulder and grinned dumbly. He clearly hadn’t thought that through. Three cleared her throat loudly, tapping her foot in agitation.

“You do know that we have to be careful, right? That Roller will likely bring the place down upon our heads.”

Four swung his arm in Sidon-fashion in response. “I live and breathe caution. But I see your point,” He replaced it on the shelf, swapping it for his own Hero Shot. He seemed to be acting even more of a goofball then normal.

Three whispered to Eight when he was out of earshot “Sometimes, I think he just acts to be this stupid. It’s not possible to be this...” Three paused, searching for the right word. “Oblivious,” She was more close to the truth than she realised.

They deployed on the line, one after the other. Marina was staying behind as tech support, using a motion scanner to scan for any hostile activity. They landed gracefully as a unit, careful not to make too much noise from their downward descent. Three sweeped around the area, carefully. Large blocks of concrete were spread across the side, with, about 2 metre large gaps opened up in sections of the floor, giving sightlines to lower levels. It was unnervingly quiet; only the creaking of the wooden scaffolding and the wind whipping the exterior to disrupt the calm. They moved cautiously across the floor towards a ramp at the end that led downwards.

They reached it with no hiccups. Together they descended to the penultimate level of the structure. A loud groan emitted from the place as the wind began to pick up it’s pace. The scaffolding began to ruffle as a gust of wind pushed against them. Despite that, they pressed on.

A lone Octoling stood in the centre of the room, his vision obscured by the many blocks of concrete. Quietly, they all took cover positions behind the concrete slabs. Three motioned for the others to hold their position, creeping up slowly behind the armed figure. She lifted a heavy concrete block and brought it down on his head swiftly but light enough so as not to do any serious damage. He crumpled to the ground, crying out as he tried to lunge at her on his way down. A kick to his jaw sent him to the ground. He didn’t get up.

Three checked his pulse, before grabbing him by the ankles and dragging him out of sight. She pulled him gingerly behind a block, as she knelt down beside him.  A sudden beeping sound emitting from a strange device on his temple caused her to frown. It looked like it was… monitoring his brain activity. Checking his consciousness status. Three turned in shock as she realised what that meant. A trap.

“Get down!” She yelled as she dove for cover, “ They know wh-”

The ground exploded under her, cutting her off. Bits of wooden shrapnel came down upon her as, what looked like an multiple onslaughts of a Splatling burst through the weak floor. They shredded through the floor and walls, destroying many beam and pillars holding the place together, creating an instability in the building. She lost site of the others in the chaos as the universe itself seemed to be collapsing, exploding into thousand of tiny, little shards that stuck in The structural integrity of the site began to fail as the ceiling collapsed down on top of them as the walls gave way. Their world flipped upside down as she plummeted down.

Yet again, time seemed to slow down as Three fell. What couldn’t have been more than a few seconds stretched out in to what seemed like minutes. She struggled feebly as she fell through the air, grasping out for something, anything, to break her fall. G-Force rocketed against her like a current, ripping the air from her lungs as she screamed. Shards of shrapnel flew parallel to her, narrowly avoiding cutting her into ribbons.

Her hand clamped on a loose chain. She swung wildly across it as her arm took the brunt of the momentum of the fall. She heard a popping sound as her arm felt like it was ripped from the socket and an agony unlike anything she’d felt consumed her upper limb. She let out a gut wrenched screech as she crashed into a suspended wooden platform as the carnage rained down upon her.

Three was close to blacking out as she slumped, whimpering from the pain in her arm. She dragged herself into a sitting position. Her arm was twisted in an unnatural angle. Her shoulder must be dislocated. Bile rose in her throat as she viewed it and she swallowed it down with a gulp. She was going to have to set it. She gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath. She put her good arm to her shoulder and twisted. She fell to her knees, muffling her cry of pain with her sleeve as her shoulder popped back into place. The collapsing building started to become further and further away. She collapsed in a heap and blacked out from the pain, seeing no more

Chapter Text

The building was in carnage, shrapnel flying everywhere as it crumpled in on itself. The structural behemoth toppled as a large groaning sound from the support could be heard for miles. The clashing of metal and concrete was deafening, an alarm to the whole city of the chaos. Dense waves of dust protruded from the collapse as it crashed onto the street. Inklings and Octolings alike ran for cover as the building plummeted down upon them. Shards of concrete and twisted metal impaled themselves into neighbouring buildings as the site split into several pieces. Some crumpled into debris that rained down in large chunks, crashing into buildings and caving in parts of the walls. The other parts crashed straight into the Inkcorp Tower . It leant against it like some kind of unstable crutch. Loose pieces of concrete dropped off as it groaned dangerously

It’s scary, seeing so much destruction and knowing you’re the one responsible, Marie mused atop the tower. Her calculations had been wrong; the collapse had fallen just short of hitting her position, far closer than she would have liked. No matter, she was still unharmed and everything was going according to plan. Well, not HER plan but nevertheless, they were golden so far.

She felt a pang in her stomach… was that guilt? Horror? Her breath quickened as she looked down at the desolation all around her. She had done this… caused this much havoc on a city that adored her! What was she doing?

They’ll never forgive you for this, a voice told he r. Too late for second thoughts now. Just get on with it. Or do you want to be an outcast to your new allies as well?

Shakily, she whisked out a pair of Binkoculars, focusing on the ground zero of the collapse. She grimaced to herself as she saw the Octarian troops move in, blasters raised. Ahead, she caught sight of a dazed Octoling awakening groggily. She had stumbled to her feet, suddenly realising she was surrounded. The leader of the Octarian platoon, an experienced Octoling close combat specialist with a no-nonsense attitude and the skill to back it up stepped up behind her, raising his gun at the back of her head for the killing blow. Marie suddenly fumbled for her communicator.

“Wait!” She hissed, “ Take them…” She paused, thinking of something to say, “Go execute them somewhere more public. Show the whole city what happens to heroes.”

“Affirmative,” His monotone voice held no hesitation.

He brought the butt of his weapon down on the back of her head without hesitation. Eight crumpled like a sack of salmon. Four let a cry, launching into a dazed charge. The specialist stood back under Four’s charge. Sending his flat palms into several pressure points on his torso and his neck, intended to immobilise him. He fell to his knees as the commander grabbed him by the hair, attaching shackles to his wrist and pulling him up. One of his troops lifted Eight up over his shoulder.

Agent Three seemed to be missing from the survivors. It was to be expected, it had been unlikely any of them would have survived. Although Marie had hoped Four wouldn’t have been with them.

He is nothing, the voice chastised her, think of the plan, and only the plan.

She attached a zip-point to the side of the building, firing a zip-line and attaching it. She plucked her harness from her duffle bag, also including a Splat Blaster and a splashdown. She stepped into it and buckled herself on to the line. She felt a rush of exhilaration as she zipped down towards the ground zero of the collapse. A loud whirring sound emitted from her harness as she descended. She landed heavily with a grunt, righting herself quickly.

Suddenly a long-range Charger shot rang out from an adjoining building. It darted towards the clearing at an unusually high speed. However it was still Ink and needed time to travel.

“Get down!” Marie yelled over the communicator as her troops darted for cover.

But it wasn’t them it was aimed for.

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All Three knew was darkness. A blackening void that consumed her sight. Darkness and a crushing weight, debris crusher her underneath it. She coughed as dust tried to force itself down her throat as it reacted to her shifting. She spat it out, spluttering madly as she gasped lungfuls of whatever oxygen remained to her. She shifted, wincing as her arm throbbed in a reminder of her situation. She grabbed the rubble crushing down on her with her good hand, straining as she struggled to lift it off her.

Her arm shook under the pressure as she bucked, struggling to lift. Her arm gave out from the strain, as she gasped in effort. The debris slumped back on top of her.

Tears of despair began to leak from her lacrimal. She was going to die here, buried under, unknown to anyone, forgotten. A failure.

She had just begun to come out of her shell. Her hermit and people-avoiding days had begun to come to a close. Her life had started to turn, a light at the end of the tunnel of the trainwreck that had been her personal life. And now, well what little there was of that was ending. All because of a stupid hunk of concrete.

A determined streak of energy sparked in her. No, she would not die like this. Not if she had a say in the it.

She shifted, slowly. She hissed as her arm begun to throb from the movement. It was one, solid block that was pinning her down. Slowly but surely she propped her legs out under the rubble, pressing her back down as she levered them up. She took a deep breath, held it. Then she began to push.

She started gradually, slowly raising her legs vertically. She needed to preserve her energy. Slowly, the concrete began to rise, ascending at a snail's pace. Her burden groaned as it shifted. Light began to trickle in, while Three began to sweat as her legs tensed in effort. Her thigh muscles were screaming under the crushing burden upon them. Three grunted in effort as she struggled to keep it up. Her face contorted as she began to yell in effort. Her legs felt like there were a dozen angry, hot knives were jabbing at them. If she dropped it now, she would never be able to get it up again.

As her strength drained, she sent one final push. It tilted, then fell sideways. Three lay there as she gasped for breath. Slowly she raised herself from the hole she had been buried in, clinging to the side like she’d fade out of existence if she let go. The wind rustled in her hair, whispering along her skin like the touch of an old friend. She raised her arms to the heavens as the wind reverberated her.

Her flesh was torn, fraught with debris and grime that caked every layer of her skin. Her hair was in a tangled mess, and her Hero Suit was ripped into rags. Her cape was absent, nowhere to be found. She looked like she’d been buried under rubble, which of course she had. She shivered.

She stumbled forward through the wreckage, lost. It looked like a warzone or the victim of a bombing. Whilst she was gaining her bearings, a sudden shot in the distance had her seek cover behind a half-standing pillar. She blinked, noticing her vision was fuzzy. She squinted in the direction of the shot.

She caught sight of, atop a large pile, Pearl drawing back a Splat Charger as she put it away, before turning heels and running, disappearing out of sight. Three frowned as she tried to recall the plan. Her memory was… hazy, to say the least.

Something to do with… a trap? And… Four was the key. But for what? Three couldn’t recall, she was still recovering from her little... let’s say collision, with the building.

A distressed cry brought her attention to her left, to an assembly of armed Octarians around bent-over Marie. Eight was on her knees in shackles, flanked by two guards. Marie was weeping. She was clutching a Hero Shot to her chest. Four was nowhere to be seen.

No, no, no, no, NO!

Her legs were moving before she could even form conscious thought. She was clambering up the rubble pile one-handedly at an impressive speed for an injured Inkling that had just had a building dropped on her, injury be damned. She scrambled up the slope after Pearl, traversing the slope of concrete like a monkey in a tree.

She had no time for rational thinking, only action. No time to ask why.

She spotted Pearl as she inked the side of a nearby building. She dove in and set about worming her way to the roof. Three tore after her, joining her in the Ink. Pearl sprung out, switching back to humanoid form and grabbing the side of the building and hoisting herself up swiftly. She must have realised Three was behind her.

The Pearlescent Pop-Princess leapt for the neighboring rooftop. She undershot the jump and crashed through a large window that spanned almost the entire wall beneath the roof. She landed roughly on all fours as shards of glass dug into her skin. She scrambled to her feet as Three followed her through the shattered window. Pearl slid on the glass and stumbled, barely keeping her footing as she went. Three lunged at her as she ran, grabbing her around the shoulders from behind. Pearl struggled against her grip as Three’s hold tightened.

Pearl slackened suddenly and before Three could react, Pearl’s elbow smashed into her nose. She stumbled back as her nose began to bleed. Pearl kicked her knees out, grabbing her by the hair and raising her fist to Three’s face. She stopped suddenly, mere inches from Three’s face, her eyes lighting up in recognition.

“ Three?” She exclaimed, clearly surprised. She hadn’t checked who was chasing her and she was kind of hard to recognise, what with in the state she was in.

Three growled , that all-too familiar animalistic sound, as she lunged at Pearl. She swiped at her viciously with her clenched fist. Her eyes constricted, narrowing unnaturally. Pearl deflected the strike with her wrist, backing into a hallway warily. Three rushed at her with an almost-roar like sound. She tackled Pearl to the ground, trying to get her hands around her throat.

“You killed Four!” She hissed, snarling threateningly.

Pearl slapped them away, hooking her leg around Three to try and flip her. She got her into a headlock as Three clawed at her arms.

“I didn’t-” Three managed to smash the back of her head against the pop star's nose, sending her reeling back as pink ink-blood squirted from her nose. She dove on her, straddling Pearl as she lay stunned. Her fist rose and she threw it, crashing against Pearl’s cheek like a hurricane. It rocked her head, sending her head into a state of shock as she struggled to breath. Three threw another, snarling animalistically. Pearl lurched her head to the side as Three’s fist smacked her temple. Pearl struggled fruitlessly as Three pinned her down, winding up a punch.

She was going to die. There was no getting out of this. Tartar could see it. No point in staying now. Time for a new host.

Suddenly, a mint-coloured ink begun leaking out of Pearl nose and ears. It leapt at Three and grabbed hold of her, clinging to her like glue. She struggled to get the foul coating off her. She could feel it beginning to penetrated her nostrils, her mouth, her ears. She screamed as it forced her mouth open and began pushing its way inside.

A sonic boom threw her backwards as the gooey ink shot off her. Pearl Booyah!ed at it again as it darted to the ceiling. She caught it midair with her shout. It blew apart, spraying droplets of Ink everywhere. Pearl panted heavily as she leaned against a beam, eyeing the drops warily. Three staggered, dropping to her knees. Her back felt bruised and battered from the shockwave of Pearl’s cry. She’d walk it off.

Pearl reached out her arm, looking her firmly in the eye. Three hesitated, She just killed Four… but what on earth was tha-that thing? She gazed at Pearl’s outstretched hand, She’d give the idol a chance to explain… she’d warranted that much from saving her.

She grasped her hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. She slumped against the beam opposite Pearl, her arms crossed.

Pearl cleared her throat, “I didn’t...we planned… Marina and I… “She cut herself off, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “OK. Let me start at the beginning…”

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MC Cuttle sighed, “That is disappointing.”

He was watching Marie on the cameras he had installed onto each and everyone of his troops. He was in front of a mass computer system, with 50 monitors surrounding him. He had requisitioned the security room in the Inkcorp Tower as a base of operations of sorts.

She appeared not to be murderizing the coddamn shell out of those damn meddlers like he’d asked. He banged his fist against the table (He rubbed it , that had really hurt) Looks like he would have to deal with these squidkids himself. Good thing he had the perfect mechanism for the job. A little storm he’d cooked up.

He shuffled towards the elevator, to the Inkcorp armory. They opened with a ding, a quiet rendition of the Calamari Inkantation playing from a small speaker. Cuttle grunted, pulling it out the panel in the wall. He glared at it, as if willing for it to disappear. He slammed it into the metal doorway of the elevator, breaking it into pieces and chucking them on the ground. He turned the key in the slot on the panel, clearance for the armory. The reticle on the panel flashed a green with a boop. The elevator shuddered and it descended, coming to a stop with a brief shake. The doors slid open

Aw Shit.

There was a gaping hole in the steel wall of the vault, about a meter in diameter, exposing the outside sky. That wasn’t what had him worried. In a leather office chair, her feet crossed on the table, a sly grin on her face, like the headlights that caught the deer, was a shadowy-haired Octoling, with chocolate skin, clad in a leather jumpsuit and fingering a Brella levelled at him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” She motioned with the weapon for him to come closer, slowly.

Cuttlefish dropped to his knees, “Marina, thank Cod you’re here. I just managed to break free of his inf…”

She cut him off,” Yeah, nice try. I ain’t falling for the oldest trick in the book. What’d you take me for, old?” She smiled at her little joke.

Cuttle had his own smile, “On the contrary, you just did. Youth doesn’t bring wisdom, I suppose,”

Marina frowned, “Wha-”

She was cut off as she was slammed into from behind. She was thrown into the wall by the heavy force. Her chin crunched against the steel, blood dripping freely as she staggered back to her feet. A punch to the stomach lifted her off her feet. She slammed to the floor, groaning loudly. Her vision blurred. An advanced mechanical suit, about 10 ft tall loomed over her.

The faceplate opened.

Marina gasped, and not just because she was winded. And then the steel clad-boot slammed down on her face.

Cuttle winced sympathetically. Her face was a bloody mess, blood staining her chin and flowing freely from her crushed nose. But she was breathing at least.

“Funny, how tables turn wouldn’t you say,” He remarked to the robotic figure. They just stood there.

“Cheer up Callie, you do what I say and your cousin gets to keep her pretty little head. I’m nothing if not a man that sometimes keeps his word. About 66% of the time, so no need to worry.” He piped up.

She stayed silent. He patted her on the armoured shoulder, holding a detonator in his hand. He’d got the idea from CQ Cumber in his time in the Metro. Or Cap’n Cuttlefish’s time in the Metro. Whatever.

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Eight tensed as she heard orders being barked down their communicators. She had managed to hear “Take care of the Octoling,” The troops had their backs turned to her, hand to their earpiece. The time to act was now.

She unearthed the key to her cuffs from its hiding place in her pocket. Azure turned out to be a pretty good pickpocket, hiding in the cuff of her sleeve of her leather outfit. Quietly she freed herself, keeping the cuffs on her wrist.

She moved quickly, stepping  up behind the 1st and locking her chains around his neck. He stiffened thrashing out at her as his troops turned to her in surprise. She kicked the back of his knees, knocking his legs out from under him. The trooper unholstered their Octoshots as she crouched behind him, holding him out in front of her like a shield.

Marie joined them with her weapon raised. Eight locked eyes with her, not averting eyesight.

“They killed him, Marie. I know you don’t know me, don’t trust me but look at the facts. Octarian Ink, poisonous to Inklings or Octolings not accustomed to it. Only an Octarian could have done it. Marie…” She trailed off, pleading with her eyes.

Marie’s hand shook as she levelled her weapon at Eight, face conflicted and distraught.

A trooper lay a hand on her arm, and suddenly she grabbed his arm and wrenched it sideways. He howled and staggered back. She spun and kicked Eight’s captive square in the face. They slumped against the chains.

The third, the combat specialist grabbed her from behind in a bearhug. She was forced to drop her weapon as  Marie drove her elbows into his face repeatedly, crunching into his nose as he fell back, face a mess. Eight sent a roundhouse kick at him as he ducked to avoid. Marie sent a flurry of punches his way, battering him as he covered up with his arms. He grabbed her arm, yanking her down so he could send a knee to her stomach. She gasped for breath as her punched her squarely in the jaw.

This guy was no joke.

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“So, Four’s not dead, you’re not possessed by some evil goo any more and I have a serious brain trauma from having a building dropped on me. For fuc-”

“Yes that seems to be the general gist of it,” Pearl interrupted, “Now that you’ve disrupted the plan a great deal, perhaps we should focus on the issue at hand? Fight now, sass later,” Pearl stalked off. Three had no choice but to follow her. When Pearl was the one telling you  to focus, then you knew things were serious.

She was right though, they should hurry. Eight and the others could be in trouble. Who was she kidding, Eight could handle anything. She was practically invincible. Whoever she was fighting now, she was almost certainly kicking their ass like she always did, right?

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Eight charged him, intending to tackle him to the ground. He sidestepped, sending his fists into her back. She tumbled to the ground as Marie jumped on his back. He threw her off and she rolled to lesson the impact. He drove her back with carefully with planned swipes that had Marie on the defensive. He threw a heavy, straight punch which she caught with both hands. Before he could throw another she rolled aside as Eight rammed into him from behind. Marie fumbled to grab the gun lying on the ground. She levelled at him only for him to knock it from her grip as he backhand swiped at Eight. She deflected the strike with her elbow, driving her fist into his side. He grunted as he whirred to avoid Marie’s kick.

Together, they drove him back until his back was against a wall. Eight sprang to the wall, pushing off it to launch into a heavy strike that rocked his head round. He sent a whirring punch against her cheek, she spiraled into a pillar. The Octoling was dazed for the moment, he hit hard. The specialist grabbed Marie by the throat raising her up off her feet before slamming her down on a pack of concrete with a crunch. She groaned and didn’t get up.

He turned and his head rocked backwards as a wooden beam shattered against his skull. The whole world tilted as he staggered back. Blood dripped from his mouth, a pale green. He bellowed in rage and pain. He ripped it from Eight’s grasp and drove into into her chest as a loud crack echoed across the quarry. She stumbled and fell, grasping at a pipe for balance. A kick smacked into her side, driving what little air was left from her lungs

She held up her hands as if to shield herself as his hand smashed through to slam into her temple. She collapsed in a heap as he slammed a kick into her side. She gasped, covering up ash he slammed his toe into her ribs. Another crack and she was screaming in agony as pain flooded her chest. She gasped as every breath sent ripples of hurt across her body.

The blows stopped. She tried to rise, clawing at the dirt as she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. She gingerly settled on her knees. Grunts and pants came from behind as she turned her head slowly. Three blurry shapes were battling, Eight couldn’t make them out. She struggled to her feet, grasping a splintered wooden beam as a cascade of pain, like knives digging into her, exploded from her middle. She staggered and coughed, a splatter of blood showering the floor beneath her. She gradually raised her head up again, clutching her side like a lifeline.

One of the out-of-focus outlines was knocked to the ground as two others descended upon it. The fourth separated from the fighting, rushing towards her. Eight stumbled away as the discomfort in her ribs resumed. Before making it more than a couple steps, she collapsed under the pressure her body was being subjected to. Before the impact with the ground however, she was caught gently middair. She gasped as she was hoisted into a pair of arms as her shattered ribs panged.

She blacked out.

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Three threw punches, kicks and headbuts, anything. If it inflicted pain or a high degree of discomfort, it was an absolute priority for her. This piece of seafood scum was going to be eating ànd drinking out of a Coddamn tube when she was finished with him. She snarled,

The specialists face was bloody, big purple welts and bruises already beginning to form on his cheeks. He struggled as Marie grabbed him by the hair, pulling him to his feet. His head rocked to the side as Three’s fist pummeled him. His ears rung. He raised his hands to shield himself, but she was unrelenting. She drove her fist into him, her knuckles aching under the punishment. His face was a swollen mess, with a greeny-coloured blood caking his skin. Three raised her arm as it tensed.

“Three! Come quickly, it’s Eight!” The call from Pearl made her hesitate, finally lowering her fist to run and help Eight.

Before she could reach them, a large thud following a shockwave from behind threw her off her feet. She leapt to her feet, scrambling to pick up her dropped hero shot as she turned to face her attacker.  A futuristic-looking, mechanised suit stood in a crouched position, a whirring sound emitting from it as its palms began to glow. Three eyes widened as she realised it was charging up. She dove to the side as a beam of light narrowly-avoided turning her into fried seafood.

It launched into an offensive, as a Inkjet engine propelled it forward in an aerial charge. Three opened fire with her shooter. The suit strafed as a Inkjet activated on the side.

Pearl carried Eight behind a piece of concrete cover as Marie rushed to help Three. Pearl set her down gingerly on a flat piece of even ground on the field of uneven debris and chunks of concrete and wood. Pearl assessed the damage as the fight was going on. Her uniform was cropped short, making it easier to evaluate her. Thank Cod for weird leather outfits She had several broken ribs at least. She would need some medical attention ASAP.

Pearl rushed to join the fray as Three was knocked aside, her gun shattered and destroyed. Pearl and Marie, the second-halves of rockstar duos, attacked together. They threw quick jabs and heavy strikes as Pearl went for the their target’s legs and torso while Marie aimed for the arms and head. The armor of their opponent was thick, but they couldn’t help being driven back by the onslaught of the two Inklings

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Three always seemed to focus on the little details in life threatening situations. It was because of this that she noticed that the injured Octoling had vanished.

Eight’s gone. Why in shell would she wander off in the state she’s in?

Three breathed heavily as she slowly rose to her feet. Her body ached and groaned at the movement. She ignored it as she got to her feet. Across the battleground, she saw Eight stagger through a doorway and out of sight. She sighed and followed.

Eight staggered into the lobby of the Inkcorp Building, panting. She took in sweet lungfuls of air, leaning onto a pillar for support. Someone here can get help.

It was a moderately sized, with a bar counter in the center. Tables and chair decked out the area. Twin staircases on the back of the room led to an elevator door and, presumably a staircase flight behind a glass door. An Inkling guard stopped her.

“Hey! You really shouldn’t be here.” He put a firm hand on her shoulder.

Eight was stunned, “Did you not see the absolute fucking carnage outside?” She managed to get out.

His grip tightened on her shoulder. “You really shouldn’t be here,”

Suddenly, a thought hit her. This building was really close to the blast zone. Practically on its perimeter. Why would they not be evacuating? Unless they were here for a reason. She paused, dwelling over why they would possibly want to be this close to a hazard.

Like they’re guarding something. Or someone.

She made her choice. Eight tensed as the guards eyes narrowed. She suddenly reached for his weapon holster. He lurched away from her as he reached for his weapon. He fumbled with his holster as Eight caught him with a square punch to the temple. He head snapped to the side. Her wrist ached from the blow. She had not expected for it to go that well. Lucky her.

A ding and the doors of the elevator opened, half a dozen Inkling guards spilling out, wielding Blasters. They surrounded Eight. She dropped the weapon, putting her hands behind her back. She slowly got down on her knees so as not to upset her injured ribs. She wanted to withdraw her previous statement.

Three watched powerlessly as they shackled her and dragged her to the elevator. She was crouched in the shadows of the doorway. As soon as the elevator doors closed, she made her way across the room, being careful to keep out of the sightline of the camera she had spotted on the ceiling of the lobby. She darted between tables, using them as cover from the camera. Finally, she reached the elevator, instead opting to take the stairs up.

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It pained Callie to do this. To swipe Marie aside like she meant nothing  and even to fight her sworn rival from Off the Hook. She didn’t have a choice. She was just trying to do the right thing. That was getting harder and harder to believe.

Pearl lunged at her. It felt almost too easy to rocket a fist her way and knock her aside. She felt unstoppable, unmatched.

And she hated it.

A net rocketed from her wrist, pinning Marie to the ground. She struggled feebly, until an electric current passed through the netting, stunning her.  Pearl snatched up a drain pipe from the ground. She approached the metalised armorer from behind. She clubbed the tip of her helmet, twisting her head to one side. Callie was knocked to the ground.

Oh that did it.

Callie rocket charged her fist with a mini wrist Inkjet, using it to punch Pearl through the drain pipe. Pearl staggered back as the pipe split into two. The pale Inkling staggered back as the imposing iron suit approached.

The whirring of chopper blades gave Callie pause. She turned as a hail of Ink rained onto her mechanised armor. She felt it buckle under the outburst of green.

Four stood at the chopper’s gunner, grinning widely. His head still felt woozy from respawning, but he could aim well enough.

“Yo, if you’re gonna mess with them, well then we’re gonna have a bit of an issue here.” He cocked his head to the side, a silent invitation.

“Come and have a go, if you think you’re hard enough.”

Her eyes narrowed.

The suit rocketed into the air to meet his challenge...

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Eight was thrust on to her knees on the hard, wooden floor of the penthouse. Her body ached like she’d had a building collapsed on top of her, beaten up by a thug and whisked up several floors. Duh, of course.

In front of her was a massive surveillance system, with cameras inside and outside the building, giving an almost 360 degree view of the exterior of the building. The penthouse itself was quite large, with a ceiling that stretched out far above their head, with wooden beams hanging overhead.

An L-shaped couch was sprawled in the corner. On it lay a bound and gagged Marina. She struggled feebly, letting out a muffled cry when she caught side of Eight.

“We have to stop meeting like this. It’s getting a tad repetitive.” Eight flickered her eyes forward to focus on the speaker. Her sight was hazy, the bright lights of the room interfering. She managed to make out an old cuttlefish in a stylish jumpsuit and a- half of two hats?- atop his head. One being a samurai helmet and the other sea-captains hat. It was odd and yet it had a certain flair to it.

“So, I’m me. But I’m also not me, if you catch my drift. However, that doesn’t mean you get away with irking me… repeatedly. You see, the Cap’n in me wants to help you, the DJ in me wants to tear you apart.” MC Cuttle paused, “But, Cuttlefish is a lousy old cephalopod. Who cares about him, am I right? I prefer giving in to some of my… darker urges.”

He slammed his knee into her chest. She cried out as her ribs screamed out in agony, wailing against her chest.

MC Cuttle grinned, “-And anyway, sanity is so much less fun than what I am,” He cleared his throat, “This is how this is going to go. You’re going to confess all your sins, mainly the pure mistake thinking you had the right to free will. Or you can beg for mercy. Whichever you decide is more entertaining.”

Eight said nothing, content to just stare at him with a neutral expression. Marina shot her a panicked look

“Oh c’mon, do you have to be so boring ,” He indicated his head to the side. One of the guards, a short Inkling girl with cropped hair, that flanked sent a kick into her gut. Eight bit her lip hard as she tried to contain a groan. Another blow to the temple made her head woozy. The next knocked her head back, had her seeing stars for a few seconds. She struggled to hold her cries of pain.

The lights went out abruptly, the room being cloaked in complete darkness, A rush of movement, followed by a gut-wrenching scream. And then, silence. Nothing but the shifting of nervous feet around Eight as the Inklings around her panicked. Another whoosh of air, another scream and then silence. A sound like paint hitting a wall. A heavy clunk sounded as an eerie red glow illuminated the room as the emergency power kicked in.

The room was coated in orange ink. Almost every inch of every wall was coated with the stuff. One stray guard wandered over, inspecting it. Suddenly hands lurched out, grabbing the unfortunate guard by the collar and pulling him directly into the wall, his panicked yells silenced. The remaining nine guards opened fire on the wall, splotches of navy blue ink splashing Ink all over the wall. A body dropped from the ceiling, the guard, crushing another underneath it.

MC Cuttle grabbed Marina by the collar and hoisted her up. He levered a splattershot to her temple.

“I may be an old fish but I’m a violent old fish,” He pushed the barrel of the weapon hard into her skull, his eyes darting around frantically. “Whoever you are, I don’t make idle threats often.”

Two inklings, a boy and a girl, darted towards the stairway in fear. They dashed through the doorway frantically, pushing and shoving each other.

It descended upon them, a raving, snarling animal. Their panicked screams echoed down the stairwell as it pounced upon them. It dodged their strikes, swinging across the bottom tips of banisters. They ran out of ink. It threw the boy over the side of the bannister, his screams cut short as he hit the bottom of the stairwell. The other turned as it rammed into her, knocking the inkling girl to the ground. It dove on her, clawing at her face. The Inkling cried for help as it dragged her away...

The beams overhead creaked as the two Inklings remaining kept their weapons elevated at the doorway, their fingers twitching over the trigger. The screams from the stairwell stopped A shape dropped amongst them. A flurry of limps as they were dispatched brutally, one by one.

“My, my aren’t you something?”

It turned around, snarling at the Cuttlefish. Prey.

He dropped Marina to the ground as he recognised his attacker.

“Now, hold it a minute. I know it’s your first instinct to rip off my head, I installed it in you after all. But I also installed a little… backup plan, for lack of better term. You see,” He moved his gun barrel to Eights temple, from her limp position on the floor “You won’t put her in harm’s way. You care about her,”

It growled at him, but stayed where it was.

“You’ve connected with her on a fundamental level,” MC Cuttle continued, “Not even the sanitisation process could erase that. So, here we are.” He nudged Eight with his toe. When he got no response, he kicked her sharply in the ribs. She awoke sharply with a gasp, sitting up quickly.

It looked at him, its features contorting in a primal expression of rage.

Eight caught sight of her, “Thr-,” She gasped, clutching her lungs.

MC Cuttle sighed, “That’s not really Three any more. If only the sanitisation process had been completed, I’d have an full-time killer on my hands instead of this split-personality act we’ve got going on here. Regardless, we’ll be walking out of her and, you are gonna leave us -namely me- untouched. Got that? Good,” Cuttle’s face stretched into a beam. He snatched the detonator off the table, tucking into a pouch on his side.

“Feel free to kill her,” He said, indicating his head towards where Marina lay bound on the floor.

Gun pressed tightly to Eight’s temple, he slowly edged towards the stairwell.

“Don’t you try anything either” He muttered to her under his breath.

He staggered through the elevator doors. They closed with a ding.

It slumped, its shoulders weighing on it as the elevator descended.

Marina struggled against her binds, trying to spit the gag from her mouth. That was a mistake, as it turned to her. It drew closer, mouth agape. She noticed in that moment, how sharp Inkling teeth were.

She isn’t so far gone that she’ll eat me, right?

It snarled as it drew closer. The prey looked afraid, a shiny tear rolling down its cheek. And suddenly it was reminded of a back alley of Inkopolis Square, an Octoling wrapped in the its arms as it tried to soothe her troubles away. Its snarl died.

Her mouth closed as her eyes dilated as she fell to the ground, landing on all fours.

“Three?”

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Four struggled to keep the mounted splatling steady. It sent long continuous bursts of ink at his foe, shaking violently. The automaton inkjetted through the sky, leaving trails of ink in its wake. It rolled aside to avoid his fire. Four swiveled the gun around to lock his aim to his target.

As it approached the craft, Four’s fire became more desperate as he fired wildly. The shelicopter shook as it rammed into both rotors on each side, sending them spinning off into the sky. The craft begun to lose altitude, knocking Four off his feet. The attacker hovered near the craft.

Four grabbed the side for support as he braced himself. His legs tensed and he sprang. His hands grasped wildly for purchase as he fell through the air. His hand found surface as he latched onto his opponents. He yanked the primary ink-tank out. The flow from the jets ceased and they plummeted through the air. The emergency reserves kicked in to steady their fall as they landed roughly against the ground.

Callie got to her feet quickly, sending a flat kick to Four’s rising form. She turned to run as a drain pipe smacked into her helmet. The force of it rattled her skull and knocked her to the ground. Her vision began to fade as her head pounded. A bright light filled her sight as she felt her helmet being removed from her head. Her consciousness faded...

“He- he-” Marie’s voice was shaky, “Told me he… that she was gone. I never thought that he was,” She gulped, “...lying.”

She gazed at her cousin’s unconscious form. The left side of her face was disfigured from the acidic ink that Octavio had hit her with. How had she survived the fall?

Pearl patted her on the back, “He’ll get his due. Right after we suck him out of you grandpa,”

Marie sniffled, “I don’t think it’s that simple…”

Pearl turned as footsteps echoed across the concrete. A gun cocked.

“Shit,” she cursed.

MC Cuttle cleared his throat from behind her, “You’d do well to not make any moves,”

Pearl scowled, “Great, you’re here. We were just discussing how much we’re gonna beat the everlasting shit out of yo-”

“Now, now, let’s not be rude,” He pulled a small device from a pouch, “Or someone could lose their head,” His gun was held to Eight’s temple, who was on her knees in front of him.

Callie stumbled to her feet as Marie charged the cuttlefish. Before she could reach her, Callie tackled her to the ground. “Stop, he’s got Inkbombs planted on you!”

MC Cuttle clapped approvingly “Wise move.”

She glared at him.

He smiled in response, “I bet you’re wondering how she survived? I installed netting to break her fall. Why? Well I’m a big fan of wild cards and, it only takes one card in a deck to win at poker. I think? Never got around to playing the damned game myself but you get my point.” He paused, a smug smirk settling over his older features, “You know, I really like holding the power here. I can do anything right now and you are powerless to stop me,”

He sent a sharp kick to Eight’s ribs. She gasped, doubling over. He kicked her again, harder this time, the point of his boot sinking into her toned stomach. Purple bruises were already dotted across her exposed midriff. He stamped down on her back, sending her sprawling on her front. She tried to crawl away as he clubbed the back of her head with the butt of his gun.

His voice erupted into furious shouts as he hit her “You are mine, Octo! You always have been and always will be MINE! Your thoughts, your feelings, your “free will” they mean nothing!"

He kicked her till she bled, pink ink flowing freely from cuts across her body. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair, bringing her head down hard upon the concrete. A stain from her blood was left on the concrete. The three Inklings could only stand there and watch as Cuttle laughed, waving the detonator above his head

He leaned into her ear and hissed,“In the Octarian army, we serve for life.”

He hoisted Eight up by the collar, jabbing her with the barrel of his weapon. She gasped for breath, taking in great lungfuls. He swung a hard right hook, his fist pummeling into her nose. A snap echoed as Eight’s nose broke, hideous pink Ink coating her face. He brought his fist down on her face again. Her eyes began to flutter close as she began to fade into black.He slammed her injured ribs. She cried out, eyes widening as she wheezed in pain.

It felt like it was a permanent part of her. There was nothing, no feelings, her senses absent of anything other than the pain that filled every part of her, down to her core. Everything else began to feel unreal, like a distant disappearing memory, forgotten like tears in the rain.

The hits and blows dealt against her body were becoming more and more faint until they begun disappearing entirely. And then there was nothing.